Splitting wood not such a chore; video

December isn't the best outdoors month in Maine. It might be the worst. Fishing, boating and hunting season are behind us. Bird-watching has tapered down. Gardening? Are you kidding? It's too early for winter fun. There's usually no snow on the ground or ice on the ponds. That leaves us with few outdoors activities to pursue. So you make do. Walking the dog is a must. Running and hiking are feasible. But in my book the best December outdoors activity is splitting wood. This is the time of year to get the maul out and get to work, busting big chunks of firewood into smaller more manageable pieces.Splitting wood is easier when we've had a few sub-freezing days. The dry air and cold temperatures help freeze any remaining sap in the wood. This makes the wood brittle and less taxing to split. To me, there's something very satisfying and almost zen-like when I'm able to split a piece of firewood with one whack of the ax. The crisp snap of a clean cracking strike down the middle of the log as the grains part ways is music to my ears. Straight-grained ash is the best, but maple, birch, and even sinewy oak, yield quickly to a well-placed chop. Now I haven't always enjoyed splitting wood. Time was when it was a despised chore. One of Dad's favorite sayings whenever I was causing trouble or rough-housing with my sister was: "You need a dull bucksaw and a cord of wood." Well, we didn't have a bucksaw. We did have several cords of firewood stacked in the backyard most of the time. So Dad would hand me a maul and lead me to the wood pile. Sometimes we would rent a hydraulic splitter, but I learned early in life how to swing a maul. "Let the maul do the work and keep your eye on the target," Dad would say. It took a while to perfect my technique. I learned to not overswing, to take my time and to find the weak spot in the wood. I also learned to sort through the logs and find the ash, leaving Dad with the more challenging pieces. This wasn't the best firewood drying year. We've had a lot of rain. Even more enraging, strong winds have blown the tarps off my stacks. This means splitting the not-so-dry logs into smaller pieces is a necessity for a warmer fire. And that means I'll be out behind my woodpile with maul in hand for the next few weeks enjoying the outdoors in December. -- Ben Sturtevant