Helpful Herb drops a tree

Went to Helpful Herb's ranch the other day to help him fell a tree. Truth be told, I was there for selfish reasons. I need firewood.

The firewood gathering here at Falling Downs has been going reasonably well. As of now I think we're good well into February. Got a few dead elms in the back bush that might carry me through to the spring, but I get the call from Herb and I figure, ya, I can do a good turn and come away from it with a truck load of wood to boot.

So he's got this big old half-dead maple in behind his barn, and he wants to cut 'er down before it falls down, damaging his barn, which is more of a house than a barn. When he built the main house he had this place done a couple hundred feet away, set up like a raised bungalow, plumbing all roughed in, four car garage on the upper level, 40 by 40 foot "storage" down below. Don't know what he was thinking.

That's the thing with Herb. You're never sure what he was thinking. I suspect he's seldom sure himself. Meanwhile, the lower half became a chicken house and also a cow pen. Chickens and cows are part of his deal from the shtettl days. Actually back then they prefered pigs to cows, reason being that cows generally had one calf. Pigs had a dog-type litter. Could be six. Could be eight. Could be twelve. So when the Party guy came round to fetch all your piglets and calves for the greater good, you could offer him six piglets and keep back a few for yourself. Didn't work that way with the calves.

Herb's come a long way in his eighty years. From shithole shtettl in Poland to expansive ranch overlooking the city here in the new land. But the old attitudes never die. There must be twenty tree-service outfits in the yellow pages, but Herb's gonna take care of this himself. Not sure why he called me. Mrs. Herb was out and about and I suspect at the back of his mind he wanted to make sure there was somebody around to dial 911 should the need arise. He sure didn't want me having the glory of taking down the tree.

That was his province. The tree in question stood at the back of the barn. Main trunk went up about 25 feet, just above the roof, and then branched out in all directions. Herb has the idea that he wants to top the tree first and then bring the trunk down.

I make it  a point never to argue with Herb. These old guys know everything, and always have. Don't really appreciate being second guessed. So he leans the longest extension ladder I've ever seen up against the tree. He can stand about four rungs from the top and get those branches. Fires up his Husqvarna. Heads up the ladder, burbling Husky in one hand, other hand moving up a rung at a time. About fifteen feet up the Husqvarna stalls out.

He's fifteen feet in the air on an aluminum extension ladder pulling the cord on a chainsaw. I'm holding the ladder, hoping he doesn't drop the saw, which would be bad enough, or fall off the ladder, saw and all, which could be worse. It's at this point I decide, in spite of my better judgement, to make a suggestion.

"Hey, why don't you just drop the tree and we'll cut the branches off after?"

The old bastard just ignores me. Pulls on that cord a few more times. Nothing.

Comes back down. Fiddles with the saw. Vrooom! It's idling nice now. Gets a length of baler twine. Fashions a little sling. Loops the saw over his shoulder and heads back up the ladder. Saw idles nice all the way to the top of the ladder. He's up there about 25 feet. Brings the saw around. Hits the trigger and the damned thing stalls once again.

He's 25 feet up in the air, no hands on the ladder, trying to get the Husky started again. The ladder is wobbling with every cord pull. "Hey Herb, why don't you just cut the tree down here and we'll take care of those branches later?"

Ignores me again. Forth or fifth pull the Husky comes to life. He raises the saw and goes for his first cut. Saw is almost through the branch, the branch is coming back his way... he ducks, drops the saw, which just misses me. The branch is just hanging there. I hear him muttering. He's sizing up the situation.

Mutters all the way down the ladder.

Gets to the ground and looks at the saw. Looks up at the tree. Looks at me.

"You know," he says in that east European accent, "maybe I'll cut the tree first and cut the branches after".