The carriage was about ten feet long and four feet wide. It rode on wheels on a pair of steel tracks and was pulled back and forth by a cable arrangement driven through a cone clutch controlled by the sawyer.
The sawblade was about four feet in diamter and had replaceable bits (teeth) and cut about a 1/4 inch kerf. The sawdust was blown along a curved tin trough to the log side of the mill and was then shovelled away. Some of it would be used later as insulation in the icehouse.
The front and tail dogs were mounted on the bunks, they had a sharpened spike which drove down into the log to hold it in place.
The bunks moved laterally through a cog arrangement controlled by a ratchet handle to set the thickness of the cut. There was a sliding gauge on the bunks which the sawyer could see.
Power for the mill came through a pulley and belt arrangement usually connected to a big pulley-wheel farm tractor.
1. Sawblade |
2. Carriage |
3.Thickness control |
4. Front dog |
5. Track |
6. Cable |
7. Carriage conrol |
8. Sawyer |
9. Canter |
A better pic of a canthook and its use
Making firewood--- one way (bucksaw)------------------------------or another (cordwood saw).
My memories of helping my Dad make firewood when I was young. The cordwood saw was similar to the one in the picture but it had a tilting table with a slot for the blade so you didn't have to get so up close and personal. It was gas powered with a belt drive and was damn noisy. I usually got the wood and helped him put it on the table and slide it along. In retrospect it was a pretty dangerous operation I suppose, but I got to help my Dad, and that was good.
I make my firewood with a chainsaw these days and it all seems so...civilized.
My other fond memories of wood are from working at the fibreboard plant. We used wood
hooks to toss the four foot pulp logs from the trucks onto wood racks or into the chipper, once on the coldest night ever recorded in this country.
Sometimes the chipper (think of it as a food processor with a seven foot long, multi-ton blade) would reject a frozen log and send it flying halfway down the woodyard, or have it ricochet around the operators position. Time to run, shit or go blind. Ah, good times, good times.
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