The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-10-26
CHANGES FOUND
 IN LOGGING CAMP
Modern Inventions Re move Much Of Old-Time
 Romance


 was familiar with the methods employed in the logging camps and mills of the forest sections of Michigan and Wiscon- sin, will find much of interest if he chances to revisit those sections and takes pains to observe the customs now followed. In the earlier period, as is well known, the logging camps were busy only in winter writes F. l.. F. in the Christian Science Monitor. With . the first fall of snow, men and teams began the long trek. from remote rail- way stations and from the farms where the ordinary seasonal work had been finished.
 Far in the forest, where low-roofed camps and stables had already been built, the workers remained for the long and somewhat dreary months of the northern winter. With the advent of spring, when the melting snows filled the streams and rivers to overflowing, all departed except the few chosen to ''drive" the logs to the mills or to the booms where they were assembled ac- cording to their markings and rafted farther down the river to be sawed into lumber.
 This was in the days when white pine timber was so plentiful in those regions that it seemed it could never be ex- hausted. Now, except for occasional sparse forests of virgin pine, there re- main for the mills only the maple, oak and hemlock passed by when the de- mand was only for pine. With changed conditions there have come new meth 0ds. Now, in summer as well as in winter, the choppers and sawyers are busy cutting and sending to the mills the logs which remain.
 Railroad Replaces Tote Road.
 There is much to interest and in- struct one who was once familiar with conditions in the pineries in the mod ern camp. Where once ran the fndefini- tely marked "tote roadv and the broad CT path followed by the loggers' sleighs, there now winds meandering standard gauge railroad over which the train loads of<logs are transported to the mill, perhaps ten miles from the 'cut-' ing" Along this unballasted track one rides, with the superintendent of the mill and camps and. a half dozen companions, while clinging somewhat precariously to hand railing on motorized flat car, of size comparable to that of an old-time hand car.
 From the mill, where the motor cars are parked, to the woods camp where men are cutting and loading the logs, it is said to be eight miles. The super intendent, who also boasts the title of mayor of his town of three or four hundred people who are employees of the mill and camp, is asked if he has not mistaken the distance through some miscalcVlation. Eight miles by highway in a smooth-running motor car may be covered much more quickly and far more easily.
 Once in the camp, all discomfort is forgotten. There, instead of the sQuatty log huts once the habitat of the loggers, are found comfortable frame houses, mounted on car trucks, all on rails, ready to be moved by locomotives as oc- sion or necessity requires. The stagies are similarly constructed.
 Camp Follows Timber Line.
 Through the 'bunk" cars, all scrupu- Iously clean, and into the dining" car and kitchen car, both even mere spot. less, the visitors go, to be seated at last at tables laden with the meal provided at an hours notice by the camp chef and his assistant. The presiding artist is not called chef in the parlance of the woods. He is a plain cook, and his assistants are as simply designated. But just as the foreman of the camp crew is the undisputed dictator in his realm, so the camp cook rules without question the domain embraced within the terri tory of the kitchen and the dinning quarters.
 From the camp to the scene of actual logging operations is but a short dis tance. As the timber line recedes the camp follows an improvised railway being provided, at no great cost. In the woods, as in the mills, on the farms, and everywhere, machinery. and mechanical devices are provided to minimize, as. far as possible, the labor to be performed by man power.
 It is sultry in the woods as the trav- elers stand by while sawyers fell a low Sring hemlock, cut it into proper legths and surrender the logs to the driver of the "skid" team, who deftly transfers them to the landing adjoining the rail- way. Then, while one waits, loading cranes, mounted on a separate car, are put in place, flat cars are ranged in position and the logs which an hour be- fore were trees are on their way to the mill. There are no delays, no waiting for winter SHOWS to melt and float the timber a hundred or more miles from the woods to the river mills. The whole paOSSSS 0SSAAAS SO SPSA hpoVAulc cAA4- ciency.
 Miles Of Denudedi Land.
 From the still uncomfortable seat on the tram car as one winds his unhurried way back to the mill town he is n a mood to observe somewhat more throughtfully the surroundings. As far as the eye can see from the vantage point of the hills and knolls to which the puffing 1-cylinder motor carries it's load, nothing is visible but section after section of denuded forest lands, with a few struggling trees too young to at- tract the chopper, and millions of charred stumps which tell the story of the days when pine land specuIators bought millions of acres in thos. sec tions almost for song.
 It is simple story, though it is one that we of today do not like to tell. A century hence, or perhaps less, these barren acres may be turned into pro- ductiVe farms. Perhaps some way may be found to restore vast areas of the lands to their former glory as forests. But 1t is a scene of desOlation now. Despite the vigilance of lumbermen and wardens it seems difficult to prevent the occasional sweeping of these waste places by fires which destroy or retard whatever growth of young trees may have taken place.
 Rising knoll one catches sight of a young deer scamping away in the near distance. The animal is less afraid than curious. As the rumbling car rounds curve and disappears, the deer is seen to halt and turn with inquiring