Chapter 14 - Craig #2
We strode over, and the closer I got, the more telltale signs I spotted that told me he was right. There was a slight bulge at the base of the tree that wasn’t evident at a distance, and I soon spotted mushrooms growing from the trunk.
I paused beside the tree and kicked it. The dull thud that sounded was the last piece of confirmation. The final destination for that wood would be to heat Randy’s cabin.
I chuckled. “I should have trusted you.”
I could hear the shrug in his voice, though I wasn’t facing him. “It’s your first time here. If you work at the mill long enough, you’ll get used to recognizing what I send off and what I deal with on my own.”
I turned and smiled at him. “Mind pointing out trees you won’t be sending to us, and tell me why? If it’s not obvious, I mean.”
“You sure you have the time for that?”
I nodded. “I expected to be here for the rest of the afternoon, and I’m in my own truck. So I don’t need to rush back before they close.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Do you want to see all the trees I’m taking down, or just the ones in our path?”
“I think… a few examples. If there’s a good one out of the way, maybe, but otherwise close to the path.”
His gaze dropped to the ground while he stroked his beard. After several seconds, he nodded to himself.
“Figured out which ones you want to show me?”
He smiled and nodded. “Yep.”
I grinned. “Lead the way.”
He motioned, and I fell in beside him. Russy ran slightly ahead of us, nose to the ground and ears perked.
My mind wandered as we walked. It was so peaceful there in the woods, and I wondered what it would be like to stroll casually with Randy as my mate.
“Here’s the next one I’m sending off,” he said as we reached another marked tree.
I looked up at it. From the outside, it was fairly unremarkable, and not a wood most people looked for. “Mind telling me what’s worth sending this one off for?”
He smirked and pointed out a small borehole in the side of the tree. Though it had faded, there were tell-tale signs of flaming in the wood.
I chuckled. “You know it costs extra to protect that through the drying, right?”
He laughed. “I know. But it’ll be worth it. This tree has a good diameter all the way up, and if the flaming holds, then I’ll get plenty of boards from it.”
I studied the bark and the way the tree held itself. “Probably a good chance.”
I measured the tree, then Randy pointed at another not far away. “That one is another for my firewood pile.”
“Ok. Why?”
He let out a single laugh. “It’s boring. It grew tall and straight… and lived an easy life for a tree.”
I laughed. “If you could call this the easy life.”
He shrugged. “Like you said, not a popular wood. There won’t be any standout features if I make something from it.
There might be a crotch or two once it comes down, but I kind of doubt it.
The shapes don’t look appealing from here.
But it’ll keep the cabin warm during the spring and fall when I need something that burns fast.”
“Living the easy life… to go out in flames.”
He burst into laughter. “I guess so. But what a way to go.”
We continued on. Randy pointed out a crooked tree that had a good trunk diameter, but wouldn’t have been able to get as much as a four-foot straight board from it. He explained that the twisting would give him some great bowls.
Soon, I was trying to guess what he saw in the wood before he could explain it.
Eventually, we reached the upper end of his land, where the gambel oak grew thickest—though it was clear that he did his best to maintain it.
I glanced at the marked trees, but none of them looked big enough for the mill. “Not sending any of the oak this year?”
He shook his head. “I got lucky with it last year. I’ll be able to do some small projects, but most of it’ll be firewood.”
I studied the trees. “Looks like you might have some big enough.”
He laughed. “Maybe. But I listen to my forest guys. Diseased, damaged, or ladder fuels first. Then we move on to crowding. Last year, I had a couple of the oaks that had just gotten too close for their size. They’ll make great pieces, but it was a shame to bring them down.”
I smiled. “I get it.”
There was a beat of silence, then he spoke again. “Want to sit for a minute before we head back down? There’s a clearing nearby where we can take a break and hydrate.”
I blinked. Was he tired? We’d been walking, but it hadn’t been too draining.
“Sure?” I replied. “If you want.”
Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that his cheeks were a bit pinker than they’d been before he’d asked.
“This way.”
