Living in the desert, stocking up on firewood isn’t on my radar anymore, but while growing up in Washington, it was a part of life. Before the internet was a thing, my dad used a service called Firewood Finders that was a phone based hotline that gave info on areas that had become available for members. Basically, they got permits to go into DNR lands after a logging operation had come through and done their thing and their members could then go in on their permit and and load up their trucks.
We’d head out on a Saturday morning in the old F-100 and once we got up the logging road to the area in question, looked around for a good spot and got to work. There was a surprising amount of felled trees the loggers considered scrap that would make top shelf firewood, so some chainsaw work and humping them into the truck, and we were good for quite a few fires. Truth be told, we would do this several times, pulling several cords of wood to be more than stocked for winter and then dad would split them at home before stacking them under a tarp.
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