anyone out there an aborist?

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christoph benells

Trad climber

Tahoma, Ca

Topic Author's Original Post - Aug 18, 2015 - 11:12am PT

thinking of a career switch,

anyone out there an aborist?

seems like a good job for a climber...apparently the 2nd deadliest job in US though...

healyje

Trad climber

Portland, Oregon

Aug 18, 2015 - 11:18am PT

Not currently, but was. A lot safer now that there are chain brakes. Still, it's a precision business and bad things can happen to you, others and property if things go wrong.

Killer K

Boulder climber

Sacramento, CA

Aug 18, 2015 - 11:22am PT

Yes. For 16 years.

"Good job" kinda depends where you work.

Don't expect to become a millionaire :)

May leave you too tired to rock climb. Climbing trees for 8-10 hrs daily for years keeps you in good shape though

Brandon-

climber

The Granite State.

Aug 18, 2015 - 11:27am PT

My friend just made the switch from carpenter to arborist. Broke his leg promptly. He got married using crutches. Best of luck!?

Dropline

Mountain climber

Somewhere Up There

Aug 18, 2015 - 12:01pm PT

Leading causes of death in arboriculture:

1) electrocution
2) bleeding to death, usually while up in a tree where no one, other than another experienced and rescue trained tree climber, can get to you in a reasonable period of time
3) getting crushed

I know people who have died all three ways, one guy who died in a fall (landed on his head in the driveway in front of his boss and the client), and a couple guys who were nearly dead after cutting themselves out of the trees they were tied into.

Still, if you're a rock climber, you already have a pretty high tolerance for risk so you'll fit right in, feel right at home, and will probably love it.

Don't worry about the naysayers who say you will be broke. If you love it, you love it, and the money won't matter. Whether or not you make any real money will be much more a function of your business skills than your tree climbing skills.

I say give it a go. I've loved my life as an arborist.

Chaz

Trad climber

greater Boss Angeles area

Aug 18, 2015 - 12:10pm PT

Suffocating under an avalanche of palm fronds is another way arborists get it in SoCal. Be careful.

healyje

Trad climber

Portland, Oregon

Aug 18, 2015 - 12:16pm PT

I'm not naysaying, I'm just saying it's a precise and deliberate business and you have to have the right nature for the job.

Killer K

Boulder climber

Sacramento, CA

Aug 18, 2015 - 12:46pm PT

I will more than likely be an arborist till the day I die. I wouldn't trade any of the experiences I've had for another path.

I've seen many people get injured and have known people who have died. That being said I have been able to get away with minor injuries. Never fell out of a tree or cut myself with a chainsaw or got sucked in to a chipper. I once had a first climber who's groundman accidentally got the climbers rope entangled in a branch while he was chipping brush and inadvertently chipped the climbers rope. The rope didn't get cut but got wound up in the drum. The climbers own rope tightened up so much that it crushed his rib cage against the trunk. As one of my old bosses used to say "Keep your head on a swivel."

Working for high end private tree company will be the most fun. Line clearance sucks, commercial arboriculture is mindless and unrewarding IMO. Municipal arboriculture is a good steady job. Low-end private can be a little shady (no pun intended) and going in to buisness for yourself is asking for it.

Get as many certifications/qualifications through the industry that you can. It will help pad your pocketbook and give you a option to get out of climbing and into consulting when you see fit.

healyje

Trad climber

Portland, Oregon

Aug 18, 2015 - 02:43pm PT

Big removals are an engineering challenge if you're into that.

Big equipment is costly and difficult / expensive to maintain and store.

Tree branches are heavy.

These three sort of go together. Big, complex downtown removals where everything had to be lined down is what I did and loved. Maybe my favorite job ever, but I walked away due to the company not maintaining their equipment nearly well enough.

mouse from merced

Trad climber

The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.

Aug 18, 2015 - 03:03pm PT

I liked Ian's joke. I got it, let's say.

I've been harboring the intent to make a pun on arborist but I abhor waiting so here you are.

I expect Dr. Weej is out on his rounds.

In many of these outdoorsy service jobs--I was a pump installer for a couple of years (best job I ever had)--the main reward is seeing a different place every day. I worked in & around Ventura County.

