In response to the PNW thread, I wanted to give the firewood guys a place to post. From the Russian olives of Utah to the loblolly pines of South Carolina.
This is the place where smaller cc's, shorter bars and top handles are the norm. Bologna and cheese washed down with a jug of Kool-Aid and a Kit-Kat bar for dessert are our staples.
This is where whoops of celebration accompany the thundering thud of a freshly-fallen 8" lodgepole pine. And zealous men swarm upon said pine with their angry purple and green saws making bright sparks as their saws touch Mother Earth.
Here, real men, each Fall, have to re-learn how to file their chains, borrow trailers and buy permits. And splitters, what we cut don't need no stinking splitters. So if you're not burly and a picture of yourself doesn't lend itself well to be used as an avatar...I say, WELCOME!
"Honey, I'm home!"