THE WOODRUN Without firewood Sunnyridge could not have functioned. The cook stove in the kitchen, the stove in the laundry room, the stove in the Sauna, the heating stoves in the various dwellings were all wood fired. One winter we had more than 10 stoves going. Thus, since firewood was such a basic need its acquisition was a major concern of those of us who like myself (a double Capricorn) had the physical plane survival of self and family foremost on their mind. Providing wood for all the stoves required not only the working together of many people, but also the marshaling of resources such as vehicles, tools, and a place to store the wood. The woodrun was one of the basics of communal life: it benefited the whole and had to be supported by the whole. Even though not all people went on woodruns the whole Commune had to support them. There was lot involved. Some of us, who knew we would be around in winter, when firewood would be even more needed and harder to get than at any other time, made efforts to motivate folks to get large quantities of it in the Spring and Summer. This was not always easy to do, nor were those efforts appreciated. There was so much at stake, the need was so fundamental, that under the physical plane there were deep things going on having to do with the relationship between the men (women did not get involved or go on wood runs until quite late in my experience at SR). There were tensions related to the allocation of resources, the handling of tools, the feelings of inferiority or superiority engendered by questions concerning the division of labor (who drives? Who cuts? Who loads? Who holds? Who decides where we go to find wood today?). There was exhileration at seeing the firewood pile up in the woodshed, the oak, the fir, the Madrone all in more or less neat piles. When SR first “opened” it was September (see my previous writing on When I first came to SR.) and the only wood required was for the kitchen stove and the living room, and shortly after for the Sauna (formerly clothes closet, subsequently part of Ted&Ellen Sue’s place.). At this time we did not own a chainsaw and wood was gathered by going out in Larry & Barbara’s VW bus or in the Fleshmobile, a flesh colored Chevy Crummie. Using swedish saws that worked quite well we cut 6 to 8 foot pieces of madrone or oak or branches of Fir tree, usually not more than 8 inches in diameter, loaded as many as possible in the vehicle and brought them back to SR. There, in the vicinity of what became the “Lodge” we had a 14 to 20 inch (maybe larger) stationary saw blade mounted on “trailer” with a movable platform that allowed the lengths of wood we had collected to be fed into the spinning saw blade. Power for the spinning blade was provided by a gasoline motor that was connected by something like a fan belt to a shaft to which the blade was affixed. This contraption was given to us on loan by Mr. Ed (a chapter himself). Of course, to start the engine one had to pull a cord, similar to a lawn mower, and pull and pull and pull… some were more skillful at getting the thing started than others and it was quite a gas to feed the wood onto this movable platform, push it just so far and then push the platform forward into the spinning blade while one of the guys held on to the end that was cut off and passed it off to someone else who would stack it. We did it like this for a few months, occasionally getting a load of wood from Delbert who at that time was in the firewood business. I do not remember exactly what month it was, but we got snowed in and this system became impracticable and since by now we had, 4 or 5 stoves to keep going, a chainsaw was carried up three miles in the snow. Maybe Logan was the hero, I do not remember for sure, but certainly the chainsaw was a major event. It signaled a passage from a more primitive method to a more modern one that was definitely noticed and possibly mourned by more than one of us. There is no question, it made life easier. Still using the same vehicles, later replaced by the red Chevy pick up and later still by the Beast (late 40s or early 50s Dodge yellow flat bed truck with homemade log sideboards) we now cut the wood into stove length pieces in the woods and stacked it in the vehicle and upon unloading took the biscuits directly into the wood shed now located behind the root cellar and behind the old kitchen. Of course, this is schematic and a mere outline. On the human level the process often went like this- I was one of the earlier risers and after Jimmy came he joined me and often Rita Downs in preparing breakfast for the kiddies and others who began to stagger into the kitchen where, by this time, coffee and, usually oatmeal, was ready. Then the process of gathering the crew for the woodrun would begin. More often than not, at least for the first couple or three years, it is my memory that I was the driving force behind this effort. I would go around the “courtyard”, sometime waking people up and ask them to come on the woodrun. The answer was not always positive. Larry and I were pretty much always available, but it was good to have a couple of other people along mostly for loading and for general pushing and pulling that would need to be done to place the log in position for cutting. Larry and I generally hogged the driving and the chainsaw. He would cut and I would hold the piece that came off the saw or viceversa. Of course, others got to use the saw—I will never forget the beautiful figure and grace of the man (can’t remember the name now) who was a fugitive from justice for having blown up some US govt. building in Michigan. He had worked in a Florida swamp cutting cypress and had a lot of experience with chainsaws. When he came on a couple of wood runs he got to handle the saw and it was truly poetry in motion…I remember some others too… and some who whenever they touched the equipment it somehow managed to get broken… It was an almost daily event, and as time went by we had to venture further and further away from the driveway and when arrived at a likely spot, further from the road and vehicle so that the biscuits had to be carried a longer distance to the vehicle. Part of the equipment was a long steel bar used to wedge and lever the logs into cutting position, another useful tool was a pole inserted into a pointed metal contraption from which hung a hook that was used to roll the logs and move them into position for cutting. It was important to keep the saw from binding and the chain from braking. When, on occasion, the chain was broken, or the saw wouldn’t start it was crisis time and the saw had to be taken to town for repairs. That was bad as it required money and the time the saw was in the shop was a time when we couldn’t go out and get wood, thus depleting the store of wood. Upon returning to the top of the driveway the call was traditionally—MANPOWER- shouted out in a loud cry. The word would reverberate through all of SR and people would come to the vehicle and help to unload and stack the wood in the shed. It was not uncommon to have as many as eight or ten people help in this part of the operation. It was the culmination of the woodrun, it signaled that lunch would soon follow, that we would be warm for another few days, that we had shared another experience together, that we had solved some problems together, that we had provided a necessity for the community, that the spirit of cooperation was alive. It was one of the ties that bound us together. I am glad to have been on many, many wodruns…

AN EXAMPLE TYPICAL OF SR

AN EXAMPLE TYPICAL OF SR

AN EXAMPLE TYPICAL OF SR

AN EXAMPLE TYPICAL OF SR

AN EXAMPLE TYPICAL OF SR