THE APPLE TREE 1

 This is the apple tree before trimming the upper trunks. The broken tree on the right is a distant wild cherry, and as the cambium (the life-giving veins of the tree that makes up the inner bark) of the cherry is still intact, the broken trunk still produces new branches, so I haven't cut it at the break. Not only that, it also produces the only harvestable wild cherries on the property, as all my other cherry trees are too tall to reach. Wild cherries are tiny and extremely tart but make great wine. I could possibly get enough from this tree to make a glassful!

Back to the Apple.

The Apple Tree has only produced apples once; in 2015, after the harshest winter seen in decades. But then, every apple tree in the state went crazy that year.

Two years ago, there were no apples in Connecticut; a late freeze killed all the flowers in April.

As can be seen here, the apple tree at Standish Farm hasn't been trimmed in a very, very long time. That makes it unlikely to produce apples. All top growth and no trimming equals no apples.

Sure, I'd get one or two gnarled little goiters that fall off the tree before growing no more than two inches across, but that's about it.

So I studied about old apple trees, and found that they need to be kept close to the ground, and not allowed to grow high. This one was more than twice the height it should have been.

Five yers ago I realized this, saying "As soon as I have the refinanace done, I'm going to rent a man-lift and top that tree!"

It's been here for over two hundred years. And it is twisted, convoluted, and pocked with thousands of sapsucker holes. But it lives on.

So the refi is done, I'm unemployed, and spring is here. Apples like this need topping in early April or late March.

It wa time.

But I had no man-lift. I had no money.

Ah, but I gots a brai-un.

So I went out to look at it from many different angles. And I figured out how to do it.

I just needed to make sure doing it didn't kill me.

Two huge branches were actually extensions of the trunk, and had been going vertical for some time, probably since the early 20th century. The biggest one, shown here, was my chosen subject.

One must not cut too much from an old apple tree; one-third the height of the entire tree in a single cutting is the recommended amount. It can be repeated the next year.

There was another branch that stretched to the sky and leaned a bit east, but could I do that as well?

Oh, hell, this one would probably kill me...

Not much of a pic on such a cloudy day, but keep reading as I expound on the cut.

Having no man-lift, I knew that climbing a ladder in such an unstable place would be unsafe, and doing so with my twenty-inch Stihl Chain Saw was...unwise. What was a poor adventurer to do?

Develop a plan, of course, using what he's got!

And I had a lot of guts, ingenuity, ladders, and an electric  pole saw with an 8-inch chain bar; the pole extended almost nine feet.

I had me a play-un!

So I set a ladder in a safe, flat place and began to cut. I cut a little at a time and watched the Big Branch. I had to make sure it didn't HINGE and swing down to knock me off the ladder. That wouldn't be good. So I cut, then shook the tree, then cut and shook the tree.

Shakin' the tree here, Boss!

This split branch was my perch, or at least upon that which I rested my ladder. The right-tilting branch in the center of the pic would be my next victim. More on the split branch as we go along.

The Split Branch is how you want your apple tree to grow; horizontal or on an angle. The fruit will weigh down the branch, and can be gathered easily. Upright branches rob the tree of nutrients that are better for lower branches. This branch would need extra support. I knew this in 2012 when I first saw the tree, and I knew it would need it this year or I'd lose it. And that it would need it RIGHT soon, as it would soon be laden with heavy leaves that would make it sway in the wind.

More on that later.

As I set the ladders, I could only look at the Giant Trash Pile in the 18th century animal pens and growl. "Maybe next year I can get a front end loader and a dumpster to remove this blight..."

But I say that every year. I never have the money, and my bank account this year was the thinnest so far.

So I'd do as I've done for five years; let the Giant Briar grow over the Izbicki Trash Mountain and hope for better times next year.

Setting up the ladder

My chosen weapons of Branch Removal.

Extendable pole saw, a child's compound bow, a sumac branch, and.....

a roll of nylon twine?