Malibu one day, Ojai the next, Santa Paula the day after, and so on. And each job is the same but differs in many respects. It is hard to be bored.

Likewise, there is risk and things need to be done in a pre-planned way for safety's sake. My employer was my brother-in-law and climbing partner at the time. He was nailed by an overhead electrical wire while standing on a flatbed loading pipe and ended up in the hospital with allll of his hairs burnt off and was lucky to be alive, having been tossed off the truck by the force, ending up many yards away.

Best of luck.

Guernica

climber

dark places

Aug 18, 2015 - 03:26pm PT

Not a pro, but I own and maintain property in oregon where I frequently use my climbing experience to limb-up/take care of big trees. It's a bit of a hobby and I really enjoy it. I have a Stihl MS 192 T C-E which I can recommend for in-tree work- decent power and designed to be used one-handed. As everyone else has mentioned, it's potentially very dangerous, so don't get too confident since even expert climbing/ropework skills don't translate to the actual cutting aspect of the job. Limbs as they are cut can have all sorts of weird forces acting on them- and you're roped in right next to them so you don't want anything twisting around and fvckin' with you. Another hidden hazard: bee/wasp/etc hives up in trees- this can be a bigger problem than you'd think, esp. if you're allergic.

I grew up around big trees and chainsaws and still have come close to getting hurt once or twice.

Still, it's fun in its own way. Good luck!

Bushman

Social climber

Elk Grove, California

Aug 18, 2015 - 03:56pm PT

I've been in tree work in one capacity or another for 43 years. I worked logging as a teenager, worked in forestry for several years, and began climbing for a commercial tree service in Sacramento in 1981. With the help of my I wife started my own business in 1983. Still have the wife and the business after all these years, but she got sick of working around me after a couple years and got a state job. I'm not an arborist but have a state contractors license and plenty of insurance. I run the crew four days weekly and sell work in between and on Fridays. I still climb trees with the crew part time and I run the stump grinder (not fun). I employ an excellent journeyman tree climber, and usually only employ two to three well vetted employees total because my workers comp premiums are a bitch to pay and our safety program is tedious. I stick with private residential work, it's my nitch, and I love all my old retired customers. I'm not getting rich, but I might be able to afford to retire in ten more years. I sleep good most nights because no one has been maimed or died on my watch, knock on wood.

Sometimes I wonder how I ended up here and then remember how I screwed up my education and other career choices until I decided that staying with tree work might be my only lucrative option for a career. Honestly, there have been many times I wish I stayed in college. I have busted myself up and worn my self out pretty good physically in this job but can still knock out some decent tree work from time to time. But then I feel it for days and just let my crew do the work until I think I am needed again, besides my job is selling work and maintaining the business. Salesman, climber, groundman, mechanic, driver, insurance and permit negotiator, general public and government official liaison, advertising department, and all around gopher and promoter; as a busuness owner those are all the hats I wear.

Through it all I'm proud of my career and our 31 years in business and am glad I'm still in one piece. Every couple years I get hurt and nurse an injury, right now a cortisone shot in my heel and bike riding is helping me with plantar fasciitis, but I tore my meniscus again a few weeks ago and am trying to heal my knee without surgery.

Well, good luck with whatever you decide. Definitely try to find employment with a conscientious and reputable employer if it's doable. You must always put safety first if you want to survive in this profession.

-bushman

mouse from merced

Trad climber

The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.

Aug 18, 2015 - 04:10pm PT

"I've been in tree work in one capacity or another for 43 years."

Hence, the nom de plume, Bushman of the poet tree thread.

I hope you don't mind, but this is one helluva tribute to your mentor.

