Finding Firewood
~ by Jeff Tryon
As the frigid curtain of the polar vortex gutpunches the Midwest, the regular suppliers start to dry up and it becomes increasingly difficult to locate a good rick of firewood.
You try all the usual places: slab wood at the local sawmill, the old store down the road, that house in Fruitdale with the occasional stack of wood out front— nothing doing.
As your on-hand supply of combustibles dwindles and the thermometer plunges, you become more and more keenly interested in the machinations of the local wood-burning subculture. Everyone you meet or talk to, you query and prod about where the good wood might be and how much it might cost.
Your eye is distracted when you drive past a particularly fine looking pile of firewood,“ Now that’ s a good looking rick of wood.” You can check the spot market in the ad section of the local paper, but I’ m telling you right now without even looking, prices will be premium— like $ 65 bucks a rick— or even more.
It’ s ironic, really, searching for wood in the midst of this enormous, complex, remarkably diverse, hardwood forest in which you live.
The great deciduous forests of southern Indiana and Illinois are the rain forest of North America. The
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remarkable variety of trees means that firewood gatherers who cut up tops from timbering or sell off leftovers from pallet-making or board-sawing come across a delightful cornucopia of combustible cellulose.
You get a lot of oak— white oak, and the preferred red oak. But it can be anything— maple, hickory, beech, birch, sycamore, black cherry, black walnut, red cedar, poplar, even dogwood, redbud, or pine.
Given the abundant diversity of hardwoods available locally, a certain superior attitude develops amongst the wood-burning classes. People become better informed through experience and develop firm opinions about what sort of wood is best for heating the homestead.
I mean, there’ s firewood, and then there’ s firewood. After I ran low after a stretch of particularly nasty weather I texted my brother’ s wood provider to see if he had anything available.
That’ s right— he does business only by text. I’ m using a cell phone to order firewood— 18 th century meets the 21 st century.
“ I’ ve got loads of wood stacked, but most isn’ t worth $ 50,” came the return text.“ It’ s a mix of Beech, Maple and a small amount of Oak. If you come and
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