About Free Time

What a hoot!

My readers are always giving support and sometimes a jab or two about my ideas of work, play, rest and fun. I have to admit that I tend to be a busy-body, that is one that likes to be in motion rather than a person who is tethered to a cubicle all day or sits behind a desk that does not bark, moo or grow.

I am not much of lounge-er, a movie watch-er, or do I enjoy spending a day binge watching past episodes of a popular serial. My previous post about Me Time had me out running the chain saw instead of sitting on the couch eating Bon-Bons. My wide-flung readers took exception to my enjoyment and I heard through texts, social media and in person, that my idea of fun is rather unconventional. So be it, this is not a new passion or something that getting older has had a part in. To prove my point, I’ll share a little story that happened many years ago…

It was Thanksgiving week and it must have been at least 30 years ago, but it may have been more because I did not write it down at the time. Anyway, Thanksgiving week has traditionally been, in this area, the second season of elk hunting for my group of avid hunters. Rather than large gatherings around a perfect holiday table, the hunters go out into the woods.

I am not a hunter, I am the one who stays home to babysit the cows while the others go out in search of big game. This works to my advantage, without any supervisors around, I get to pick and chose what I want to do once the daily chores are caught up, the stock tanks are full of water and no one is calving, and etc. Needless to say, out of all the time the crew is out hunting, I still don’t always get the time to do whatever I want, so when I do it is very special to me.

But back to the story. It was a cool, crisp day. No clouds, no wind. The morning chores went smoothly, all the cows were fed and meandering around the hillside. I did not have to fill the stock tanks with water, or do any mucking out of the barns. I had the day to myself.

Nearly giddy with the thought of several hours without a care, I grabbed a chainsaw, filled it with gas and oil and headed out to make a little firewood (It was during this time when we were making firewood to sell in bulk, five cord at a time was hauled in the Big Red Beast long before she was a beast and was simply called the Farm Truck. I enjoy making firewood but on my own schedule at my own pace, thank you very much). That proves this story was from a longggg time ago.

Unbeknownst to me, this was also the time when the military used some of the barn roofs in Western Oregon as training targets (well before civilians had contemplated GPS or GIS technology). Rumor had it that a specific barn was located to be the designation target and the group that was scheduled to be on military maneuvers that week would be in search of the barn target. I had no way of knowing that maneuvers were in progress in the area or that there was such a thing going on but only heard about it after the fact and after this particular day. Apparently there were several targets chosen that used coordinates given out, many of those being barns since the roofs are so large and around the outskirts of the Vernonia and Timber areas because of the sparse population.

I had noticed helicopters in the past, following the ridge line of the hill or running the curves of the river on occasion but never realized there was any kind of coordinated effort that involved training.

So on this day, I was out there at the log deck with my chain saw, happily sawing away, when I heard a low helicopter coming up the valley from the Vernonia area. Since we have a good sized hill that butts right up to the bend in the river, I could hear the approach over the sound of the saw, without seeing it. When I looked up, there was a  large, camouflaged chopper nearly at eye level with military personnel in full combat gear, including helmets and weapons, hanging out of the open doors scanning for a perceived target when they came upon me and my chain saw (it would have been an unusual sight back then since most chain saws were made for men and few women were known to use them at that time).

I could see startled faces as the chopper made a turn and circled back around to get a second look before heading off in the direction of Timber. When I recounted the story to the hunting crew when they returned home, I heard of the barn target maneuvers. Mike said that the crew may of thought I was a decoy, set out to distract them from their mission! It seemed to me that not only did I have a good time getting a little wood cut, but got to surprise a group of military personnel in one fell swoop. And to me, that is a very satisfying day of free time!

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