'Jack Manning'

As a teen I was a rebel,
And was angry to the bone,
With my family I had quarreled,
So I struck out on my own,
For I was just a boy then,
So wandering I did roam,
Uprooted from my family,
And far away from home,

I hitchhiked to Minnesota,
And met danger I should say,
I was hungry and was dirty,
And remember to this day,
The rumble in my belly,
But it soon would go away,
For I followed my directions,
And found instruction on the way,

I arrived at two am,
At a farmhouse in a glen,
All dogs put up a racket,
But the lights were on within,
My note was worn and tattered,
Written by a family friend,
"So you've come from California?"
As his wife ushered me in,

"You can sleep upon the couch,
In the morning you can ask him,"
He hasn't logged in years,
So on him it will depend,"
And I slept a fitful sleep,
With the demons and the din,
Of a chorusing of angels,
Who harassed me once again,

And I woke to see a figure,
Who was coming down the stair,
An old man bent and broken,
Who was stubbled with grey hair,
But his hands were veined and gnarly,
His steely gaze a stare,
The rumpled hat pulled low,
And his purple frown severe,

I made my introductions,
Feeling sheepish and afraid,
I explained my situation,
And the mess of it I'd made,
The old woman served me breakfast,
The orange juice was homemade,
The eggs all peppered black,
With toast and marmalade,

And afterwards he looked at me,
And offered me a smoke,
I believe it was the first time,
I remember that he spoke,
He told me it took courage,
Or craziness no joke,
To hitchhike 'cross the country,
So destitute and broke,

"So you want to be a logger?"
He asked me with intent,
"We could give it a go then,
If you work for food and rent,
And an extra hundred here and there,
If on working you are bent,
But we always rest on Sunday's,"
Wasn’t sure of what he meant,

For every yard of fresh cut pulpwood,
Paid a hundred dollar bill,
And before I knew my poplar,
I was sure to get my fill,
Of the toiling and the danger,
And before I climbed that hill,
For every log I rolled up there,
I was sure to foot the bill,

He taught me to drive the one ton,
Up the winding mountain road,
To a lot that he laid claim to,
And we started to unload,
In the damp and humid forest,
Sounds of crickets and the toad,
Then we fired up the chain saws,
'Twas the north woods loggers ode,

Falling them and bucking them,
And skinning every pole,
Hoisting them and hauling them,
With the dozer was our goal,
I almost lost my life the day,
A snag nearly took its toll,
As Jack yelled out to warn me,
I had clearly lost control,

The branch caught on the dozer stack,
While towing up a sled,
I ducked down when the stack broke off,
It near took off my head,
Jack had saved my life that day,
My face turned crimson red,
If he hadn't yelled to warn me,
I knew that I'd be dead,

Jack had seven children,
From sixteen to forty three,
And we always worked to help them out,
On every Saturday,
I plowed from dawn to dusk one day,
For sandwiches and tea,
Jack alway did what he would do,
For love and family,

On Sundays we would drive to town,
And the women went to church,
As Jack and I sat in the car,
Drinking whiskey 'neath the birch,
For Jack and I saw eye to eye,
God being handy in a lurch,
We accepting it for the present time,
And were contented with our perch,

Jack treated me as equal,
And respected me as much,
He had rode the rails in forty eight,
And knew of hardships in a clutch,
The railroad men had almost killed him,
As he’d camped out in a hutch,
The kinship that he showed me,
Was stronger than the crutch,

I was strong of flesh but wounded,
In my spirit and my heart,
But Jack stood out a legend,
As he gave me a new start,
And one day upon the homestead,
He blew my mind apart,
As we walked the wire fence line,
And he proved I weren't so smart,

The fence it was electric,
And Jack made me a bet,
That he could hold that wire,
As the voltage through him let,
And I watched him wince in series,
As two minutes came and went,
He never let that wire go,
To challenge me as yet,

He bet me half my paycheck,
That I couldn't do the same,
For even thirty seconds,
And I thought the bet was lame,
I grabbed into that wire,
Thinking I would win his game,
The first jolt knocked me back a step,
He knew that I was tame,

And then he grabbed the wire again,
And rubbed it in for luck,
I'd just been taught a lesson,
And was out a fifty buck,
He held on for a minute more,
And I felt like a schmuck,
For a man of over seventy,
Jack really had some pluck,

I worked for most the summer,
And passed my sixteenth year,
The work had made stronger,
In my body that was clear,
But mind was still confused,
And I found solace in my beer,
But whenever I had words to say,
Jack always lent his ear,

