Since fuel prices went way up in 2005, we’ve been burning 3-4 cords of firewood every winter to augment our fuel-oil boiler heat. Along with energy related upgrades and a better wood stove, it’s really lowered our heating costs and carbon footprint. Before 2005 we’d been more lax in our wood burning, using it mostly on really cold days. But we’ve been cutting our own firewood for well over 20 years.

In the early years, we’d go out to state forest lands and find wood. We’d cut fallen spruce, live birch, and even occasionally abandoned log decks that the state would point us to. We’d usually go out in winter, and the work seemed to go best at about 0º F. Eventually, though, we couldn’t just run wild through the woods anymore, because the state restricted cutting to a specific firewood zone. It became more challenging to get wood near the road, and summer was a better time given the road access. You could take live spruce, though, so that was an improvement. But freshly cut wood is heavy.

Spruce four-footers back home for dicing.

It was—and is—a good deal. It’s not free, but load by load it seems close to it. Firewood costs the money in the permit (presently $10/cord), some gas, and your time. Rose and I enjoyed getting out into the woods, filling up the truck, and later seeing the wood pile grow at home. But hidden costs began to accumulate. One day, we inadvertently lobbed a piece of wood into the truck and it slipped through a narrow space of plywood protection and broke out the rear window. I didn’t know rear windows were so expensive. We’ve replaced it twice now.

On another day, I injured myself. I needed to break a log free from the frozen ground to cut more of it. I had the running chainsaw in my left hand and picked up a recently cut piece of wood in my right and threw it hard at the frozen log’s end. The piece of firewood sprung straight back from the frozen, springy log end and severely jammed my right index finger. It took months for that finger to become useful again, and I still can’t close it all the way, more than a decade on.

There has been additional wear and tear, but bloody shins (firewood has hard, sharp edges) and sore muscles heal up pretty fast. Looking on the bright side, I’ve yet to come into contact with the moving chain on the saw, so no bloody stumps. And I haven’t dropped any trees on myself yet (though one did come surprisingly close).

The old chain saw stopped working and I had to get another. That was an excellent upgrade—we love our Dolmar. And I didn’t see a stump off the main road once and ripped the left running board off the truck.

Seriously stuck.

The road in the state forest where we cut wood has varied from abysmal to great. Its maintenance is rare. There used to be a long, low stretch that got badly muddy in the rain; deep ruts developed there, and other peoples’ vehicles got stuck. One time on our way in to cut wood we got to that point, looked it over, and had to just turn around and go home. Along another stretch deep erosion canyons often develop, and getting over and through those can be challenging. But last year we finally met our match in a large, deep mud puddle. We’d zipped through it on the way in, but on the way out, fully loaded, we got sucked into the deepest part and were completely stuck, even with the four-wheel drive engaged. What a mess. Luckily, there was cell phone reception and to our relief we were able to get a tow truck to come out and get us. Rose was not happy with that, pointing out that for the cost of the tow we could have purchased about a cord and a half of wood. It’s true. That was our most expensive load of firewood yet.

Restocked

This year was cool and wet and we were remarkably busy. So we never got out to the state forest to cut wood. That’s next winter’s wood; we cut about a year and a half ahead so it’s dry when we burn it. We were sure the road would be terrible this summer, and we decided to invest some of our government stimulus funds (covid) into the local woodcutter economy. It’s the first time we’ve paid directly for firewood. It’s a lot easier, work-wise, and the big pile of it locks in next winter’s wood.

As close to free as it gets — an aspen dropped in the driveway.

In the meantime, we have our local closer-to-free wood. I keep taking the trees that die in the yard and the woods above the house (the Boombah). This year the Boombah Haulage Company emptied the woods of last year’s stashes and created quite a few new ones for next year.

The first snow of the year might arrive tonight. A hot woodstove and the scent of smoke outside makes all seem well in our little corner of the Earth.