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Sharkbait's at it again

When you are engaged in cutting trees down out in the woods, the idea is to cut down as many trees as possible in the alotted time frame, hence the phrase, "Getting wood on the ground"(I can just hear the wheels turning in BadBK's head on this phrase what with his 9 second street machines and dating pole dancers). There often aren't many targets to drop the trees on out in the woods except one of your saws(usually the newest one), your new pickup(Depending on how close you have parked and the hight of the trees being harvested), and rarely, a grizzly the size of your new pickup. As a sidenote, if you should miss the grizzly while dropping the tree, he will usually stand up and start looking around for whomever has just destroyed his favorite tree, but that is another story. Nowadays, times have changed somewhat, and the mature woodsman(or woodswoman, that is another story too) finds himself occasionally removeing 'dangerous trees'. Usually the dangerous tree has had the poor luck to grow next to a house, garage, shop, outbuilding, or area where large and expensive vehicles loiter around in the evening. Dangerous trees, thier attitudes being such as they are, will use the cover of a windstorm to hurl branches at buildings and expensive vehicles. Even in good weather they wont miss a chance to rain down gooey sap and pitch all over your nice stuff. Add some snow or freezing rain to the vicinity of a dangerous tree and it will hurl branches at your nice stuff with vengence. Sometimes, you are able to remove dangerous trees in pieces large enough to transport to the mill, which can be profitable. Other times the tree must be brought down in pieces, but still can be transformed into firewood that can be sold. The savy enterpreneur mature woodsman can extract payment from the dangerous trees owner for cutting down the tree and often can also sell the resulting smaller pieces of the dangerous tree to those who may heat thier domicile by burning said wood. The proceeds of such ventures can provide funds for stuff that might catch your eye, like new more powerful saws, new more powerful trucks, full Southern Comfort bottles, and fuel for the occasional trip above 200 mph, what with all of the fuel, oil, methanol, and tires that get consumed in the heat of that passion. Perhaps now might be a good time to present a few definitions of the trade. Back in the day, a logging operation was known as a 'show'(not to be confused with 'putting on a show', like when you drop a tree on your new saw or worst yet on the occasional grizzly with an accute tooth ache and resultant bad attitude). Trees were drug through the woods on a skid trail or 'skid road'. Hence the phrase "Let's get this 'show' on the 'road', meant to move the logging operation to a new more tree populated site. A 'Faller'(some of them touchy as a prima donna) was the guy that actually cut down the trees. A 'Topper' or 'Rigger' would climb up to the top of an exceptionally tall tree and remove the top and then maybe attach cables and stuff to help drag other trees down off the surrounding mountains to be loaded onto trucks for the trip to the mill. Sometimes a Faller, Topper, And Rigger, was the same guy...
 
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Back in the day, out in the woods, you also had folks called Gandy Dancers, Bull Punchers, Throttle Jockeys, Hostlers, Choker Setters, and even Whistle Punks, to name a few. In the arena of dangerous trees, you have your groundman. He picks up all of the stuff that you as the faller or topper cut off of the dangerous tree. If the customer has enough funds available, they will usually pay to have all of the branches and debris picked up and hauled off the premises. Sometimes you can earn some extra diniro by grinding away the stumps of the dangerous trees after the trees have been reduced to horizontal. When everything goes as planned, which is seldom, if ever, achieved, the faller dresses up in his varied equipment for climbing and climbs toward the top of the tree, cutting off all branches and letting the branches fall to the ground where the groundman can pick them up and usually throw them into a huge chipper that reduces the branches to sawdust in a very short moment. The climbing outfit worn by the topper consists of tree spikes that are worn on the feet and used to gain a foothold in the bark of the dangerous tree. A harness is also worn with a loop that goes around the trunk of the tree so that you may lean back with both hands free to chop and grind at all of the branches protruding from the tree's trunk. Hanging from the harness is a small specialty chainsaw known as a limbing saw that is attached by a short lanyard so that the saw hangs down by your feet. The saw is left idling and can be readily pulled up and used to make a cut and then left to hang down when you have to climb higher in search of more branches to devour. Rounding out the ensemble is a pair of logging boots, blue jeans with suspenders, a longjohn shirt, and flannel shirt with the sleeves shredded off, and of course a forrestry hat of some sort. All of this clothing is covered in an attractive layer of wood chips, sawdust, dirt, gasoline premix, and bar oil. Often there may be the additional blood stain strategically placed here and there. Also in possesion of the prudent faller, when he is engaged in climbing a tree, is some ropes for hauling stuff up and down the tree like a new saw when the old saw spits its guts out, or maybe some more gas or oil when you run out 150 feet up a tree(a position very much like being up sh** crick without a paddle but without the unpleasant odor)( See you knew I would be able to mention a boat somewhere in this story). Most importantly, every once in a while, you can use the extra rope to tie yourself to the dangerous tree depending on how much rain and wind is assualting you at any particular moment. You can also utilize rope to tie off the top of the tree when you cut it off to keep it from crashing down upon anything that looks expensive. If the rope is long enough( a very important consideration), it can be utilized by the groundsman to lower the top of the dangerous tree to the ground, therby pre empting damage to surrounding stuff...
 