As the season turned to autumn,
And my thoughts returned to home,
The road was calling out to me,
I knew that I must roam,
I thought I was a man then,
Not afraid to be alone,
Jack's tutelage had bolstered me,
So I struck out on my own,

Back on the road once more,
I survived by tooth and nail,
And back in California,
I found trouble without fail,
Adversity was my friend no doubt,
At times I slipped and fell,
Into troubles with the law again,
I created my own hell,

My good friends and my family,
They loved me through it all,
The days went by as I grew up,
A few years later in the fall,
My thoughts returned my friend Jack,
I had to make the call,
My mentor sounded none too well,
For time exacting took its toll,

A few months later I called back,
To speak to him again,
His wife Maria answered and,
I intuited it would be grim,
She said the cancer in his lungs,
Took him finally in the end,
I set the phone down woefully,
And said goodbye to my old friend,

Somehow through all my hardships,
I wound up on my feet,
For big brother and my family,
It was a monumental feat,
They gave me opportunities,
To help save me from defeat,
So I grabbed onto my bootstraps,
And held onto my seat,

Up the hill and over dell,
I made compromise with strife,
And somehow in the thick of it,
Through love I found a wife,
The trees became my trade,
And the marketplace was rife,
By providence or confidence,
I finally made a life,

My kids grew up and grandkids came,
They're growing up so fast,
From time to time I think back on,
My adolescence and my past,
The lumberjack and mountain man,
Who befriended me back then, alas,
There's nary been a man I've known,
Who treated such a boy with class,

This lost and wayward runaway,
Whose self esteem was low,
He took and spent some time with me,
For what little did I know,
The man saw in himself the boy,
And knew how things might go,
He helped bring out the best in me,
With kindness helped the boy to grow.

-bushman
07/11/2015

Bushman

Social climber

Elk Grove, California

Aug 18, 2015 - 04:58pm PT

Thank you kindly,
Mouse.

Dropline

Mountain climber

Somewhere Up There

Aug 19, 2015 - 04:46am PT

As others have said, what kind of arboriculture you practice makes a big difference.

Utility arboriculture is low paying mindless work but a good experience for a brief while. You'll learn more about working around power lines doing utility line clearing than anywhere else.

If you want low pressure and good benefits then municipal work is a good way to go.

If you have an entrepreneurial spirit private arboriculture is the only way to go.

Get as much education as you can. Become ISA Certified, and in time ISA Board Certified and ASCA Registered. Education and certification will make your work more interesting, more fulfilling, and more lucrative.

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Aug 19, 2015 - 05:11am PT

if you switch you'll
enjoy an episode of honeymoon
bliss:

"f*#k yea! i'm climbing every day.
getting the chiz scared out of me
regularly! i'm in great shape.
great views, exciting work.
impressive to clients and
random passerbyers the like.
cool tools. getting dirty.
chicks dig me! (this one's only
in your head)"

but then,
as the repetitiveness, constant
exposure to horrible tangles, snags,
dead wood, nesting insects,
HEAVY tools, pitch, extreme
heat in the summer and frigid
days in the winter, going home
completely wrecked physically;
your daily exposure to liability
(SH#T HAPPENS);
the ridiculous cost of insurance;
picky clients, joint aches etc. etc
sinks in,

you'll realize,

tree work sucks.
i f*#king hate it.

but i hate any job.

so the conclusive results, for me,
are not yet in.

Rock!...oopsie.

Trad climber

the pitch above you

Aug 19, 2015 - 07:21pm PT

The Warbler said:

If you're certified and insured, and have the skills to please housewives in an upperclass area, the money's good.

Do high level skills with the housewives trump the insurance thing? What if I've done my best work with the lower class housewives?

I think there's a script for a B-movie on par with joysticks and pizza boy here.

healyje

Trad climber

Portland, Oregon

Aug 19, 2015 - 10:12pm PT

I wasn't involved, but I've seen branches dropped on ground men, electrical service boxes and poles ripped off building, chimneys taken down, cars crushed, and crane semi's toppled across all lanes of main city thoroughfares.

Again, deliberate and precise. It's not a business for guessing - you either know or don't cut.

