As a lot of you know, I got booted out of my old place after 20 years renting there, but that things worked out well in the end with a nice home of our own. One of the things we had considered was putting a new modular on a small wooded lot that was offered to us for sale by the realtor. In the end, the estimate for everything came in $50K over what we were originally quoted, so we passed and found this place just three miles down the road.
As a lot of you know my wife and I are avid chainsaw carvers. When we left the last place I had to leave a huge stockpile of pine logs for carving stock, way too much to even consider carting them over 35 miles and almost an hour drive for each trip. The place we had been considering had about 20 big white pines that had to be removed during the excavation. The original plan was for the contractor to knock a few thousand off the cost of removing the trees, which he agreed to stack at the back of the property for us as carving stock. I was pretty sad to have to pass on all that readily available wood, but this place worked out much better (and over $60K cheaper). Problem is, there isn't a big tree on the property.
So, as I drove down Perth Road last week, it did not escape my notice that there were enormous piles of pine logs cut and stacked by the roadside there. Yup, somebody bought the lot and was building on it. As luck would have it, the same contractor I had spoken to before was doing the site development. I stopped and asked about the logs. Sure I could have some, but how was I going to get them out of there? No way for me to move logs that size, but since I was just down the road he very kindly agreed to bring a load over for the price of fuel for his truck.
Well, just the other day I stopped in again and he was there getting ready to leave for the day, so he said he could bring a load over. This guy is a master with his excavating machinery. He was using a big Cat with a backhoe that had a toothed jaw on the bottom as a grapple to pick up the logs. He worked he way through that mass of logs and piles of dirt like he was picking up sticks off the kitchen table - fast and sure. Problem was, every log he brought over to put on the trailer was full of huge knots. Since it was a huge favor he was doing me, I didn't want to seem picky, so I just let him get the ones he wanted to, chain them down, and made our way over to my place.
When he got here he asked me where I wanted them. I told him I didn't know how his tractor handled on the turf, but that my peavey only went about an inch into the frozen ground. He thought about it, and said he would be able to drive to the back of the property and we could unload them there. We used my peavey to roll the logs off the truck. He was originally doubtful we'd be able to do that, but we managed fine and got them off in short order (although I almost crushed my foot when the first one came off a lot faster than we thought it would). I asked him what he wanted for his trouble, and he said, really, just a few bucks for the diesel duel. I handed him a twenty and he seemed more than happy and wished me luck. I ran into the house to get a few things and head out to Lowes, and when I came out I noticed he was still down there. I went down to see what was up.
Now, I haven't really had a chance to walk this property since we were so busy making the place our home and then the snow came in and I've been kinda hunkered down, setting up the shop. Turns out that what looks to be a nice flat field behind me has just a bit of a grade to it. Enough so that, without the weight of the logs on the trailer, his wheels were just spinning on the wet grass.
Out came every scrap of board that I had out there to try to put them under the spinning wheels. That big truck just crushed them like toothpicks. Bags of pea gravel I had on hand were tried next, but the tires just ground them into the turf. Every time he would go 4' backwards to get some headway, he'd get about 2' forward and then start spinning again. At that rate, he'd be back in the swamp in no time. Finally, he was ready to give up and get a ride back to the building site and get the compact tractor they had on site and drive it back here. That's a total of a six mile ride both ways on a tractor. I felt just horrible, but there was nothing else we could do.
I looked over at my next door neighbor's driveway and saw he was home. "Do you think that little New Holland over there would do the trick?", I asked him. "Well, I only need a bit of help to get 'er goin', after that I should be fine." So, I ran over to Ed's and knocked on the door. He had been watching the whole thing. "Shoulda told you to never go back there in the winter. You want me to come out with my tractor and see what we can do?"
Ed's a real nice 72 year old guy whose pride and joy is that little NH compact. I have to say, I've been real nice to Ed ever since he helped me out when we moved in and... oops... haven't told that story here yet. Anyway, that tractor has seen service here before.
Thank God for Ed and his tractor. Put a chain on the truck and got her going and he got back to the driveway. It really didn't take up much of his time compared to what it might have, but I insisted on handing him another twenty (the last one I had on hand) just for the aggravation I caused him. He was real good natured about it, but he let me know he wasn't going back there with that truck any time soon.
I still owe those guys a box of Timmie's and a gallon of coffee, but I'm not going back to that building site until the red fades from my cheeks again. :red:
Total yield for an hour's work: five of the gnarliest pine logs you'd ever want to see. Guess I'll be cutting these things into 6' lengths, standing them up, and carving some abstract BS around all the knots. Don't think there's a decent bear in the five of them.
