The Great Freeze

Well, I survived the great freeze-out of 2014. No busted pipes. No frostbite. Of course, it’s difficult to get frostbite when you’ve spent a total of 30 minutes outdoors in the last three days.

The lowest temperature here was -2. I have no idea what the wind chill factor was, but I bet it was brutal. For the last three days the temperature has been in the teens and the single digits during the day. I know that the cold here was nothing like people experienced in the north so I probably shouldn’t complain. Still, for a Florida boy, it’s been a bit frosty to say the least.

It has been too cold to work outside or in the workshop, so I’ve been stuck in the cabin. My activities have consisted of sleeping, watching TV, reading, playing old computer games, becoming one with the cat and the dog, and stoking the wood stove. If this continues for another two days, I will become certifiably bat shit.

My longest foray outside was to walk up to get the mail. Now that may not sound like much, but our mailbox is four-tenths of a mile from the cabin. I prepared for it like an astronaut preparing for extra-vehicular activity: double socks, long johns, four layers of clothing, scarf, mittens, and a big furry hat. I had more clothing on than Sir Edmund Hillary when he conquered Everest. As I waddled up the hill to the mailbox, I was genuinely concerned that I would not be able to get up if I fell down. I had this vision of me flailing around like a turtle on its back.

This recent forced inactivity made me to wonder what the early pioneers of the southern Appalachians did when the weather got really bad in the winter. They lived in rough hewn log cabins with mud chinked in the cracks to keep out the wind. You know those cabins were drafty as hell. The only heat was a fire at one end of the cabin. I’m pretty sure they did not have an excess of warm clothing. I picture them sitting in front of the fire wrapped in blankets, shawls and quilts, occasionally turning like birds on a spit to warm their backsides.

What did they do for entertainment? They were lucky if they owned one book, and that was probably a family Bible. Those early cabins had one or two windows at most, and they were most likely closed in cold weather. Reading by firelight is cumbersome at best. I’m sure Mom and Dad tried to keep the kids entertained with games and stories, but I imagine there were long periods of silence when the family just stared into the fire waiting for the weather to break.

I have a lot of admiration for those early pioneers. They were tough, resilient, and independent. They had to be.

The American Chestnut Tree. On another note, I think I have found a greater purpose for my retirement. I intend to propagate the great American Chestnut Tree.

I have always loved the eastern woodlands. The hardwoods and ancient terrain of the Appalachians speak to me more than the spruce and fir and majestic grandeur of the Rockies.

When the first settlers crossed the Atlantic, the Eastern United States, from Canada to Florida and from the coast to the Mississippi, was one vast forest. At one time the American Chestnut was the dominant tree throughout much of this region, particularly in the Appalachian and Alleghany Mountains. It is estimated that Chestnut trees once comprised one-quarter of the trees in this area.

Growing over 100 feet tall and four feet in width and spreading its stout branches widely, the American Chestnut was highly valued by the pioneers and early settlers. Its wood was strong, straight grained and rot resistant. Its chestnuts were a valuable food source for man and animals. In Appalachia the settlers would turn their hogs out in large groves of chestnut trees to fatten them for slaughter.

The American Chestnut reigned supreme until the early 1900’s when it succumbed to chestnut blight, perhaps the first of many dangerous imports from China. The billions of chestnut trees died. Today there are no great groves of the American Chestnut. A few mature trees survive in isolated places, their locations secret or protected.

Even now, almost 100 years after they were decimated by the blight, you can find old chestnut stumps clinging to life. Young chestnut shoots grow from their roots, but they wither and die from the blight when they reach a few years of age. Many years ago Meredith and I hiked into the Great Smokey Mountains for eight days to find one of these old patriarchs. In a remote corner of the park we came across a large stump from which sprouted several young trees, perhaps seven or eight feet tall. We could tell it was an American Chestnut from its characteristic large saw-toothed leaves. I know this may sound cheesy and melodramatic, but I was thrilled as if I had met one of my childhood heroes.

Now there is hope for this once great tree. For years scientists have been trying to beat the fungus that causes the blight. They have been attacking it on several fronts. One way is by interbreeding the American Chestnut with the Chinese Chestnut to create a tree resistant to the blight. They have now achieved a tree that is 94 percent American Chestnut.

Another way is to attack the fungus itself. Scientists have developed a vaccine that has had some success. Young trees are inoculated with the vaccine, and many of them have grown past the stage when they should have succumbed to the blight. The hope is that these trees will pass their resistance on.

Other scientists are decoding the American Chestnut tree genome in hopes of finding clues on how to defeat the blight.

There are a number of organizations supporting these efforts, the most prominent of which is the American Chestnut Foundation (ACF). The ACF, in league with the United States Department of Agriculture, has long range plans to repopulate the American Chestnut by planting them on the hundred thousands of acres of strip mined land that exists in southern Appalachia. As it turns out, the American Chestnut is particularly suited to growing on the marginal soil left by old strip mining operations.

You can now purchase young disease resistant trees. The great thing about the American Chestnut is that it is grows quickly and starts to develop its seeds, the proverbial chestnut, at four or five years of age. These seeds can be used to grow more trees.

I have taken it as a mission of my life to assist in these efforts to bring back the American Chestnut. I intend to purchase a handful of trees and plant them on my property. When they start to bear seeds, I will grow them in pots and donate them to local citizens and organizations interested in growing one of these proud denizens of the old eastern forest.

Two thousand years ago, the Roman, Caecilius Statius, said, "He plants trees to benefit another generation." I plan to do my part.