CCT

Trad climber

Aug 19, 2015 - 11:30pm PT

That's an amazing poem, Bushman. So personal and so universal, both at once.

Thanks for posting it, Mouse!

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Aug 20, 2015 - 05:50am PT

one unintended benifit and / or consequence
of my chosen tree-trade
is a gross adjustment in
my day-to-day perception;

a great shift in my norm.

for when you conduct high-angle
trades with sharp tools
which release great loads
in close proximity to structures,
you kinda get used to
tiptoeing around disaster.

near misses are standard business.
one becomes sorta numb
to the feel of fear;
sort of deaf to the music of status quo.

nothing really phases me anymore.

i don't even care when my wife
rips big farts.

this warping of reality
also benefits our rock climbing
pursuits.

you see, tree climbing
is mostly 5.9 with a chainsaw.
occasionally you'll encounter
a 5.12 tree, but those yield
handsome financial dividends,
and are rare.

as a matter of fact,
the other day, i won
1000 bucks after taxes,
and the next day, 800.
bam.

but when i rope up in my leisure,
donning my sleek little slippers,
and i step to stone,
it's so much easier
than humping up a stick
with 10 # boots and
loads of sharp and heavy
burdens all the f*#k over you.

oh, and when you cut a top
off a two hundred footer
an you're left standing there
on a wobbling pole, a foot in
diameter at your tie in,
life is bitchen.

fyck-the-so-what.

Chaz

Trad climber

greater Boss Angeles area

Aug 20, 2015 - 08:53am PT

And after trimming the trees to within 6" of the power lines ( assuring a job for next year ) they come back the next night and steal all of your avocados.

Had it happen three times ( Mawbry's tree service hires thieves ) before I worked with Edison to get rid of any tree with the potential to grow anywhere near any of their lines, so Mawbry never has to set foot here again. I haven't had a rip-off since.

Bill Mc Kirgan

Trad climber

Cedar Rapids, Iowa

Aug 20, 2015 - 08:54am PT

you kinda get used to
tiptoeing around disaster.

^^ wow I especially like this gem of expression
and the entire piece is great!

Good stuff Norwegian!

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Aug 20, 2015 - 09:38am PT

i love this time of year
when the dwarf mistletoe
is ejaculating from
it's swollen staulk
and as the climber
ascends in attempt
to extinguish the seeds,
he triggers their
release and now,
attacked like an ovary
he feels like
he's climbing back
up tall vagina
into time's womb.

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Sep 29, 2015 - 11:13am PT

the reality of work:

140' up a lightening-strik and thus dead lodgepole.

a vertical fracture runs up
the entire pine spine.

the base: rotten. only a horseshoe-shaped
section is holding the lot up.

i go to a small top because
i fear a barber-chair with the crack feature.

as i prepare to top, i've
one more branch to clear,
to better my position.

but the last branch
happens to be a witch-broom diaster,
quite heavy, all on the tip....

i have to fling the branch,
so's to not hit the porch-cover below.

i make the cut,
my arm struggles for strength,
my grip, maxed.

my balance is off, but we're on
our way.

as i begin the swing my funny bone
hits a stub and my entire forearm
goes numb.

i look at my fingers, gripping
the branch only from muscular
memory, i hold,
just long enough it's gone.

i watch it drift down,
and the wind gives the
necessary encouragement,
i miss the gutter
by 4'.

the owner has no idea
the peril i've just inherited.

i take her top off and
then work my way
down her midriff
6' at a gallop
all the while watching
her seeping crack.

and sure enough,
when i finally fall
the stick the entire
trunk splits into two.

whew.

Fossil climber

Trad climber

Atlin, B. C.

Sep 29, 2015 - 12:37pm PT

Worked with a tree company a couple of summers when in school, trimming trees along power lines on State highways. You were forbidden to use tree hooks (spurs) along the highways, so you had to throw a rope over a branch and climb the rope to get into the canopy. I think they work a lot from machinery now. Great way to stay in shape.

Of course I did manage to run a tree hook into my ankle and cut the flexor tendon to the big toe, which has flopped around useless ever since, and that didn't help my rock climbing technique a whole lot. Quite a few hazards to the job, but it will whet your risk calculation skills. And it is entertaining to admire some amazing chain saw scars on the old timers.

