Lesson three from Dave was the most challenging (read ‘frightening’) to date. It is not that he insisted, but rather I figured that while I have someone here who knows what they are doing, I might as well make the most of it and get some safety lessons and usage tips. I’ve been rather like a stone age person working with my chainsaw-like tool; I’ve gone by feel and instinct, and been lucky so far. Until last Friday, I had never used a real chainsaw.
I looked for my steel-toed boots but could not find them. I was not sure if Dave would want me using the saw without the boots. When I asked him if he was worried about my toes he stopped suddenly in front of me as if my question had momentarily frozen time. As he turned to face me, his eyes flashed and his eyebrows clamped down hard above them. His jaw took a defiant angle as he looked me up and down and said: “I’m worried about all your parts.”
The first exercise was to ‘buck up’ a fallen tree. Actually, the first real exercise was to learn how to start the darn saw! “Some guys put the saw on the ground, step on it and pull-start it,” Dave said derisively, before telling me that it was a risky way of starting the machine in these conditions. The chain could inadvertently hit something on the ground upon start-up, flip up into you and “ruin your whole day”. The safe way to start the saw is to hold it in one hand and pull-start it with the other. Sounds easier than it is!
He demonstrated it to me a couple of times and then handed me the saw. When you are not a big, burly male with powerful upper body strength, it is not an easy task. After the first six or seven tries, I began to think I’d never be able to do it. I gave him a pleading look that had no effect on him at all, but elicited a delicate hand gesture that said ‘carry on.’ Finally, pull number eight (or nine, or ten) brought the saw to life. It was a rush–not to mention relief–to hear the saw growl. The trick is to push the saw away from you with your left hand, while pulling the start cord up with your right, all in one fluid motion. When it screamed to life I was thrilled (“The First Cut is the Loudest”), because I had doubts about my ability to even start the darn thing. I beamed over at Dave who was smiling like a proud father while giving me two thumbs up, before bellowing over the saw, “Great, now turn it off!”
The safe way of starting a chainsaw.
I turned the saw off and took my ear cover off to hear what his next advice would be. He offered three words along with his delicate hand gesture: “Do it again.” Three times he made me start and stop the saw before turning me loose on the newly fallen–by him–tree. Before getting to actually fall a real tree, he wanted me to get a feel for the saw. Once I made my first couple of cuts into the big alder, I had moments of fear and near panic–“My god, this could kill me…what was I thinking, wanting to learn to use a chainsaw…this is a job for a man, not me” and so on– for four more cuts.
My first cut.
After I bucked off the first 4-5 feet of the tree, Dave signaled me to turn off the saw again, and gave me some pointers. Pointer number one was: don’t have the saw going full tilt! Not knowing any better, I had taken to the tree with a vengeance, squeezing hard down on the throttle and working at the log like a hungry man with a steak knife at a Texas barbecue; but that is totally unnecessary–not to mention more dangerous–and once you get the hang of it and a feel for the accelerator, you can make the cuts quite gingerly, coming to a near stop with the chainsaw as you get to the end of the cut. I made a few more cuts and suddenly he stepped forward. “Lunchtime!” he smiled, taking hold of the saw and gesturing ‘after you’ towards our ‘lunch room’–a grove of trees with table and chairs set up in the shade.
After making my first few cuts, Dave gives me a few more pointers.
After lunch, he lead me through the bucking up of the rest of the tree. I made firewood out of most of it, including the bigger limbs. By the end of the job I was exhausted! Not only that, I realized that I’d not had another thought about how scary it was working with the chainsaw. Instead, I had only concentrated on the task at hand and actually found myself enjoying it. However, holding the saw, bending over, making sure I didn’t trip and kill myself–a very real consideration when bucking up branches that get tangled around your feet and legs while you work–really took it out of me. My forearms were nearly as tired as my back. I now have a whole new appreciation for what he’s been doing. When he wields the chainsaw, he makes it look like a butter-knife. When I said this to him he laughed, “No, it’s hard work for me too. I’m carrying that saw just like you are, and it is work.”
Two days later he talked me through my first tree falling job; it was exhilarating.
Howling Duck Ranch 
Looks like you are going to be the next Grizzly Adams. I do agree with Dave on the fact that the saw can kick up, but I totally disagree with the method he told you. Saw manuals will tell you to make sure there is nothing under the blade and to place the saw on the ground with one foot below the handle and one hand firmly on the saw handle. This method is much safer and easier than swinging the saw to start it. Swinging the saw can hurt your back, shoulder, arm etc. I know everyone has a different way of doing things but I ‘ve been using chains saws for thirty four years and have never been injured (knock on wood). You might also want to check out this link. http://www.expertvillage.com/video/27524_chainsaw-starting-husqvarna.htm
Good luck Tim
Thanks Tim,
I think Dave’s probably coming from the fact that out in the dense bush we have here there is very little ground on which to put the saw that is even, clear, free of rocks, brush and debris, and thus safe. If starting it on the deck (or some other location that is safe) like the video link you sent (thanks for that) I’m sure he would agree with the video method. Most of the guys here are accustomed to logging on steep hills with dense bush and thus have learned/developed methods that suit the conditions.
Whenever I have that “job for a man” thought I have to remind myself that “A real man does any job necessary”. Then, I teach my little boys to change diapers on their little sister while I dig a ditch somewhere.
What a lucky girl you are to have good neighbours willing to share their knowledge.
Good for you, it is so important to be well rounded… especially when living farther out. It sounds like Dave is a most excellent teacher.
Good luck with all the projects,
Mike
I hate that when something ‘ruins your whole day.’ I think this phrase may need to replace or at least keep time with ‘it’s all fun till someone loses an eye.’
In the case of the chainsaw, it might have to be ‘it’s all fun until someone loses an arm’!
Good for you for learning this new skill. Too many women sit back and just say, let the men do it. My father taught me to use a chainsaw before I learned to drive a car. Maybe not the best thing but he valued work above all and now I’m glad I learned it. If not so much for the ability as the knowledge that I CAN do it. Now, you just need to learn to weld if you don’t already!