There's
A
MAP???
JEEZ!
I took a two year Urban arboriculture program at a Community college. Pretty crappy program, thinking back on it. The climbing workshops were the best aspect, but man there were a lot of dropouts when we went past 30'. The for profit college couldn't have that, so the lamers had to be coddled along.
There were too many useless project assignments that seemed scrambled together to keep the class size up. One in particular: "Show your design for construction of an 8 foot square street-tree planter." I turned in a single page that listed the names and addresses of three companies that manufacture planters, complete with price lists and a cryptic comment about not re-inventing the wheel. C-
There was a worthy assignment to collect twig and branch section samples from 25 specific indigenous species. So my assignment comes in glued to thick art stock, arrows showing various identification landmarks such as pith, stipules, bud arrangements and so forth, covered everything the project called for. A couple of girls and a fag who had (by then) opted out of the climbing course turned in a museum quality project they rolled in on wheels with laquered oak framing, brass hinges and clasps showcasing their samples on padded green felt under glass. I got another C.
Then there was the day our field instructor showed us how to fell a tree. Dead pine, in a woodlot, 20" dbh. He says how he wants it to go right there, because it will cause the least damage to neighboring trees and that that is the most important factor. It had the tiniest lean that way, but was backweighted all wrong, and the wind was against him. I pointed this out to him, should put a rope in, but he says I'm wrong. Sure enough his saw gets pinched on the backcut, he struggles with it for ten minutes before I go to my truck and get him some wedges and a sledge. But the backweight is fighting him now and he can't put the wedges in deep enough before they hit his stuck bar. So I made another trip to my truck and get my chainsaw and make a shallow notch above his cut, fell the tree and rescue his saw. My efforts strip off the side of an Acer negundo, crappy little weed tree, he made a big deal about it infront of the class but quietly gave me an A on my field work.
Then there was the unscheduled three hour rant session where the prof and several of the students failing the field portion wanted the teams that were climbing well broken up and reformed so that the weak would be coached by the strong. It was true, the good climbers had teamed up to leave the weak behind. So I looked at my climbing partner Willy, gave a shrug, he shrugged back, I stood up and said, "I'll take Sharon." Willy leaned back in his chair and said, "I'll take Sharon as well."
Well then the whole thing blew up into a sexist scandal, with schreeching feminists calling in the college admin to give us all gender sensitivity awareness training. Will was expelled, and I was on a thread, for nothing more that agreeing to help out a stuggling climber with nice tits.
Sharon never did get up a tree past 30', but I have gender sensitivity absolutely pouring out of my ass, so it was never a problem.
The start of the second year was much better, class was trimmed down to the real tree-workers. We started to do some proper climbing. Competion style: Put the paper cup on a spot the next guy can't get. Stuff like that. We were having a good time.
The prof also had weekend jobs that the students did, I was on several of them, it was real work, no pay, prof was making out easily on these jobs, but the experience was worth it.
Then there was a weekend job that I was not on. I had other shifts that I was working.
Jeremy was killed when he was dragged off a limb by bad rigging. Or he cut his own line without a backup, or both, no one is saying and there is a shroud of silence. The prof went into hiding due to grief, or guilt and the rest of the year was handled by his assistant and, well, me.
The college mothballed the program for a few years, but have run it sporadically since then.
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