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Sep 29, 2015 - 01:42pm PT

neebee

Social climber

calif/texas

Sep 29, 2015 - 01:58pm PT

hey there say, all... i know a friend of a childhood friend, that does this... i knew it was dangerous, but wow--perhaps only the HALF of it...

say, another reason why supertopo is so great:
a wonderful thread here, full of info that any aborist should
pass on to another...

especially those seeking, here...

keep up the great work, and kindness to share...

bushman and mouse:
i love and cherish such a mentor story...

say, timid, did not know you did this...

and norwegian, we all wish you best, as always, as you tackle those
trees...

was good to 'meet' these other aborist, here, too, from the climber-realm...

learn a lot here, for sure...

(say, does everyone that does this, have to be certified... i was just curious)...

Bushman

Social climber

Elk Grove, California

Sep 29, 2015 - 03:34pm PT

The Lofty Toll

The harness and familiar smells
Of lather dried on saddle worn
Of leather and old blanket wool
Familiar to his waking dreams
He wakes to wipe encrusted eyes
With yawned anticipation
Before dawn the hunt for breakfast
Or coffee's search in gathering light

At five hours the operation
Though rote for him the task
Implacably extolls
And surgically extracts
From knees and burning ankles
And pound for pound from tingling flesh
The climbers lofty toll
To woodland trolls of days of old
He thought he saw them go
Among the sunlit canopies
The pixie or a winged gnome

Exchanging risk for his existence
The day to day distractions
Without a word he flips his line
To a second winded gathering
With no heightened expectations
Or the daylight left a burning

He moves tenaciously with skill
Among the sawdust floating
Entangling with his essence then
Blended and infused
With sulfurous smells exuded
From legumes and some mustard greens
All synthesized through sweat soaked grime and
Broadcast with vaporous pheromones

The mortality of the man
Though lofty be his perch
All wrapped with intent
And entwined with limitations
Then filtered through warm ripened sweat
And the salty waste encrusted grime
Of what was once his T-shirt
And the amalgamated deposits
In musty rings about his neck

As the climber spikes and set his gaffs
And weighting flipline settles back
To fire his trusty chain saw
With a cracking ripping growl
Through trunkwood perched some ninety feet
A felling rounds with straining grunts

This effluence of labor's scent
Effects a natural repellant
On swarms of wasps and carpenter bees
To safety scurry centipedes
It holds arachnids fast at bay
And dispassionately dispatches
Brown widows to the air

And afterwards at home
The boots come off exposing those
Wiggling breathing toes
Hot water falls like liquid gold
And days are soon forgotten
Though some paid well enough
But the climbers lofty toll
A price to trolls of days of old
He thought he saw them go
Among the sunlit canopies
The pixie or a winged gnome

-bushman

ß Î Ø T Ç H

Boulder climber

ne'er–do–well

Sep 30, 2015 - 08:57pm PT

gracias

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Oct 1, 2015 - 03:46am PT

bush my mate
had a fox jump
into his lap,
at about 50 feet.

feralfae

Boulder climber

in the midst of a metaphysical mystery

Oct 1, 2015 - 07:34am PT

Bushman,
Lofty Toll: evocative, inspiring, playful.
Thank you
feralfae

mouse from merced

Trad climber

The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.

Oct 1, 2015 - 07:51am PT

Ah, Bushman's pen is mightier than his chainsaws.
While norwegian's own little charms and chants
Keep him safe while workin' & shittin' his pants.

zBrown

Ice climber

Oct 6, 2015 - 07:00pm PT

bump

zBrown

Ice climber

Oct 6, 2015 - 07:34pm PT

^Photos?

hooblie

climber

from out where the anecdotes roam

Oct 6, 2015 - 08:01pm PT

i thought i had found gold !!! a dozen rounds of blue gum as wide as my subaru dumped like mobster drops on a bootleg backroad. returned with a truck and various mauls, grenades, wedges, axes and bars. those rounds were less than a foot thick and hard enough to repel every stroke except the hammered on axe head that at one point i considered leaving behind. got back to the house lighter than i left the place by about a quarter tank