What could I possibly do with these?

I continued to cut on the upward trunk. A little at a time, watching the trunk all the while...

Cut cut cut, climb down, shake the tree...

Shakin' it boss!

It wasn't just a branch, it was HALF the tree! Well, a third, anyway. Rope is in place. How did it get there?

Lemme 'splain..

Now, people, I ain't stupid. I did this for three days and knew the tree was perty orn'rey. It WANTED to kill me. So I bought a little insurance with the only money I had.

My Brain Trust.

If I tied a good, thick rope to the branch, er, trunk, and applied pressure, it COULDN'T  turn on a hinge to kill me!

Thus the bow, sumac branch (I have no arrows) and the yellow twine.

Are yew beginnin' to git it naow?

Okay, I'll splain it to you further.

I trimmed the small branches around the point I wanted to put my rope and shot a sumac branch through the gap and over an upper section of the trunk I wanted to remove. I couldn't reach it, had no arrow, but I did have the tiny compound bow. So I MADE an arrow from a very light and straight sumac sapling and tied the mason's twine to it, leaving an extra long section loose. Then I played Robin Hood and tried to shoot the branch through the gap and over the trunk. The first two attempts were failures, but the last worked. I untied the sumac branch/arrow and tied the nylon twine to a long rope, which I pulled over the trunk, tied a bowline in the end (a loop, threaded it with itself), and pulled it tight. Putting it through the pulley chained to the angled tree trunk nearby, I had enough pressure on the trunk to make sure it wouldn't suddenly crack while I sawed, swinging back down on me, knocking me off the ladder and ruining my day.

The cut is just below the intersection of the hemlock in the background and the trunk in the center of the pic.

The rope pulled tight, I again ascended the ladder and continued to cut. I did this several times, each time I descended, I yanked on the rope to test the cut so as not to have it come down catastrophically. Eventually I cut enough so that when I pulled on the rope, I heard it crack. I then began a pull-hard-and-let-it-go-and-repeat system, swinging and swaying. It began to crack, then crack more, and eventually...

It came down perfectly, not only missing my ladder (I was on the other side of the tree almost forty feet away), but missing all the lower branches I wanted to save. It worked as just as I had planned.

Not a real clean cut, but it can be sculpted. I considered taking the rest down (I should remove about ten more feet), but one third is as much as is recommended to be removed in one year. Besides, I realized I could use this trunk to help support the cracked branch below, which will be my next big task. It should be done before the tree leafs out fully. More on that in a later post.

St. George slays the dragon!

This is on the second day, as the Masters had begun and I had to go inside after slaying the dragon the day before. I set up the extension ladder on a branch of the tree and went to work on the other big branch. It looks like I'm going to saw the branch the ladder is on, but I'm actually cutting almost eight feet away, and the ladder is quite stable, laying flat on one branch while leaning slightly on an upward branch. The branch I wanted to cut was not as thick as the big trunk I'd already cut, but it was directly above all the branches I wanted to save. Apple branches are very supple and will bend a LOT before breaking, but I didn't want to harm them at all, as they were loaded with new buds ready to flower.

I must admit that this whole thing might be an exercise in futility; this tree has only once given me apples in five years. But I have never sprayed it or trimmed it properly, and it may take a few years, but I'll get a crop eventually. But not if I don't cut these branches.

So for this situation, I cut each branch individually so as not to harm the branches below.

Especially the crooked one closest to the ground.

It took a while, and only once did my saw bar get pinched. I left it dangling, and growling at my stupidity, went and got a sixteen-foot 1x, with which I pushed on the branch until it let go the pole saw, which dropped to the ground and impaled itself, spear-like, blade deep in the soft ground. I pulled it out, wiped it off, and went back to work.

The final result. The trunk will remain this way until next year, when I'll reduce it by another ten feet. In the meantime, I have other work to do to save this ancient tree. More on that in another post. It'll be soon; I'm racing the clock.