A couple of years back my neighbor had a huge poplar taken down. This particular type of tree is also known as a dogwood to some.

This tree was mammoth. Gargantuan. Ginormous. There are some tall trees around here but this thing was head and shoulders above them all.

So after having it cut down and sliced up into rounds (basically, just round sections of the tree trunk), my neighbor discovered that it was way too much wood for his family to handle. He asked me if I wanted some of it.

Absolutely! Hey, it’s free wood! There was probably two cords of it, which was enough to keep us toasty warm for two winters.

Only problem was, those rounds are way too big for the fireplace. They have to be split into fireplace-sized logs. No big deal; poplar is easy to split. My neighbor wasn’t having any problem with it.

So I stacked the rounds in the side of the yard and left them there to season for a few months, so that the following summer I could split them up.

The first ten or so went really easy. They practically fell apart with just the barest swing of the maul. In fact, I got my daughters into the act:

Over the course of the summer we were able to split all but about twenty of the rounds. These ones were really tough to split, and had resisted all of my best efforts. I vowed to finish up the splitting the next year, using a power log splitter.

There was some urgency in finishing up. I want to build a play structure where the wood happens to be parked. I want to get that built this year, so I need to finish up the splitting.

I took a couple of days off last week to rent a power splitter and finish up the job. I called the rental company, and they had a splitter. I asked if they could deliver. Sure, no problem, they said. We’ll have it out to you Tuesday morning at 8 o’clock.

Tuesday morning, I waited around. 8 o’clock came and went. As it pushed past 9, I called the rental company. Where is that splitter? Oh, we have it on will call, they said. I explained that I’d specifically asked for delivery because my Honda minivan did not come standard with a trailer hitch. Sorry, it’s written down as will call. Forget it then, I said. Just cancel it.

I brought out my chainsaw and blew off the dust. That’ll work; I can cut some big slices out of these things, carve ‘em up like pie.

But unfortunately one of the things that chainsaws need the most is bar & chain oil, of which I had none.

So it was just me and that splitting maul again.

I hauled out a round and took a few swings at it. The maul bit deeply into the wood, and just stuck. A few more swings yielded the same results: all bark, no bite. In frustration, I took one more swing, and split the round wide open. Progress!

Energized, I went ahead with a few more. All told I was able to finish eight of them that day.

I didn’t have any more time off, but I could devote fifteen to thirty minutes every evening to hack on one or two until they were all complete.

I did just that, splitting one or two rounds every evening for the last week.

Yesterday I was all prepared to plow through two or three of them. I selected a likely-looking round and took a swing. The maul stuck in deep, requiring a lot of effort to lever it back out. Two more swings gave me the same effect. I stood back and took a couple of deep breaths, and gave a monumental swing. Success! The thing split from top to bottom, but didn’t fall apart.

No problem, I thought. One more swing will finish it.

I swung hard, and the maul handle shattered. Only I didn’t see where the head went. In the two seconds following the maul’s destruction, I had two thoughts flash through my mind: the head went sailing off into the neighbor’s yard and is going to smash through their back door, and I shall be sued; and the head is finishing its upward flight and is now heading back down to embed itself in my skull.

In fact, the head was still in the wood, with a dagger-like point of wooden handle jutting from it. I held the remainder of the handle in my hands.

I was done for the day.

I consoled myself with the fact that despite the difficulty with this task that lay ahead, I was ready to keep pressing on with my efforts. It was the maul that gave up first.