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Oct 8, 2015 - 05:44pm PT

i shoulda been in a boom today,
but alas no access so i ascend
the 60' live oak with
a 2/3 rainbow arc draped
over a house, deck and
expensive landscaping.

as there are no trees above me,
i am afforded no top-rope.

just me and my flip line.

so i first attach my bull-line
to a staunch tree some 100' feet
off, at deck level,
and tow the other end up with me.

i get to the summit
of the rainbow and i straddle
it, totally cowboy style
with my spurs kicked back
into her belly.

i lash my end of the bull-line
to the trunk, affecting
a basic zip-line,
and then i sling the top,
and attach it to the zip-line.

then i, with moderate trepidation
and excessive caution,
lop the top onto it's slide.

the thing engages and my
bull-line acts like a force-
amplifier on the tree
beneath my legs.

rowdy.
i rodeo it out,
literally like on a bull.

the top slides down
and softly lands well
beyond harm.

i lob another few branches
onto the system,
and then i proceed
to cut down the trunk,
firewood length
from the top-down.

all-in-all an hour.

800 bucks.

but man i was scared.

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Oct 17, 2015 - 07:13pm PT

i pull into the driveway,
weary.

my broken poetry
inked on my tailgate
presents to the
established crew
sitting on the hill
as i back the truck
into an empty space.

i'd been contracted onto this
job for two trees.

two dead pondorosa pine; victims
of beatle-mania.

my trees stood boldest
among a 10 pack
of other dead pines;

all squat cozy up
next to a nice home.

i slowly get out of my truck,
as i've been in the saddle
alot lately, and i gotta
will my limbs into action.

a round of grunts and nods
greets me and i return
the salutations with a fervor
of excited sentiment.

as i don't see much
social opportunity, i suit up.

the other climber, the one
whom hired me (for my liability insurance, i assume)
gets roaring machines out
of his oversized dodge.

his gear is tits.

mine? ain't so much.

my main climber saw is in
the shop, so i'm using
my backup 201t, that
runs a friendly tune,
sounds a little like
pussy-farts.

the other climber's 200t obviously
has no guts left in the exhaust
and screems banshee.

ah well. get-to-job.

i launch up my 32" pole
and go the races, staying
just one-stride ahead of leg cramps.

these are my nemesis
and have motivated me
towards optimum efficiency,
in the trees.

i launder the trunk of branches,
climb hight into the remaining
top and come back down removing
branches from one side
to ensure the favor.

i cut into a 40' top
and it drops a 150' down
into a small yard.

over the across the way,
the other, republican climber
(according to his no-bama bumper
stickers) is working away on
one of the easier trees.

his is like 100' tall, 40'
from the house, and maybe 20" diameter.

he goes up and then comes down;
all according the the Stihl
anthem raming thru
all silence near and far.

but he doesn't top it?

he mutters something about
interference and i don't
really care, i got to go
get my 28" bar
and chunk out my trunk.

the other climber heads up
a tree not to far from where
i'm perched.

he's gleaming in
gadgets, shiny boots
metal hard hat,
top of the line spurs
and he repeats his
earlier show.

up. then down.

i ask him why he didn't
top it?

my flip-line slipped,
was his warrior-cry.

f*#k it.

i get paid.
tell them that they
need to move the propane tank
before i fall my other tree,
and leave.

i'm left to
generalize that all
republicans are show;
and grandest
at presentation,
and when their heart
looks for courage,
the don't find it
and hire a democrat
instead.

(caveat: i've obviously
no substance behind my
silly claim, the fella
that mentored me
might very well be
a republican and he's
all action, very little
talk and not one for
bumper stickers.
i was just pumped
by their facade and
then their jest
at the poetic boy
in girls pants who
holds a self-issued
literary license
that magnifies
his wee-courage)

edit to add
the dumb, alcoholic-on-hold
democrat was too
scared to remove
the second tree
above the live
propane tank)

thebravecowboy

climber

The Good Places

Oct 17, 2015 - 08:27pm PT

You climb dead trees?

You'd better be wary of them snakes in dog's dresses.