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A few weeks ago, I wrote about the storm destroying our fence and the subsequent joy of our dogs having to stay inside. Since then, we have made a makeshift repair to the fence and removed the fallen poplar, sourwood, and oak trees that demolished it. Now, beside our broken fence are cut rounds of trees, a twelve-year-old boy, and an ever-increasing stack of split firewood.

Paul, the twelve-year-old boy, has succumbed to the siren song of the ax. All boys are fascinated the first time they see an oak round explode after a hard hit with an ax or maul. After spending a few days with my chainsaw, it was time to start the process of making firewood. The rounds (unsplit sections of cut wood) piled up high on our property line.

Paul watched as I grabbed the first piece of wood, sourwood. Placing it on a hickory round, I stood it up and split it with ease.

“Whoa! I want to try”, Paul exclaimed.

I taught him the basic rules of safety, how to set a log up, and how to stack. Right away, he started splitting the poplar. For those that don’t know, poplar splits easily. It’s a great confidence builder for a new splitter. The grain is nice and straight, and the knots aren’t as stubborn as an oak.

The next week, my wife sent me videos of Paul splitting away. Seeing her “little boy” swinging an eight-pound maul worried her a bit, but I assured her that if he got injured, it wouldn’t be life-changing. He would just have a scar to show off with his freshly calloused hands. Paul’s stack of split wood grew, then multiplied. Instead of television or video games, he would finish his schoolwork and then split wood. The poplar was soon depleted, and he started on some hickory rounds.

This may seem obvious, but hickory is not poplar. Paul’s first swing landed with a thud and glanced off. I watched him from a ways off and let him solve this problem. Again, he made a mighty swing, and the hickory stood firm. He looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and swung again with the same lack of results. Finally, he asked for help.

Grabbing the wedges and sledgehammer, I showed him how to split hard woods like oak and hickory. I taught him the adage about how splitting wood “warms you twice.” While splitting these types of wood may take longer, a fire with these pieces in a couple of years will last longer and warm you to the core more than any easy-to-split wood.

Last week, we went to a friend’s house with similar tree damage. My son immediately noticed their new stack of wood and started looking for a way to start splitting it. The nine-year-old daughter told him how she split all that wood herself. Paul wanted proof and told her to get her ax.

She looked confused, “What ax?”

Paul, equally confused, asked, “Well, how else can you split wood?’

That’s the moment Paul realized that you could buy gasoline-powered wood splitters. I watched as his mind raced. I could see him realize that all the swings with an ax, wedge pounding with a sledge, and torn hands were not tickets to a big woodpile. On the drive home, he looked at his hands and said, “I’m proud of my wood pile. Anyone can run a machine.”