Reduce unnecessary machine travel.
That mattered on small woodlots where landowners cared more about soil and residual trees than maximum production.
Hannah learned to plan trails.
Use snatch blocks.
Winch around sensitive areas.
Work frozen ground when possible.
Carry mats where necessary.
She took a Wisconsin logger safety course.
First aid.
Game of Logging chainsaw training.
Insurance nearly made her quit.
Commercial liability.
Equipment coverage.
Workers compensation unnecessary while she worked alone, but she planned for it.
Insurance agent asked:
“Age of machine?”
“Thirty-eight years.”
Pause.
“Excuse me?”
She got coverage.
Expensive.
She added cost per machine hour.
That notebook became more important than the machine.
Fuel.
Repairs.
Maintenance.
Grease.
Cable.
Chains.
Insurance.
Transport.
Labor.
Gross job revenue.
Wood sale revenue.
Downtime.
Miles.
Productive hours.
Idle hours.
Every time someone said the old skidder was cheap, Hannah corrected them.
Purchase was cheap.
Operation was not free.
That distinction saved her.
By the end of the first full year, she knew the 648 cost approximately $41 per productive hour to operate before her labor and transport, assuming no catastrophic repair.
Fuel was the largest variable.
Repairs next.
The number was not perfect.
It was useful.
She charged based on jobs, not hourly machine time, but cost knowledge told her which jobs to reject.
She rejected more than people expected.
One landowner wanted fifteen acres clear-cut on wet ground in April.
“No.”
“You need work.”
“I need profitable work.”
“I’m paying.”
“You’re paying less than what rut repair will cost me.”
He hired someone else.
Their machine sank.
Hannah did not celebrate.
She did photograph the ruts.
For educational purposes.
In July, she bought her first major attachment upgrade.
Not electronic.
Not glamorous.
A used logging arch and improved chokers.
$2,800.
Mark stared.
“You spent more on accessories than the machine.”
“Yes.”
“That feels wrong.”
“It earns.”
“Still.”
The arch reduced drag.
Logs stayed cleaner.
Less soil disturbance.
Fuel use improved slightly.
Hannah documented it.
Dale Bishop saw the setup at a timber sale.
He laughed.
“Putting lipstick on a pig?”
Hannah looked at his machine.
A nearly new grapple skidder.
Cab air conditioning.
LED work lights.
Enormous tires.
Beautiful equipment.
“Pig has no payment.”
Dale pointed.
“Pig also has no air conditioning.”
Hannah looked toward her open cab window.
“That part hurts.”
He laughed.
Their relationship became less hostile over time.
Not friendly.
Competitive.
Dale had started logging with his father at seventeen.