So I was out on a block cut Wednesday with a bucker and watched a butt cut resulting from some impressive butt rigging while chokers and a chaser danced around and under the landing, counting the hours until the crummy finally took them down the mountain. Welcome to the world of logging, a profession I would not recommend to the faint-of-heart, or air-conditioned desk jockeys such as yours truly. My ankles broke just watching the chokers hop from log to log. There is a reason I went into journalism and one of them is comfort. There is no lunchroom on …
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