TAKING DOWN A GIANT.

A one hundred foot tree has shaded the west side of my house for 18 years. An old, giant, live oak. A tree expert pointed out a rotten core in the tree and warned me of the danger it posed hanging over my bedroom roof. I didn't want to do it. I just hugged that rugged trunk and called it my friend and thanked it for its many years of shade.  The smallest part of the trunk was an easy fall.

Down it went and it was just slice and dice.

Nate's Tree Service has a cherry picker to raise the sawyer up to the tree top. But the soil was so wet and muddy, it was in danger of getting stuck. The chipper could not maneuver between the trees, so the guys dragged the brush to the chipper.

That didn't stop the job. They came prepared. The climber took over. He whacked his way up the main trunk to the roof.

Some of the big laterals are the size of small trees.

Once into the over story, the climber struggled with the thick brush, hand cutting his way to follow the limb and gain a foothold and a place to drag his ropes and hooks along with the chain saw he was wearing.

The tree fills the sky, hovers over the roof and in one place a far reaching trunk bends heavily toward the ground. A tree close to the house doesn't crush the house when it falls. The danger is when a  distant  tree goes over and slams into the structure. I didn't want to cut this old friend. But wet soil, with nine days of steady rain in the forecast plus the possibility of a cold snap putting heavy snow on the limbs made me wary. I decided it had to go. The rotten core was just about roof level and about four feet long.

The sawdust and a huge chunk 0f a lateral branch fall to the ground.

All clear, the guys on the ground cut off the brush and haul it to the chipper.

With most of the big laterals removed, the tree is looking skinny but the top has to go first and there is still a lot of tree up in the air.

Finally, the top succumbs to the saw.

He cuts himself down the tree. That piece of blue sky on the right is where the tree used to be.

The biggest hunk goes down. Part of the rotten spot visible.

Piece by piece, by piece.

Goodbye, old friend.

When all was down on the ground, the rot wasn't bad. My tree could have stood for another 50 years-maybe.  I have yet to count the rings to determine its age.  But, I have already planted a replacement for this tree and now it will have a better chance to grow with more sunlight.
I was very impressed with Nate's Tree Service. The guys blew the sawdust off the roof, porches, my driveway, even places where they made no mess. They shoveled chips in any spots on the ground that were disturbed by the heavy truck tires and left my place looking great. They were, in a word, awesome.

EVERYDAY CHALLENGES

There must be some law that says Saturday is a work day. I picked the late apples, and then my yard service had to cut half the tree away. Sprinkling system watering isn't healthy for trees.
 
 Maintaining spindly second-growth live oaks has always been tough. Jerod is using a pole saw at least 30 feet long.
 
Jerod and Dave, a father and son duo, backed their rig all over my yard and picked up piles of trimmings from months back and hauled it to the yard waste. My biggest challenge this morning was figuring out how to downsize pictures in my resizer. Less time to load them. Somehow they seem friendlier.
 
Laurie and Ken came by. They stopped at the "new" restaurant in town called the Lucky Penny and bragged about the quality of the food and drink. Located in what was once the Nugget, had me bursting with memories of events that happened there. (Another blog). Jim said sunny days are on the wane so they decided to put the top down.

Pretty cool, man!
 
It's a 1969 Mercury Montego and so long I could barely get it in the frame. All it needs is some dice hanging from the mirror.
 I reread my fast breeze through Texas. I hit the high spots, missed some and didn't give much flavor of the place. An old Texas saying  was coined around mid-1850s in South Texas. The Nueces Strip was notorious for outlaws, thieves and bushwhackers. The only way a man could be safe was to ride the trail with a loyal partner. From this time and place, the saying "He'll do to ride the river..." became the highest compliment one cowhand could pay another.

He'll Do to Ride the River

LaBree and I were partners, we shared a common trail.

We were friends and confidants, we kept each other out of jail.

I remember back last winter, he nursed me back to health.

It's a memory that I treasure, more than a rich man's wealth.

He put down my old sorrly that I'd had for fourteen years.

He knew I couldn't do it and ignored my childish tears.

Many a log we burned while riding open range.

We cut the barbed wire fences, we both resisted change.

We protected one another, it was life insurance then.

I was a lucky man to count LaBree my friend.

He never let me down, he covered all my bets.

Now my compadre's gone and I have but one regret.

I never told you how I felt so listen up LaBree.

You'll do to ride the river, I hope you'll say the same to me.

By Michael Darden Dowd.  (Published in the Stockyard Gazette.)