The appointed day came and my groundman and myself took our usual 2 hour drive toward Sharks place, having to leave early in the morning. When we arrived and suited up, I was instantly aware of which tree I had been called in on. Old growth. It was right next to the cabin with as much as a 1/4 of an inch clearence. It was close to the size of the cabin across its base and the top was somewhere up there above the low hanging clouds. Sighting up the trunk showed that it was leaning toward the cabin. All kinds of opinions were offered up as to how to fall it. The Shark, as usual, appeared to be the King of experience and knowledge. I reached into the back of the flatbed truck and retrieved one of my collection of Canada muscle saws, a Pioneer p60, sporting a 4 foot bar. I handed it to Shark with one hand, and he nearly dropped it from its weight. "You know so much about it, why don't you cut it down then?" I said to the Shark. He smiled sheepishly and said, "Wall, I's savin this hyar tree fer you, so's you could show us all how good you is wit a saw" said the Shark. "I's figerd thet whan you is gnawwing on this here one, I'll be whackin that one there down, thet a ways, we could see whos more 'complished at choppin down limber" And there it was, the gauntlet had been thrown down. I did notice that the Sharks tree was positioned away from anything expensive and was considerably shorter than the monster that had been hand picked for me. As I looked around, I quickly formulated a plan. "Hows a bout first one wit all a his tree on the ground kin buy the beers?" said old Shark. "Sounds good, lets get to it", I said. Knowing that old age and treachery can and will overcome youth and excuberence, but worrying all the same because old Shark is older and much more treacherous than myself, I grabbed the limbing saw, hooked it to its lanyard and started up the trunk. I noticed right away that peculiar things have been taking place in the last few years in the enviornment, and I am sure that the government must be looking into it. Trees have been growing taller. My equipment is becoming heavier. The air is becoming thinner. And in some kind of reverse osmosis way, My clothing, while shrinking, has become twice as heavy as in the past. Surely a problem with gravity, and the magnetic fields has developed.
 
How, Why... AHHH never mind. I good story must never be interrupted with questions. I'll just wait to see how this very entertaining story all ties together and possibly tied together with a previously posted or future story:bigthumb:

:popcorn:
 
Good story and lot's of interesting details. A ski area we like in Maine (Sugarloaf) has trails named Gandy Dancer, Skid Road, Choker, etc..
 
