Wood Burning Joys

We have heated our domicile solely by burning wood, for over 30 years now. I have enjoyed the many satisfactions of wood burning, but recently read an article that added one more pleasure to the process. But first, let me count the ways that I find heating the house with a wood stove fulfilling.

First, gathering wood is excellent physical exercise. I think it was Thoreau who ticked off the numerous times that wood burning warms the body and soul: when you cut it, when you haul it, when you split and stack it, and finally, when you burn it. Being well into my Social Security years, cutting and collecting wood helps keep me young. (Well, OK, it does force this aging body to do hard work, which is therapeutic.)

Second, we save lots of money over conventional heating methods. We are fortunate to be surrounded by woods and our logs come free. Just the cost of some sweat labor and a chain saw are the price we pay. 

Third, wood is a renewable resource. Trees are continually growing around here. We're not burning nonrenewable fossil fuels.

Fourth, there is the satisfaction of being self-sufficient and free of being forced to rely on the whims of the volatile fossil fuel markets. There is something important about holding onto one's autonomy these days, through developing some proficiency of being able to take care of yourself. We can't depend on governments and businesses to be as reliable as they once were.

Fifth, all these years of handling wood, as I cut, carry, split, and stuff it into the stove, have given me the pleasure of coming to know and appreciate wood...even revere it and the trees that provide it. I love the smell of freshly-cut red oak and the way its straight grain yields to my splitting maul. I love being able to cut up a hardwood tree that a strong wind has toppled—saving me the danger of felling it myself—and using its heat value before it has a chance to begin rotting. I love being in the woods, looking up at those majestic trees, feeling a deep reverence for their great size and longevity. They both dwarf and provide for me.

If these weren't enough reasons for enjoying burning wood, I recently added another one to my list. An article in a magazine described how the wood stove has traditionally been a focal point of the home. Warmth radiates from it—filling the interior space with cheer. People cuddle up to a stove. They gather round it and enjoy each other's company. Wood stoves literally build community!

In contrast, a furnace relegates the source of warmth to the basement, or hides it in a closet. We feel no coziness with a furnace and have little understanding of or familiarity with it. There's a thermostat on the wall—put there by an expert, whose operation we only dimly comprehend. We listen to it click noisily on and off. When it suddenly quits working, we call another expert in a panic to come fix it. We have no real involvement with or understanding of a furnace.

 

What have we lost in trading our wood stoves for furnaces? Some people would say that we've thankfully lost messiness, inconvenience, and a sore back. Good riddance! I think there are some tangible benefits to burning wood, however. In fact, I've just listed six of them! That said, I have to admit to looking forward now to some warm days, when the windows are open and those balmy breezes waft through. (Now I labor in the garden.)

Getting the Wood In

A splendid winter experience is cozying up to a fine fire in the woodstove, as it radiates its warmth throughout the house. On the most bitter days, when the wind howls threateningly outside, we can stand close to the stove, slowly rotating, and feel the heat seep deeply into our aging bones. Wail away, Old Man Winter!

Our woodstove—being the sole source of heat for the house—is essential, so it’s warmth is something that we’ve sought to dependably provide. (More on that mission below.) It’s gratifying not to have to be subject to the whims and capricious supply lines of the gas and oil companies. And if the electric power goes out in a storm, not to worry; it has no impact on the woodstove.

We live in an underground house, so we burn about one-third the wood that our conventionally-housed neighbors do. We consume a cord and a half of wood each winter—a modest amount, of which I get more and more appreciative, as I age.

But all those advantages of our wood-burning routine come at a cost: the labor required to saw, haul, and split the wood. (There is no free lunch.) If those tasks are bungled, burning wood to heat one’s abode can transform from a pleasure into a grim ordeal. Over the nearly 30 winters that I’ve stoked a woodstove, I’ve learned a few lessons on how to successfully gather firewood (or not). There have been more than a few times when I miscalculated (cut too little) or was slow in splitting and stacking my wood supply. Then later in the heating season, I was scrambling to find and burn inferior wood—stuff that was too green, damp, or too decayed and punky. Rather than luxuriate in those cozy times around the stove, we found ourselves fighting smoky fires, cursing crappy logs, and shivering in the resulting chill.

The best guarantee of building a backlog of high-quality wood: get your butt out in the woods a year or more ahead of time and do the work. It’s mostly a question of discipline. We have plenty of oak trees—one of the primo woodstove fuels. Rarely do I have to cut down a live one—storms seem to do the job for me. (That’s nice. It’s an intimidating experience toppling a three-foot diameter oak.) The trees are reasonably close to the house. So we are quite blessed by a handy, high-quality wood supply. I simply have to avoid procrastinating and dive into my wood labors.

Yep, it sure is nice to load up the woodstove in the evening with hard, dry logs and then get up the next morning to find a hot bed of ashes waiting, into which I toss a couple of picture-perfect logs. The teakettle is swiftly whistling. It’s even nicer to know that there’s a big pile of well-seasoned logs, just outside the door.