We had Arc-Lin employees help us out on the Middle Fork project the other day for their thrice annual volunteer stint with us. We are making three trail re-routes to deal with erosion by the Middle Fork of the Willamette River and need to build a bridge and two puncheons, the latter low bridges, over perennial wet areas on the trail.
We arrived at the “user trail” on FS road 21, the 28 mile marker visible, well south of Oakridge. This is an unmaintained path about 200 yards to the Middle Fork Trail, with a significant drop, and we needed to carry a few dozen pieces of decking in, each a 6 by 6 cedar log 6 feet long, carried on a shoulder. I went first to show the second level volunteers where the destination was.
No problem. I knew the trail and got to the dumping off point for the planks with two behind me but back a little ways. I noted one had two planks on his shoulder. These guys are young and strong.
We divvied up the work among the group; two groups would do bridge work, I was doing the bypass, the most physical part of the job. Four of us worked on the new trail. It had a small but definitely not to be ignored stream in the middle of its 50 yard length, and there were multiple large rocks which needed to be moved. I did some drainage work then returned to the other end of the bypass to do some more digging. I was under an 8 inch log that was about 40 feet long that needed to cut out with a power saw later. Chase, the strong guy who carried two deck planks, came by a little later and rotated the log maybe 20 degrees. I told him to wait for the saw. He agreed.
The morning passed by quickly, and we had lunch, courtesy of our visitors, who bring it for us as payment for their being abused. While eating, I kept thinking about the log and wondered if we could move it. I process slowly, and Chase had likely forgotten about it, but I had an idea. The bridge work was going well with the others, who were in the water and using various power tools along with some rebar to hold the stringers to the perpendicular sills.
After lunch, we returned to our spots, and I called Chase over. He lifted one end of the log, which was wedged between two trees, but it wasn’t going anywhere easily. I went down the hill under the log, took the Pulaski and hacked once at the log. Interesting. It seemed breakable.
“Give me ten whacks,” Chase said. I nodded.
I count things.
The log eventually broke in half, and each of us was able to move one piece. Mine was easier, since it was already off the trail. Chase pushed his into the woods. The other guys were working on moving several multi-hundred pound rocks, using a pry bar and muscles. I keep forgetting when young people work with us, we need to view the workload differently. Movements we think impossible suddenly become possible.
Chase was wrong about his chopping ability. He needed 25 whacks.
See you on the trail. Hope you enjoy the bypass.
Boreal B[l]og 
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