You climb up the trunk of the tree usuing your 'tree spikes' that protrude out from your ankles toward the tree trunk. A loop around the tree trunk and attached at your hip on each side is used to keep you from getting too far away from the tree trunk where, incidently, Gravity will grab at you and try its best to deposit you on the ground. The tree will hit you with branches on the way down too. Not good. So you raise the loop as high as you can with your arms, lean back against it, pull yourself upward, trying to conceal the grunting noises and heavy breathing, and raise one leg over the other, nothing to it. When you come to a branch, you reach down and grab your limb saw, that is hanging down below your boots, and pull it up, already idling, and wack at the branch above your head. A good ground man will have fully fuled and oiled your saw. You yourself will have sharpened the saw preveous to the days climb. As you buzz through the branch, holding the saw in one hand, you can give the branch a push in the opposite direction of anything that looks remotely expensive down on the ground. If the Shark is still on the earth trying to get his saw started, you may try to hit him with some of the smaller stuff that you have just cut from the tree trunk. After removeing all branches within reach, you drop the still running saw to your side, and then you reposition yourself higher and do it all over again. While you are repositioning, your groundman grabs up the branches that you have liberated from the trees trunk and throws them into a 'chipper' that reduces the branch to dust about as fast as you can say 'Darn!' You must watch closely so as not to drop a branch on anyone not intended to be hit. In reality, the branch can easily kill someone. As I slowly (more gravity, thinner air with less oxygen content, heavier equipment, much hotter enviornment) made my way toward the clouds, I noticed that both the tree and gravity were looking down upon me with beady angry eyes, and toothy frowns. I was able to keep gravity occupied by throwing branches out for him to take control of. The tree, with its direct connection to nature, was doing its part by sucking all of the oxygen out of the air near the trunk, and trippling the effects of gravity and heat upon me while loosening its bark under my spikes and throwing a branch or two upon me. In hardly any time at all, you are covered in saw dust and chips and shavings which are able to migrate quickly into every part of your clothing, not to mention eyes, ears, nose, and throat. Time to refuel the saw came and I used one of the extra ropes hanging from the harness to lower the saw to my groundman who quickly fuels and oils the saw and then installs a new sharp chain and sends it back up the tree. Coincidently, your rope must be long enough to reach the ground from whatever height you might have attained. A good proper knot to hold the saw to the rope is also considered necessary to prevent Gravity from carressing the rather expensive saw into the ground. By the way, as you are working your way up the tree, the ground watches your every move intently and intensly, just waiting for a chance to jump up and meet you. While I waited for the return of a freshly fueled saw, I surveyed the scene below. The Shark had dissassembled a good portion of two or three saws on the tailgate of his truck in an obvious attempt to get one of them running. My groundman shook his head back and forth as the Shark pointed into the back of the flatbed truck that contained my saws. I smiled to myself.
 
As I got ready to return to my climb up the tree, the Shark was able to get a saw started. From my vantage point in the air, the saw looked like it was missing the bar, chain, airbox cover, muffler, and most of the carburator, but it was definitly running. I could tell by the continuous stream of blue smoke being emmited by the saw. I was happy to see it running because all of the noise from the saw would help mask all of the grunting and wheezing, wimpering, and heavy breathing coming from me. In much less time than it took for the Roman Empire to fall, old Shark was about half way up his tree when his saw spit its guts out. True to form, the Shark had left his ropes on the ground, and had no way to lower the saw which, by the way, due to all of its leaks and such, was covered in gas when it exploded from the inside out. The resultant fireball was hardly worth a comment, but dropping the saw from 75 feet or so was. Gravity and the Ground did their worst to the saws carcass. The Groundsmen scattered upon seeing a flaming saw accelerating toward them thru the air. The morning low clouds were clearing and I noticed how close the sun has become to earth, something else that I bet the government is looking into. I could tell from the heat on my back from the sun that it is now closer than ever to the earth. From my perch I could just make out the next county thru the clearing clouds. A quick measurement of the trees trunk was made and I shut off the limbing saw, and called down to the log truck driver to see how big a log the mill was taking. After confering with the driver of the truck, it was time to 'top' the tree. Usually the mill will have a minimum diameter of tree that they will take and when you reach this diameter of the trunk, you may cut the rest of the dangerous tree off, which will fall in the direction of anything expensive. If you are in close quarters, you can tie one of the ropes that an experienced faller will have brought on the trip up the dangerous tree, in a way that the top will still be attached to the tree after cutting and will fall and hang down where the groundsmen can carefully lower it to the ground where they get to use a saw to buck it up and feed it to the chipper. The groundman takes great pleasure in being able to use a chainsaw but will make hundreds of cuts on anything close and will let the sharp chain contact the ground and any rocks that may be present, if left unattended or unsupervised for too long a period. A prudent faller will make sure that the rope is long enough to reach to the ground. A prudent faller will also have another rope to tie himself to the tree which will try to whip the faller into the air as the top of the dangerous tree is liberated. Even another rope may be necessary to repell down the tree to keep from slowly climbing down. Making sure that the repelling rope is of sufficient length to reach the ground is of utmost importance. A short repelling rope will cause the imprudent faller to contract a bad case of "Decelleration Sickness" which can and will be brought on by 'hard' contact with dangerous tree trunks and limbs, expensive stuff left around under the dangerous tree, chainsaws either running or not, and , of course, the ground. As I called out for a larger saw, the groundsmen knew that I was ready to 'top' my giant. The Sharks eyes were bulging out more than usual as he worked his way down his tree.
 
