So trying out the Kestrel didn't quite go as planned last night. As soon as I got home from work I attached myself to a small tree in my yard and hung at ground level for about 10 minutes. I definitely think I will like this style of hunting so I went into the garage and shortened the bridge to about 26 inches, added a dump pouch and started playing with how to manage my ropes.
After getting that figured out I thought I would set up a large birch that is in my yard as a practice tree. There are several dead branches on this tree that I have wanted to clean up for a while. So I put on my HSS safety harness and linemans belt, grabbed my wild edge steps and my chainsaw and thought I would use the steps to climb up and cut the dead limbs out to get the tree ready.
My 8 year old son came out and handed me steps and I showed him how to attach them and then climbed up to the first level of branches, fired up the chainsaw and cut them off, as I shut off the saw I hear my son say "Dad there are bees everywhere" I look down and my feet are about three feet off the ground and right at the top of a swarm of yellow jackets. They apparently had a nest in the ground at the base of the tree and the falling limbs disturbed them.
I have a pretty severe bee allergy, and there I am basically standing on top of a bunch of p***ed off yellow jackets, attached to the tree with a linemans belt and a chainsaw hanging from my hip. My 8 year old son knowing I am allergic says "Dad, you jump down and run and I will run into the bees and try to take the stings". As heroic as that offer was, I tell him to stay back as I unhook my belt, jump down and take off running with my chainsaw bouncing behind me. Somehow I get to the other end of the yard without getting stung. My son comes over and starts looking me over for bees, there were a couple on my pants, and in the process he get stung. So we both strip off our clothes and run inside.
My wife gets home a few minutes later and sees my sons shirt in the yard, and scattered across the driveway she sees his pants, my pants, my shirt, and my HSS vest still attached to a chainsaw. She comes inside to find my son sitting in his underwear holding ice on his side where he got stung. I tell my son that him being out there to help me, along with the fact that he wasn't fooling around but, was paying attention might have just saved my life. He was beaming with pride as we went to McDonalds to get him his "Hero's Dinner".
So maybe tonight I will get to really try out the Kestrel. (On a different tree)
After getting that figured out I thought I would set up a large birch that is in my yard as a practice tree. There are several dead branches on this tree that I have wanted to clean up for a while. So I put on my HSS safety harness and linemans belt, grabbed my wild edge steps and my chainsaw and thought I would use the steps to climb up and cut the dead limbs out to get the tree ready.
My 8 year old son came out and handed me steps and I showed him how to attach them and then climbed up to the first level of branches, fired up the chainsaw and cut them off, as I shut off the saw I hear my son say "Dad there are bees everywhere" I look down and my feet are about three feet off the ground and right at the top of a swarm of yellow jackets. They apparently had a nest in the ground at the base of the tree and the falling limbs disturbed them.
I have a pretty severe bee allergy, and there I am basically standing on top of a bunch of p***ed off yellow jackets, attached to the tree with a linemans belt and a chainsaw hanging from my hip. My 8 year old son knowing I am allergic says "Dad, you jump down and run and I will run into the bees and try to take the stings". As heroic as that offer was, I tell him to stay back as I unhook my belt, jump down and take off running with my chainsaw bouncing behind me. Somehow I get to the other end of the yard without getting stung. My son comes over and starts looking me over for bees, there were a couple on my pants, and in the process he get stung. So we both strip off our clothes and run inside.
My wife gets home a few minutes later and sees my sons shirt in the yard, and scattered across the driveway she sees his pants, my pants, my shirt, and my HSS vest still attached to a chainsaw. She comes inside to find my son sitting in his underwear holding ice on his side where he got stung. I tell my son that him being out there to help me, along with the fact that he wasn't fooling around but, was paying attention might have just saved my life. He was beaming with pride as we went to McDonalds to get him his "Hero's Dinner".
So maybe tonight I will get to really try out the Kestrel. (On a different tree)
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