I followed him through a couple of trees and noticed that there was an overgrown path between them. We pushed low-hanging branches out of the way, then the forest seemed to fall away as the trees opened up.
“Wow…” I breathed.
Some sort of rock shelf under the surface soil had created a natural clearing with a stunning view of the lake.
I stood there, looking out over trees that we’d walked through.
The canopy created a path of green—with a few early yellow leaves sprinkled in—that drew the eye right to the sparkling water of Sable Lake.
I shifted and studied the area closer to where I thought the road was, and could just make out the roof of Randy’s cabin poking through.
He stood off to one side, trying to hide the way he was fidgeting.
“This is beautiful,” I said, turning to smile at him.
He returned the smile. “It is.” He turned to gaze out over the lake. “I love it here.”
He cleared his throat and took a few steps. “Come on. We can sit over here.”
He led me to where several flat boulders had been set up near the natural ledge created by the rock shelf. Ancient and blackened bricks formed a firepit.
“Watch your step,” he cautioned as we got closer. “Don’t trip over the eyebolts.”
I blinked, then studied the ground. It took a minute, but I eventually spotted a circle of rusted steel poking up from the ground. I crouched, hooked my finger through the hole, and pulled, but it was firmly anchored.
Randy chuckled. “They ain’t goin’ nowhere. Grandpa made sure of that.”
I looked up at him. “Grandpa?”
He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “We used to come up here to camp when I was a kid.”
“Before the cabin?”
The chuckle turned into a laugh. “No. The cabin has been here since before I was born. I guess… this was our version of putting up a tent in the back yard to sleep under the stars.”
I smiled as he spoke. His voice was filled with nostalgia, and I understood that this clearing was special to him.
I stood and followed him to the boulders, where we each took a seat. Russy laid down at his feet.
Randy unslung his pack and pulled out two bottles of water. He passed one over, and I blinked at how cold it was.
“You got a cooler in there or something?” I joked.
He laughed. “Sorta. I’ve got an insulated pouch.”
“Just to walk your own land?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t know how long things would take. Better to bring a couple bottles of water than have to go back down because we’re thirsty.”
“Makes sense,” I conceded.
I unscrewed the top and took a long drink of the cold water.
A light breeze rustled the leaves, and birds called to each other from the safety of the canopy.
“It really is special here,” I murmured.
“It is.”
“Thanks for sharing it with me.”
There was a beat of silence, then, “You’re welcome.”
Neither of us spoke for several minutes, but it was the comfortable sort of quiet that didn’t need to be filled.
“Oh, yeah,” Randy said.
“Hmm?”
He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, then passed it over.
I studied the screen for several seconds, then realized what I was looking at. The bug-hole-riddled board had been filled with colorful resin and finished. Flecks of turquoise shone against the wood.
“That’s gorgeous,” I said as I passed the phone back over.
“I’d let you see it, but it sold already.”
I smiled. “I think that’s a good reason not to see it.”
“It was a good piece. Thanks for saving it for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
I swallowed and decided to take another risk. “I’d love to see you work sometime.”
“It’s nothing exciting,” he replied. “You probably see bigger saws every day.”
“How about the lathe?” I suggested. “We don’t use that at the mill.”
He hummed. “If you really want to.”
“I do.”
“Ok. Do you want to come back another day, or once we’re done?”
“That’s up to you. But if you think there’s time…”
He chuckled. “I pulled out a couple of small bowl blanks this morning. It wouldn’t take too long for you to get an idea of my process.”
“So I get to watch you this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled, and he returned it.
He turned back to face the lake, and let out a long sigh. “I guess we should move on.”
“We can stay another minute if you want,” I said.
He shook his head. “I can sit up here for hours. Better to get going before I grow roots.”
I laughed. “Can’t say I blame you.” I stood and offered him a hand.
He studied me for several seconds, then accepted my help.
“The next tree is this way,” he said as he took a different direction from the clearing.
“Ok.”
The clearing disappeared behind us as we moved between the trees—the moment of connection along with it.
But I had something to look forward to as I measured the next tree. Randy was going to let me watch him work.