No Thanks, I’ll Walk or Going, Going, Gone

On the top of the hill, the clear-cut that the neighbors had logged several years ago has  caused stressed trees on our property. The trees are falling across our fence line in places, others are not handling the extra sunlight where they had been shaded when the neighbor trees were sheltering them.

Cleaning the sick, dead and fallen trees will make room to plant new trees this winter. After I have the fence fixed, the area will be a good spot for the cattle to wander through without the worry of loosing them to the seven miles of wild timber country that lays beyond our farm.

The switchbacks are too angular for the bulldozer while it pulls 60-70-80 foot logs hooked to cables behind it. Mike heads down the hill on a skid road that is so steep that I am unable to scramble up or down the slope on foot. He always asks if I would like a ride. I have a hard time even watching the steep haul so he goes it alone with his cargo.

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