The limbing saw doesn't have all that big of a bar on it so a bigger saw is necessary to cut thru the trunk of the dangerous tree. I sent my small saw down the rope and had a bigger one sent up, freshly fuled, oiled , and warmed up by the groundman. Old Sharkforeman had made it back to earth and was beginning to try to run the job, as usual. He loudly requested that I quit sitting around and make a cut. I had already tied the top of the tree to the lower portion so that the top would not fall away but would hang from the rope to be let down slowly by the groundsmen. A prudent groundsman will make sure he has a couple of wraps of rope around the trunk of the dangerous tree to provide some friction to help brake the top of the tree that has been cut loose, especially when the top is pretty big(and subsequently pretty heavy) The faller up the tree must excercise caution when making the cut. If the trunk were to split, the faller may find himself pulled into the trunk by the loop around the trunk that is attached to his belt. Not good. The tree may snap from one side to the other, thus depositing the faller at Mr Gravity's doorstep (also known as 'thin air) to be welcomed by Mr Ground at around 120 feet per second. Also not good. If the trunk splits, the faller must relocate rather quickly and hang on. If everything goes as planned, the top falls away to the side and is then lowered. All of this time, the phisical well being of your expensive saw is in a delicate balance. My prudent suggestion to my groundman to give the rope a couple of extra wraps around the trunk was met with disdain by the Shark, who stepped forward with no gloves on and grabbed hold of the rope right at the base of the tree and wound it around his wrist. Surely you jest, I said out loud when I saw this. The Shark waved everyone back. My Groundman looked up at me quizically. I gave him a quick flick of a finger toward the truck and he immediatly stepped back. I thought maybe I was going to witness a new way of lowering a top down by only one man. I was not dissappointed. Normally, all hands would grab the rope some distance from the tree. It would take their combined weight to balance the weight of the top of the tree. An evil feeling overtook me and I fired up the saw and cut through the trunk. The saw howled and chips and shavings flew. The top fell away as planned and even in the right direction. I let the saw down to my side by its lanyard and held on as the tree whipped back and forth. The rope that the top of the tree was attached to began to move at an alarming rate as the top accelerated toward the ground...
 
Since old Shark had imprudently wrapped himself up in the rope that was attached to the top of the tree, he was whisked from the ground faster than he could say 'What the'. The best part, from my vantage point, was the fact that the rope was wrapped around the tree a couple of times causing the Shark to make two quick trips around the tree trunk in an upward spiral. It sounded like Yosemite Sam being dragged through the forest, with all of the swearing. Such language from a senior citizen. It started out muffled but grew in intensity as the Shark got quickly closer to the top of the tree, Rac a flac a zip zortin rip rotin flap er atin snarf blatin darnation... or something similar to it. There was excitement on the ground too as the top of the tree came crashing ever so closer to the ground. There was also excitement in the tree top as the Shark arrived, even faster than ever expected, at the top of the tree, a place mostly occupied by myself. The expletives ceased with an "O Lord" as the Shark tried to grab at anything close as his upward acceleration stopped with what must have been a sickening pause. "You might want ta speak louder so he can hear ya better" I said matter of factly to the Shark. Luckily for the Shark, he had two things going in his unbelievably good favor. He still had his harness and spikes on, and he ended up within arms reach of me as he finally let go of the rope. As he opened up his eyes wide with fear and looked up at me with a 'I cant believe I'm still alive' look, and a 'Did I just let go of that rope?' look too. I loudly suggested he get his harness loop around the tree and get his spikes set before my one handed grip on his carcass failed completely. I hate to admit it but the thought of letting him go did flash across my mind for an instant but I was able to fight the urge. "Shark says he needs you to send up a clean set of drawers" I yelled down to upturned, pale with fright faces. For an instant there was silence, then the laughter flowed, from a combination of relief, hilarity, and come uppance. "Dont know how he is gonna change em though, with all his hands and legs a huggin the tree so tight" I laughed. Then to add insult to injury, I whispered in the Sharks ear, "If you had brought a rope up with you, you could use it to repel down like this" I said as I began to drop away. "Have a nice climb down old buddy" I added loudly on the way down...
 
