It was probably around late winter of 1972 or 1973 that our grandfather cut a skidding trail through our cedar swamp in southern Ashland County so my brother and I could make some money by cutting balsam pulpwood.
He built a wooden dray that he pulled behind his Farmall H tractor. Loading and unloading was done by hand by my brother and me. That’s when I gained an appreciation for chopper mitts.
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