When the Smoke Clears

While traveling the other week with Butterbar to see his little brother compete in a lumberjack competition in West Virginia, there were a few chances for insights and revelations but for the most part, I slept. Once we rolled off the interstates into the backyards of West Virginia, we found the mountains and rushing rivers that make this place so beautiful and yet hard to access. It is a complete mystery to me why more people who are just looking to get away do not look to West Virginia.

(note that I am pointing them away from my homestead where others are encroaching as it is in vain hope of avoiding the McMansion developments and other progress to which I am sure we are doomed. At least my little chunk and surroundings are protected… until the taxes become too much.)

The competition was held in the tiny town of Webster Springs. The town is not so much “nestled” in a valley as it is “plunged.” The road into and out of town are fairly sharp switchbacks up the side of the mountains, the bit of plateau on which the town sits appears to have been left behind from the carving of granite by the river. Thousands of people converge on this place over Memorial Day weekend for their “Woodchopping Festival” along with the Firefighter Rodeo and Bike show going on at the same time. Basically, a testosterone haven for a weekend.

One thing fascinating about this competition was the amount of sportsmanship involved. Competitors helped each other, gave each other advice and encouraged each other even with prize money on the line. The crowd would join in as well. Also fun to watch was how after a particularly fast chop or split, a number of competitors would huddle around the two log pieces, examining the forensic evidence of each axe blow to learn how best to treat the wood and how the person managed to split the log in under 15 seconds.

During the Axe Throw I saw an older (70+ year old) man that I know no one had better mess with. Most participants were like golfers, carefully gripping the handle with both hands, taking several practice swings, checking their breathing, then a final release and as often as not, the axe would not quite seat well in the target. This powerful gentleman casually walked to the throwing line and with one hand took a short, over the shoulder backwards wind-up then threw the axe at target landing and sticking perfectly in the bullseye three times. I’m talking a full-sized axe, not a hatchet. Stay on his good side should a bar fight break out.

Take the gentleman on the right. Here he was competing for the first time in “Springboard.” In this event, contestants must cut a notch into the side of a tall standing log, insert a board, climb up and stand on it, cut another notch higher up the log, insert another board, stand on that, and then chop a wood block in half as in any standing woodchop event. Each round takes a long time to set up and then a heat normally takes 2 minutes or so. Since it was his first time, this man was not as familiar with the event but he was encouraged by other competitors to at least try it and get some experience. His heat was towards the end of the day as well with a crowd of spectators tired, sweating and full of funnel cakes.

The other contestants in his heat completed their chops in under 2 minutes while he was still on the first board, just off the ground, and needing to climb down and recut his notch. Not only was it clear he was not going to place, he would probably be dead last if he continued. He started looking around as if ready to leave, but the crowd would not let him. They cheered him on. His fellow competitors came over to give encouragement and advice of where to place the next blow. Five minutes into his heat and the crowd was even more encouraging as he stood atop the second plank, 8 feet off the ground and unsure of himself to begin to split the topmost log.

Everyone was tired, but the man’s struggle was everyone’s struggle, the clapping and encouragement pushing him on. Another minute later he was done, drenched in sweat more from nerves than the effort, but he was proud and the audience was just as proud of him. Next time he will have practiced and will be better.

That is something I do not see in events and competitions in the cities. Crowds would normally wander away at this point, not come in closer, congratulating the last place competitor and asking the honor of buying him beers later. That is the attitude that restores my faith.

(more pictures will come later of other sights)

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