cannoneer
ArboristSite Lurker
Howdy!
In September of last year, I found myself back in Central Florida after several years in the US Army, wondering what to do with myself.
I served a year and some change in Baghdad, and my entire outlook on life in general was completely changed. The best I could figure, I didn't want to work in any sort of office, as I enjoyed hard work outdoors, and frankly, wasn't up for any of that office-rat sissy BS. As long as I can remember, I've always had calloused hands and dirty boots.
My brother has been in the arboriculture industry for years, and he got me a job as a groundsman for a local tree company here, right after all those hurricanes.
Needless to say, my job was cut out for me.
The tree company I work for has the policy of trying to flat-out kill new ground guys, just to see how tough and determined they are to keep the job. So, my second day on the job, I was stuck in a backyard with twenty-odd pines and oaks for removal and chipping. I got yelled at, hit by falling limbs, and generally felt as if I was going to die, the entire day.
The only thing I had going for me was the fact that I can speak some fairly fluent redneck spanish, so I was able to ask my Guatemalan co-workers for help when I was faced with something I didn't understand.
After I learned how to 'sled' brush and stay the hell away from the killzone under the climber, I was alright. I was bruised, battered, cut up, scratched, sunburnt, ant-stung, and exhausted, but I was alright.
And I thought the Army was tough.
This month, I became the climber/foreman for a crew, with my own chipper truck, climbing gear, and access to a bucket truck.
..
I love this job!
Since I'm still fairly inexperienced, I make mistakes, but they are becoming less and less frequent.
The friday before last, I managed to get my buckstrap around the falling half of a Washingtonian Palm tree, and I got crushed just a little bit. Ouch.
I removed a tree that had fallen onto a rickety porch and I miscalculated by two feet, taking out the corner of a screen-enclosure.
I've been reading every book on tree biology, tree pruning practices, ANSI safety standards, rigging, everything that I can get my oak-stained hands on.
The excitement I feel while flopping the top of a big-ole pine tree isn't quite the same as getting AK47 rounds sprayed at me and emptying my 240b, but I'm not bored, that's for sure!
I get to meet some pretty cool people, both as customers and in the industry, and I enjoy the neighborhood senoritas coming out to watch me monkey around in the trees.
I enjoy the outdoors, I enjoy my bad-ass Guatemalan groundsmen, I enjoy coming home from work every day knowing that I actually accomplished something.
So, to make a long post a little bit shorter, I would just like to say that I have the utmost respect for you old codgers who've been doing this for decades, without all the fancy newfangled equipment and modern ropes.
I get angry at the amateurs making the professionals look bad by needlessly spiking trees, topping beautiful oaks, snubbing limbs while "pruning", and mutilating Florida's trees in order to turn a quick buck.
I'm still learning, but one of these days, I hope to be as f^*%$ing squared away as you gentlemen, and I hope to be doing this for as long as I'm physically able.
Rock on,
Mac
In September of last year, I found myself back in Central Florida after several years in the US Army, wondering what to do with myself.
I served a year and some change in Baghdad, and my entire outlook on life in general was completely changed. The best I could figure, I didn't want to work in any sort of office, as I enjoyed hard work outdoors, and frankly, wasn't up for any of that office-rat sissy BS. As long as I can remember, I've always had calloused hands and dirty boots.
My brother has been in the arboriculture industry for years, and he got me a job as a groundsman for a local tree company here, right after all those hurricanes.
Needless to say, my job was cut out for me.
The tree company I work for has the policy of trying to flat-out kill new ground guys, just to see how tough and determined they are to keep the job. So, my second day on the job, I was stuck in a backyard with twenty-odd pines and oaks for removal and chipping. I got yelled at, hit by falling limbs, and generally felt as if I was going to die, the entire day.
The only thing I had going for me was the fact that I can speak some fairly fluent redneck spanish, so I was able to ask my Guatemalan co-workers for help when I was faced with something I didn't understand.
After I learned how to 'sled' brush and stay the hell away from the killzone under the climber, I was alright. I was bruised, battered, cut up, scratched, sunburnt, ant-stung, and exhausted, but I was alright.
And I thought the Army was tough.
This month, I became the climber/foreman for a crew, with my own chipper truck, climbing gear, and access to a bucket truck.
..
I love this job!
Since I'm still fairly inexperienced, I make mistakes, but they are becoming less and less frequent.
The friday before last, I managed to get my buckstrap around the falling half of a Washingtonian Palm tree, and I got crushed just a little bit. Ouch.
I removed a tree that had fallen onto a rickety porch and I miscalculated by two feet, taking out the corner of a screen-enclosure.
I've been reading every book on tree biology, tree pruning practices, ANSI safety standards, rigging, everything that I can get my oak-stained hands on.
The excitement I feel while flopping the top of a big-ole pine tree isn't quite the same as getting AK47 rounds sprayed at me and emptying my 240b, but I'm not bored, that's for sure!
I get to meet some pretty cool people, both as customers and in the industry, and I enjoy the neighborhood senoritas coming out to watch me monkey around in the trees.
I enjoy the outdoors, I enjoy my bad-ass Guatemalan groundsmen, I enjoy coming home from work every day knowing that I actually accomplished something.
So, to make a long post a little bit shorter, I would just like to say that I have the utmost respect for you old codgers who've been doing this for decades, without all the fancy newfangled equipment and modern ropes.
I get angry at the amateurs making the professionals look bad by needlessly spiking trees, topping beautiful oaks, snubbing limbs while "pruning", and mutilating Florida's trees in order to turn a quick buck.
I'm still learning, but one of these days, I hope to be as f^*%$ing squared away as you gentlemen, and I hope to be doing this for as long as I'm physically able.
Rock on,
Mac
