In the early years of our marriage, Bob and I went with my father-in-law, my brother-in-law, and assorted friends to the Shirley Mountains to get wood to burn for heating their house. We would spend the day hauling log after log to the trailer we had brought. By lunchtime, I was starving!! Carrying those big logs was hard work, but it was beautiful up there in the mountains.
My father-in-law wanted to burn wood as much as possible to save money on heating bills. Many people were turning to wood burning stoves to cut costs, and the BLM was letting people buy permits to clear the dead fall for the mountains to cut down on the fire hazard up there.
We went up several weekends, and brought back lots of wood. Then began the work of cutting and splitting the wood. We had quite a production going. The guys had a rhythm going. They cut the logs into pieces the right length, then they went to the splitter, and were tossed onto the woodpile. Even the little kids pitched in.They thought they were so grown up, when we allowed them to help stack the wood.
Over the next few years, the woodpile would get to be so huge that it looked higher than the house. We were all shocked at what we had. You could see it from a long way off. One thing was for sure…my father-in-law had enough wood to heat his house for some time to come. People don’t go out and haul their own wood much anymore, or maybe I’m just out of the loop, but it was a time I will always remember…because it was such a pleasant time.