Off the Leash - By Hank

Well, folks, your ol’ buddy Hank has reached the age where he’s too old to dress up for Halloween. I did enjoy my years of dressing up, though. While some trick-or-treaters lean towards a cute or funny costume, I always liked the scary ones. Some of my favorites were a serial enviro litigator, a DOT inspector, and, scariest of all, a Facebook expert. But the time has come to start acting like a grown dog and leave the treats to the young pups. After all, Mom—I mean Coleen—wouldn’t let me eat the chocolate ones anyway. Something about it killing me, which sounds made up if you ask me.

Halloween's origins trace back over 2,000 years to the Celtic festival of Samhain. This festival marked the transition from summer and harvest to winter, a time when Celts believed the boundary between the living and the dead blurred, allowing ghosts to return. Celtic traditions were later influenced by Roman festivals honoring the dead and the goddess of fruit and trees. As Christianity spread, the Church incorporated some traditions into All Saints' Day (November 1) and All Souls' Day (November 2), with the night before All Saints' Day becoming All-Hallows Eve, eventually known as Halloween. 

By the early 20th century in America, Halloween mischief, often involving vandalism and pranks, had become a significant problem. In the 1930s, communities sought a way to curb the increasing vandalism, and community-based trick-or-treating was promoted as a way to control the chaos by offering a small, sweet reward in exchange for good behavior. Thanks to this effort, naughty kids became good kids for the night, and now some of you grinches sit in the dark, avoiding these nice children every October 31st.

I know what you're thinking: what's this got to do with logging? My nose was working overtime on this one. Well, the Celts figured when the harvest was done and winter was coming on strong; the spirits came out to play. That's a lot like spending all day in a skidder chasing trees left by the buncher operator on steep ground. A fella can start seeing things. So, the Celts put on animal hides and lit bonfires to keep the bad spirits at bay. I can understand that as I've seen some things out there that make you want to put on a real good bark and hope it's not looking for trouble.

In my book, those old Celts had a lot in common with the old-time loggers. Both were dealing with the wild, and they had to have a healthy dose of respect for what they couldn't see. They weren’t afraid to put out a bit of food and drink, either, though their offerings were mostly aimed at keeping the crew fed and logs rolling to the mill.

Then along comes the modern world, and things get all civilized. Instead of bonfires, kids now go door-to-door looking for sugar. But a modern-day logger shares the same story. The ghosts they deal with are different than the loggers of not that long ago. Now they're chasing years of frivolous lawsuits, beetle-killed stands that are losing merchantability, and that old ghost of a bad timber market. Instead of just a chainsaw and an old wore-out skidder, making it now takes a pile of expensive iron and a good banker, all relying on an unstable timber supply.  Scary stuff and I think its high time that we finally get a treat instead of these nasty tricks of the past. 

Through it all, the work goes on. The woods still have a certain kind of magic to them, and a forest that needs active management is worth fighting for. And just like Halloween of the past, our industry is on the cusp of some great changes.

And as I’ve learned sniffing around the state, a tough season can be just that—tough. But when the dust settles, there’s always a silver lining. Or in my case, a good bone. So, here’s to the stewards of the forest, ancient and modern, and to all the traditions that remind us of the wild we’ve tamed.

Until next time,

Hank