Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Urban Resources: Firewood

Our house sits on a postage-stamp lot, a tiny patch of land in a Midwestern village. On its face, it appears to offer little in the way of natural resources.

A closer look reveals what a first glance doesn't.

I believe this post will be the first of a series I'll call "Urban Resources" -- seeking and finding materials often discarded and practices neglected. Today I'll talk about making use of a ridiculously simple source of firewood for our backyard pit or, in a pinch, the indoor fireplace.

There are but four trees on our lot -- two maples, a crabapple and a 60-year-old ash. On township property to the east are a magnificent bur oak and a catalpa, each estimated to be 180 years old, as well as a handful of tall pines and spruces. Our southern neighbor's sweetgum and poplar hang over our driveway.

Because all of those trees are relatively mature, they shed onto our lawn every day -- just how much depends on the weather. I've made an early-morning ritual of collecting fallen wood and carrying it to a semi-tidy pile I've built behind the garage.

It's not all small twigs, either. We had an arborist prune the ash of dead limbs back in May, which added some respectably large rounds, and our decrepit crabapple seems to lose a branch or two every time the wind blows.

Bucking the larger limbs requires nothing more than a pruning saw, although occasionally I resort to using a small
chainsaw that operates on rechargeable batteries. I also break out my old Estwing hatchet from time to time. The tool I use most often, however, is a machete.

Specifically, it's 22-inch Collins that I've had for 27 years. The blade is stained and the edge is nicked, and the fractured phenolic handle is wrapped in adhesive tape -- that is, it's just about broken-in. A few minutes' attention with a flat file and a genuine Carborundum stone is all it takes to keep the blade brutally effective.

In four months I've gathered about one-third of a cord of imperfect firewood for my inelegant woodpile. Yes, much of it is kindling and some of it is tinder, but I figure I have enough wood for about a dozen good cooking fires -- so far -- and every bit of it was free.

In the next installment, I'll talk about a surprising source of the ultimate natural firestarter: fatwood. Stay tuned.