Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Strategies & Market Trends : Winter in the Great White North -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: E. Charters who wrote (5985)	11/30/2004 3:31:16 AM
From: marcos	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 8273

Don't take the mill to the wood, take the wood to the mill .... old maxim that, comes from mills being large heavy items when you've got enough bells and whistles on them to 1. be efficient, and 2. require millwrights and electricians 24/7 Technology is great, it's taken the vibration out of chainsaws, well out of the handlebars anyway, and made them one quarter the weight .... hand a modern saw to a guy back in 1950, he'd think it was a toy, or jewelry or something, twenty-five pounds, pffft that's nothing, then the chain speed would knock him over, they really honk nowadays ..... but, you still have to pack it up and down the hill, and no there won't be machines on a lot of that ground, ever Well - found, in Hansard no less - ' Port Alice — whose pulp mill, incidentally, still uses a digester that was manufactured in Brandenburg, Germany, in 1888' ..... and then just below, this - . I pulled jerk-wire whistles on an old 11-by-17 Willamette steam donkey For a hooktender that screamed for my blood. I worked the booms on the big Davis rafts and pulled line Till my fingers cracked and bled and stung With the salt chuck. I felled spruce trees that looked like the size of the Tower of Babel And I topped spar trees that reached up into the heavens and swayed Like a leaf in the wind when the top came off. I worked with Roughhouse Pete, Highball Slim, Big Bad Bill, And Moses Dean and every other mean, ornery son of a gun of a real Man that ever called himself a logger. And the bosses — I hired out to them all — old man Allison, Morgan, Kelly — P.B. and his boys — Matt Hemmingson and the grand daddy of them all H.R. It wasn't all good, kid And it wasn't all bad. And a man was judged by the hunger he had for logs And we had hunger, boy, and we got logs. I wouldn't have traded one minute of that life — The smell of the new-felled balsam or spruce on an early Misty morning Or the clang of that old cookhouse bell, Or the feeling of putting a choker around a big spruce blue butt, Or listening to the bunkhouse diplomats as they sat On their bunks at night sizing up the situation. The memories of those damn tough men, from bullcooks to presidents, they are part of your heritage, kid, and their muscle and savvy gave you what you got today. And it may not be all good, boy — But it sure as heck ain't all bad. - Bill Moore legis.gov.bc.ca