Feedback Score: 0 reviews
Join Date: Oct 2011
Location: Wrong side of the tracks, Erie PA,
Liked 5305 Times on 3146 Posts
Likes Given: 27904
I was out on a friend's property cutting deadfalls for his winter wood supply in the late Summer of 1996 with some friends. The property owner's nepjew had just gotten a brand new Husquevara saw, and was dropping some of the dsmaller, and medium trees around our campsite there, and decided to take out the large leaner by the cabin.
now, said tree was not leaning over the cabin, but it would have blocked the access road had it fallen, so i asked him if he knew how to take it down safely, to which he gave an affirmative. i then told him that the keys were in my truck, so if he had to move it he could. in hindsight, I think I should have gone back to check where it was parked in relation to said tree, but I didn't, and kept working where I was.
it was about 15 minutes later that I heard "OHF#@%!", and then the sound of a large piece of wood hitting metal.
I passed off my saw to the girl i was working with, and took a walk over to the cabin, to see what had happened.
I had just spent the last 2 years restoring and then modifying my 1973 Ford F 250, turning it inot a lifted (2.5 inch) DRW 350 with a plow frame, tube bumbers amde from industrial pipe, a built 460 under the hood, and a 6 speed (4 with granny and OD) trans hooked to a serious HD transfer case. I had repainted it to the same "Pea Soup" green metallic it had from the factory, and had boxed the frame as well. To top that off, it was an odd ball for 1973, as it had been sent to a coach works, and turned into an extended cab before the original owner (I was owner #2) took delivery of it in Oct of 1972.
However, I did build it as a daily driver, and still used it in the winter months. It just got hammered with wax in the Fall, and weekly washes when salt was on the roads, along with a bumper to bumper inspection each spring to find an stop any new rust forming before it became serious. At it's core, it was still just a work truck, which was my intent for it.
as I came off the trail, I saw my friend's nephew standing by the cabin, in shock, and a big @$$ length of the trunk, with a line tied to it, laying aginst the passenger side of my truck's bed and rear fender. The guys running the line, were also standing there, and no one would make eye contact with me.
I looked back at my truck, walked over to the nephew, took the saw from him, and climbed into the bed of the truck. Fired up the saw, and started cutting stove lengths from it.Once the trunk piece was at about 12 feet or so, I pushed it off the bed, climbed out, and set the saw on the ground. I had a section of bed wall that had folded in about 8 inches on the outside, 4 on the inside, and a fender that was now missing a chunk with a crack running down it's length to the bottom.
At that point, I walked over to the cab, opened the door, and then the glove box. I pulled out a sharpie (a couple of the guys thought I was going to pull out the shotgun behind the seat for some reason), and walked over to the dent. Then I wrote:
"Put Tree Here."
right into the middle of the dent, and pout the sharpie in my pocket. Picked up hjis saw, and walked back over to him. i set it down beside him, and told him hw owed me a bed side and a fender, along with a quart od paint, primer, and clear coat next Spring.
He showed up at my shop 3 weeks later with all of the above list. did the painting and prep work on it in our small booth at our shop over the winter, between bikes and sleds, and swapped it out in the spring. Took the bed off, and did some hammer and dollie work to straighten out the bulkhead corner, and called it good.
We all, except for one of us who has made the trek to the other side, still get together to hang out, hunt, and camp, and we still ask him if he's dropped any trees lately.
Now, the funniest part of the whole incident was a week later, when my dad borrowed my truck to pick up a new snowblower after work, and just drove it to work , as he had to drive to Buffalo afterwards. it wasn't until he had been at work for about 3 hours that he finally decided to ask what his coworkers were talking about when they asked what happened to his son's truck, and went out to look.
He came back to my house, with his old blower in the bed for my wife and me, and then asked what happened. I just told him to call Chuck, and ask him.
All he said at that point was, "never mind." while trying not to laugh.
If it ain't got papers, deport it.
ALL Lives Matter.
I may live in the North, but I still uphold Southern Values.
lifetime member. NAHC, NRA, And SCOPE NY