After they left for the day I snuck up there and cut the two ends and dragged what I could from under the fallen trees.
Six weeks later the gang finished a successful forest harvest, finally allowing me to start rebuilding infrastructure so I could try to farm properly again.
I bought 100 metres of 40mm pipe and unrolled it through the trash, connected it and could once again get water up into my hills.
We now move to Labour weekend.
I watched with interest a fellow burning his newly harvested forestry slash nearby. The wind got up unexpectedly and the next thing you know there were about eight fire engines, scores of firefighters and a helicopter flying buckets of water.
I’d been poised to burn my own block but now became somewhat indecisive whether it was such a good idea.
Two days later on Labour Monday, it was dead still, warm and not a hint of wind in the forecast with a huge high with wide isobars sitting over us.
Son three who was visiting from Auckland and I went up into the hills laden with matches to see how one of the little valleys would go.
We started from the top, which had several metres of green grass before the brand new fence and green grass beyond. We lit the dry needles and worked our way down the hill.
It was quite spectacular and a very good burn as the fires would move up the slope to the trash that was already burnt or burning.
The stumps just singed and even the pine cones charred but didn’t completely burn out so is was more controlled than my wildest expectations.
Heartened, we moved into the other two valleys but kept well away from the skid sites where there were mountains of slash heaps that would burn for weeks or months and going into the summer would not be a good idea.
When we got to the pipe we had such good control and confidence in our fire lighting, instead of rolling it up, we left that area unburnt.
We were at the house having a drink as it was hot work and a firefighter arrived given the smoke was visible to much of Central Hawke’s Bay. I reassured her all was under control and went so far as to ask if I could borrow some matches.
When we returned to the dying fires a very slight wind change had ensured that the new pipe was now a molten mess.
Twelve days later I was on that slope again but the good news was that I needed only 50 metres of new pipe as we’d saved quite a bit by extracting the ends from the fire but now where there were once no couplings I was up to three.
It was a hot, still day with absolutely no sign of smoke as the fire had burnt out within a day of our successful burn, making replanting a much easier affair next winter.
That weekend we had a nasty windstorm and I was somewhat surprised to see a bit of smoke up in the hills. On closer inspection I discovered the only area on fire was the very same slope with the now burning again pipe.
I salvaged what I could but was now losing my sense of humour. The fire quickly burnt out but it was a good lesson in how a hidden ember can lie dormant for nearly two weeks waiting for its chance.
This time I had to buy 100 metres of pipe again but the good news is that I saved my three fittings and now needed only two.
What is now my fourth section of pipe in this area is performing its duties as expected and unless a tree planter slices it with his spade should remain unmolested for 30 years until the next forest harvest.