Since a wager of adult beverage had been suggested by the Shark, I was keenly interested in being the first one with his tree "on the ground". Even as the Shark was making the bet, I felt reasonably confident that I could bring down the giant right next to the cabin without hitting the cabin, wellhouse, garage, or fence. By bringing down the tree in one big piece, it would be worth considerably more than if brought down in 14 inch chunks to be used as firewood. I might mention here that usually when in close quarters to expensive stuff, a dangerous tree must be bucked up into short pieces to be carefully dropped to the ground man for pickup, thereby lessening the probability of dropping the whole dangerous tree on said expensive stuff imprudently left within striking distance of the dangerous tree, or imprudent faller, for that matter. The Sharkupatree was regaining his composure and grabbing at the rope that had been used to lower the tree top, in what I thought must surely be an attempt to repel down to the ground to quick as a blue, smokey cloud, cut down his tree and thereby score some beer and bragging rights. As I walked over and grabbed a special saw from the rear of the flatbed truck, a hush fell among the groundsmen. On the side of the custom saw it reads " Fear No Tree ", and right next to that it says "Or Bear". They had all heard the story of the saws heroic deeds in saving its owner but had not realized that the story actually had some truth to it until now that they were looking at the very same saw, used all of those years ago. To add to the suspence, I walked over to where I figured the tree would crash into the ground after I cut it, and placed an orange stake into the ground, kind of like Babe Ruth pointing his bat at left field and calling the home run. A few big tugs at the saws starter rope, and the big saw roared to life and then idled on the ground to warm up. Assessing the scene, I suggested that the Shark not use my rope to exit the top of the tree and return to the ground. "Kant here ya, Smarta**" said the Shark. "I'll be raght down" he added. I must admit right here that it wasn't out of stingyness or anything like that when I suggested that the Shark find another way down. The plain fact of the matter was that the rope he was going to use ended about 12 feet up the tree from the ground, a condition apparently not noticable from a coupla hundred feet or so up a tree. Another ominous appearing development was that the other end of the rope that had been attached to the tree top was now being untied by one of the Sharks helpers. "May I make a suggestion?" I said to the helper. He shook his head yes. "Don't untie that just yet" I said. "Oh, and step over here with the rest of us to get the full effect" I added...
 
I know it's your story Jim and I'm having a great laugh following it. But I'm thinking right about now would have been a really neat time to have found some fresh animal droppings or such to place at the base of the tree where the Shark was about to land. To kind of predict where that was going to be (al a Babe Ruth) would have been, too good to be true.

Please carry on.
 
Hi Kars, any information or ideas you might be able to send my way to gig the Shark would be much apreciated. It is very hard to predict where he will crash, land, break or ruin something, let alone fall, bounce or ignite. It is my fervant hope to pull off an epic prank on him, especially after he killed the Mate. If only I could have dumped a truckload of the most foul stuff at the base of that tree, but he wasn't even supposed to be in my tree, he was supposed to be working in the other, safer one.
 
Hey Keith, in a weak moment, I let the Shark use the Mate, without direct supervision, while it was at the Russian Guys house on the lake. The Shark drained the fuel tank, left food and drink everywhere inside the boat, drained the batteries, then apparently tried to jump the vessel with who knows what, hooked up reverse polarity, and so on... He is at the top of the retribution list. He is also going to recieve a large bill for necessary repairs to the Mate.
 
Hey Keith, in a weak moment, I let the Shark use the Mate, without direct supervision, while it was at the Russian Guys house on the lake. The Shark drained the fuel tank, left food and drink everywhere inside the boat, drained the batteries, then apparently tried to jump the vessel with who knows what, hooked up reverse polarity, and so on... He is at the top of the retribution list. He is also going to recieve a large bill for necessary repairs to the Mate.

I'm sorry to here that, years ago my 2 Sons ran down the battery on an old Toyota Camry I had for them to drive. They reverse polarity boosted the thing and really did a number on the electrical in it. It took a lot of work to resolve all the issues.
 
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