Sunday

Location: 7000 feet up at the cabin.

Our goal was to chop up all the collected wood we got several weeks ago into the right length for the fireplace. This can be said to be the most manliest of professions. To take an over weight chain saw in one hand and single handedly chop up large logs into bight sized pieces to be split into smaller sections with the swing of a heavy axe. Yes, from such actions are the legions of the “Manliness of man” made of.

So after stopping at the factory outlet stores to buy cloths for Victor and Lina and a short stop at the local “Home Depot” in Park City to pick up a chain saw we headed up to the cabin. There I took out the device, filled it up with gas and oil for the saw blade and pulled the starter cord to fire it up…….. nothing. I tried again,….. still nothing. I just couldn’t get it to start. Four letter words began to flow out of my mouth. So I sat down and decided to read the instruction manual, not the manliest of things to do, but at least I had to figure out why it wasn’t starting up. My visions of a butch muscle loaded chain saw operator were vanishing. I was after all a city slicker, clueless of the art of swinging a Halloween gas driven death machine around in one hand.

I sheepishly when down to my next-door neighbor Mark for help. Mark is the kind of guy who re-builds front-end loaders in his spare time for fun. His entire basement has been converted into a car mechanics workshop with every tool imaginable for reconstruction of the most sophisticated gas powered device. His first response to me was “Is there gas in it?” Okay, I may be from the city, but I’m not that stupid, “Yes, there is gas in damn saw!” was my reply. He looked it over like somebody who knew what he was doing and pulled the starter cord several times. My manliness was saved; he couldn’t start it on the first try.

He looked at me and said, “Sometimes these things are a little hard to start for the first time!” and pulled a little harder on the cord. It started up with a gray puff of smoke. He swung it around like somebody who had been doing it since he was a child. I was saved, the store bough device worked. I thanked him and tried to start it myself. This was more or less out of embarrassment since the last thing I wanted was to come back again with a look on my face of not being able to start up a simple chainsaw.

It worked just fine from then on and I was able to cut up all our logs into usable firewood. We are now enjoying a warming fire in the house with enough wood to last for several seasons. At least when I get back to Salt Lake City, I don’t have to mention that my neighbor started it for me!

Richard Boyer