Up, up and away

When we built our house in the early 1990s, we were adamant that we would do so without cutting down a single tree.  Even the small pine in front was accommodated by a diversion in the terrace wall. This tiny pine repaid us by growing tall and providing shade for the whole terrace. We accepted that it would fill the pool with needles, kill the roses growing underneath and provide a home for squirrels whose clicking and scurrying drive the dog to barking lunacy (usually at about 3am). In the last couple of years we've started to get uneasy about its height and the prospect of a branch landing on our newly retiled roof.  This year, on a trip to Scotland, I drove past a familiar house and was shocked to see its gable end missing; a pine had fallen on it in the winter. I returned home with a picture of the shattered house and realised that if our pine was felled by a storm, it wouldn't just be the roof that was damaged. 

So the decision was made. The pine would have to go. But how?  Google "tree surgeon" in this area and you won't get any useful results. A call was made to the Forestry Commission office and they paid a visit to give us permission to fell the tree but couldn't help with the act. Various "men with chainsaws" were consulted but they didn't inspire confidence.  We had so protected our pine that its base was now imbedded in the terrace wall and apart from a 20 degree margin, it didn't have anywhere to safely fall.  If only it could be lifted up and away....

And it was.  Take one experienced chain saw operator in a cherry picker and another professional in a crane and bit by bit the tree was cut from the top down and lifted free.  I'm telling you this as if I was there. I wasn't - thank goodness. It all happened last week end: My daughter, Esi, can take up the story 

" I don't usually go to work with my fiancé but as he was off to my family house I was happy to hitch a lift. Getting into the massive mobile winch was a struggle, but I heaved myself up and I was able to appreciate my other half's skill in manoeuvring the giant through the summer traffic. On the way, I started to feel a bit apprehensive. What if something went wrong and my fiancé dropped a tree through his prospective father-in-law's roof. 
As we turned into our very narrow lane the size of the crane became even more obvious. We struggled to avoid trees and had to inch through the garden gate. By this time Jake had caught scent of something unusual going on and came running down.  He took one look at the metal mountain approaching and shot back up the drive, tail between his legs and hid behind Dad, who on second glance, seemed to be standing at a funny angle. He'd put his back out clearing the lane for us.  Whoops, not a good  start. 

 Jake and I sat back and watched as the chainsaw operator was lifted up into the tree, he peered down at us through the branches like Tarzan. After the first few limbs (tree not chainsaw guy) were cut, the winch bands could be tied to the trunk and the pine was dismantled bit by bit.  Hearing the loud crack as the trunk was split was like witnessing a thunderstorm without the rain or clouds. The first few bits were small and light but once it got down to the base of the tree the winch started to shake and the front wheels began to lift above the ground.  

Soon the tree was gone, the only damage being the underlying plants, which were covered with pinecones and needles. The pictures above show the mechanics of the lift but cannot describe how unnerving it was watching something so big 

being held by just a band and swung from a winch 

so close to my childhood home" 

If anyone reading this has a difficult tree to remove, send me an email at backtobodrum@gmail.com and I'll send you details.