As a lot of you know my wife and I are avid chainsaw carvers. When we left the last place I had to leave a huge stockpile of pine logs for carving stock, way too much to even consider carting them over 35 miles and almost an hour drive for each trip. The place we had been considering had about 20 big white pines that had to be removed during the excavation. The original plan was for the contractor to knock a few thousand off the cost of removing the trees, which he agreed to stack at the back of the property for us as carving stock. I was pretty sad to have to pass on all that readily available wood, but this place worked out much better (and over $60K cheaper). Problem is, there isn't a big tree on the property.
So, as I drove down Perth Road last week, it did not escape my notice that there were enormous piles of pine logs cut and stacked by the roadside there. Yup, somebody bought the lot and was building on it. As luck would have it, the same contractor I had spoken to before was doing the site development. I stopped and asked about the logs. Sure I could have some, but how was I going to get them out of there? No way for me to move logs that size, but since I was just down the road he very kindly agreed to bring a load over for the price of fuel for his truck.
Well, just the other day I stopped in again and he was there getting ready to leave for the day, so he said he could bring a load over. This guy is a master with his excavating machinery. He was using a big Cat with a backhoe that had a toothed jaw on the bottom as a grapple to pick up the logs. He worked he way through that mass of logs and piles of dirt like he was picking up sticks off the kitchen table - fast and sure. Problem was, every log he brought over to put on the trailer was full of huge knots. Since it was a huge favor he was doing me, I didn't want to seem picky, so I just let him get the ones he wanted to, chain them down, and made our way over to my place.
When he got here he asked me where I wanted them. I told him I didn't know how his tractor handled on the turf, but that my peavey only went about an inch into the frozen ground. He thought about it, and said he would be able to drive to the back of the property and we could unload them there. We used my peavey to roll the logs off the truck. He was originally doubtful we'd be able to do that, but we managed fine and got them off in short order (although I almost crushed my foot when the first one came off a lot faster than we thought it would). I asked him what he wanted for his trouble, and he said, really, just a few bucks for the diesel duel. I handed him a twenty and he seemed more than happy and wished me luck. I ran into the house to get a few things and head out to Lowes, and when I came out I noticed he was still down there. I went down to see what was up.
Now, I haven't really had a chance to walk this property since we were so busy making the place our home and then the snow came in and I've been kinda hunkered down, setting up the shop. Turns out that what looks to be a nice flat field behind me has just a bit of a grade to it. Enough so that, without the weight of the logs on the trailer, his wheels were just spinning on the wet grass.
Out came every scrap of board that I had out there to try to put them under the spinning wheels. That big truck just crushed them like toothpicks. Bags of pea gravel I had on hand were tried next, but the tires just ground them into the turf. Every time he would go 4' backwards to get some headway, he'd get about 2' forward and then start spinning again. At that rate, he'd be back in the swamp in no time. Finally, he was ready to give up and get a ride back to the building site and get the compact tractor they had on site and drive it back here. That's a total of a six mile ride both ways on a tractor. I felt just horrible, but there was nothing else we could do.
I looked over at my next door neighbor's driveway and saw he was home. "Do you think that little New Holland over there would do the trick?", I asked him. "Well, I only need a bit of help to get 'er goin', after that I should be fine." So, I ran over to Ed's and knocked on the door. He had been watching the whole thing. "Shoulda told you to never go back there in the winter. You want me to come out with my tractor and see what we can do?"
Ed's a real nice 72 year old guy whose pride and joy is that little NH compact. I have to say, I've been real nice to Ed ever since he helped me out when we moved in and... oops... haven't told that story here yet. Anyway, that tractor has seen service here before.
Thank God for Ed and his tractor. Put a chain on the truck and got her going and he got back to the driveway. It really didn't take up much of his time compared to what it might have, but I insisted on handing him another twenty (the last one I had on hand) just for the aggravation I caused him. He was real good natured about it, but he let me know he wasn't going back there with that truck any time soon.
I still owe those guys a box of Timmie's and a gallon of coffee, but I'm not going back to that building site until the red fades from my cheeks again. :red:
Total yield for an hour's work: five of the gnarliest pine logs you'd ever want to see. Guess I'll be cutting these things into 6' lengths, standing them up, and carving some abstract BS around all the knots. Don't think there's a decent bear in the five of them.
talented gal that Rose...
