The Lumberjack World Championships
Shanty boys and lumberjills hot-saw and do the underhand chop at the Olympics of the Forest.
A is for axes, you very well know, B is the boys who can swing them also
Sean Yokoyama is probably the best speed climber in the world, apologies to Caleb Graves.
Just north of Black River Falls was where the bald eagle descended, cannonballing at the lump of deer decomposing on the shoulder of WIS 27. I screeched the car to a halt on the empty two-lane road as the bird coolly appraised me, fanning its six-foot wingspan. Tornado warnings had been issued from Milwaukee to Antigo, with four separate funnel clouds confirmed across the state; now the gray-green light of early afternoon was conspiring with the humidity and my broken AC to stupify me into a minor trance, before the bird took off like the angel of death. I’d been driving through Wisconsin for something like five hours. Once I passed Chippewa Falls, it was time for a drink. “Whaddaya want?” snorted the bartender of Cookie’s Holcombe Inn, immediately pegging me for what I was, a FIB — as in, a “Fuckin’ Illinois Bastard,” Wisconsin’s less-than-kindly nickname for their neighbors to the south who flood the state come summertime. The patrons of the packed bar had white hair and farmer’s …