the lumberjacks

 

Last Wednesday, on the front range of Japan's northern Alps, we formed a small posse that was intent on supplying our beachside house with firewood next winter. A 10-minute drive from M's parents' place in Nagano was a mountain that the forestry preservation association was thinning to improve the health of the forest. Up a steep slope just off the road, the forest was full of just toppled trees. M's mom scrambled right up the mountainside and with another friend, was soon flipping the logs down the side of the mountain. (That's her in what I consider to be the classic "beekeeper" mode above.) M's dad and I (that's him in his classic "victory over the Japanese oak" pose above) had the chore of sawing the logs into pieces small enough for me to be able to haul them back to Akiya.

Over the course of a few hours, we had the van filled high enough that it was starting to squat down on its shocks, but I could still see out the rear-view mirror. I wouldn't have minded a larger truck: we ended up leaving quite a bit of sawed logs by the side of the road for a future pick-up.

Thursday morning I drove back to Akiya, a fairly nice drive until I hit an accident jam close to home and spent two hours going 28km. It felt very good to get out of the car and start chopping the logs stove-size. Lots of nara oak and soyogo, Longstalk Holly, both of which are very hard and burn well. As always with M's parents, I ate well and had a great time.