At our cabin we have a triangular trail about a mile long. Its base is near the south property line and its apex is near our cabin. We have a bunch of cut brush on the east leg, but the chipper is on the west leg. We don't want to haul the brush up one leg and down the other, a total of 660 feet extra. We can use a cross path that parallels the boundary between an alder/balsam stand and a much bigger aspen stand.
The problem is that we have not maintained that path, a deer trail, since some brush was bent over by a heavy snow.
I had cleared in a few feet from each end of the cross path and had been working to reopen the path. However, in the eight or so years since the path was blocked, a lot of stuff has gotten bigger, way bigger.
Saturday, to get some idea where I should cut, I just pushed and ducked my way from west to east. I came across an old pit I'd never seen before, an old well maybe. I didn't see any of my old yellow flagging tapes. I saw something familiar in a clearing ahead. It was the remains of fox cages from the thirties. We had never gotten rid of all the chicken wire fencing. I tried stepping over it carefully, but I tripped on the last roll, nearly jabbing my gut with the handles of the nippers I was carrying. This spot was about 60 feet north of where I intended to be.
I went to the east end of the path and plunged into the thicket again. I never recognized anything except the old pit. I eventually came out where we had planted red oaks 19 years ago. The last died out about 14 years ago. This spot was also about 60 feet north of where I intended to be. At least I don't have a left or right bias. I think I misjudged the sun's position relative to where I wanted to be.
Then on Sunday, I worked on clearing some of the west end of the path. I flagged ahead where I thought I should clear the next time I work on this path. I turned around to go back to where I had left the cart. I couldn't see it, and I couldn't see where I had flagged. I went in what I thought was the easiest way. When I finally saw the cart again, you guessed it, I was somewhat north of it.
When I got back to Duluth and a half-way decent internet connection, I checked the length of the cross path - about 320 feet in a straight line!
So, I'm clearing 320 feet so we don't have to haul a few cartloads of brush an extra 340 feet!
Oh, well, I enjoy clearing and chipping brush, and I do like having that cross path open just for the variety.
Besides, if I clear enough brush maybe I'll be qualified to be President:)
