It was one of the coldest days of the year yet on the westerly exposed hillside of the old Barret Hill Farm in Union, Maine. The ‘polar vortex’ everyone was talking about meant you didn’t stop moving unless you wanted frozen toes. A some woolen long johns and a pair of Arborwear pants meant we would be warm without sacrificing mobility. The farm had been there since the 1790’s, and the old Sugar Maple had been there since 100 years after that, but her time was through and we were there to speed the process. We fought the cold, we fought the wind, we fought a 4′ diameter trunk studded with chains, grommets and assorted Farm tackle, and we triumphed. Here is a photo taken at sunset at the end of day 1.