The taster session was one of six that was run around the United Kingdom this year to not only raise the profile of what organisers call “the original extreme sport”, but also to actively scout out any talented newbies who could potentially be trained into Team GB STIHL Timbersports athletes.

The hopefuls had turned out from far, wide and from all walks of life. The first few I met were all in the forestry industry, had extensive chainsaw experience and came equipped with their own protective gear, but I soon got chatting to IT consultants, dentists, NHS staff and teachers who like me had never started a chainsaw before. This comforted me slightly, until I asked one chap if he had ever tried anything like this before and he responded: “No, but I can lift a 30kg kettlebell up above my head.” I wasn’t sure to what extent this skill would actually help, but it’s a daunting answer to receive to any question.

Nevertheless, our mentors for the day insisted that Timbersports was no more about strength than it was about forestry experience. It was all in the technique.

“It’s actually an advantage that you’re not in forestry,” told Global Sports Director, 10-time British Champion and Timbersports trainer Spike Milton. “It’s great for us to be able to grab people who have never had anything to do with it because they’ve got no bad habits, so we can mould them the right way.

Now, while I understood the urgency needed to clock a credible time, my concerns were admittedly elsewhere. And they were threefold:

• Firstly, I needed to work out how to turn on and off a chainsaw without chopping off my legs.
• Secondly, I needed to work out the correct technique for guiding it through the wood without the saw recoiling and chopping off my legs.
• And finally, I needed to work out how to put all of this together and take two circles of wood off a log in roughly 10 seconds. Ideally without chopping off my legs.

Seeing my rather blatant concern, manifested in the form of two unblinking eyes, Taff correctly guessed the source of my apprehension and got the chainsaw in my hands.

Sure enough, handling it was no bother, and as soon as I was comfortable with the weight of the tool – and my scan for zombies in the area had unfortunately produced no results – I turned my eye to the log. A swift line through the middle, one cookie swiftly cut and I was even drawing some reserved praise from Taff himself.

“That’s not bad. Pretty smooth,” he said, “considering you’ve never used a chainsaw before.”

“Now I’m happy!” declares Taff. And I am too. I could get used to this chainsaw lark. It’s awfully addictive and the progress feels quick, but alas, a racing axe, the Underhand Chop and Spike Milton were waiting in the next room. And it’s a bit creepy to be addicted to chainsawing, anyway.

The Underhand Chop

The first thing Spike does is hook us up with safety gear – namely a pair of metal shin guards and shoe-covers. Think of a Stormtrooper who, having forgotten a Halloween costume, decided to spray-paint themselves silver and claim they were the tin man from the Wizard of Oz and you’re not too far off the look.

The gear is slightly awkward to walk in as well, but Spike explains that back in the day he once saw a man slice off all five of his toes with one swing of the axe, and all of a sudden the protection feels perfectly comfortable.

We chop some footholes onto our log to get started, then mark with a crayon the exact place where we want our axe to strike, with Spike going into excruciating detail about the mathematics and angles required to get through the thing quickly. Luckily, my partner understood both Spike and high school maths better than I did – Pythagoras lost it after his third album in my opinion – and was able to sort out our log for both of us.

Next thing Spike got on his wood to show us how it’s done, making it look insufferably easy while also telling us it wasn’t one of his better efforts. A few practise swings later we’re standing on the log ourselves throwing the razor sharp blade down at the drawn on lines.

My first few hits are deadly accurate – something I’m particularly pleased about given both the challenge of mastering Spike’s step-by-step technique and the fact that the top marks on our log are probably about one centimetre away from my armoured foot.

It’s tiring work though, and after a while I start missing the mark with growing consistency. Eventually one off-target strike hits my giant metal feet square on, securing the clumsy shoe guards a safe spot in my good books.

“It’s the adrenaline,” says Spike of my inaccuracies. I counter: “I think it’s more the four cups of coffee,” but, shockingly, the 10-time British champion, and not the newbie, is right. I take a 30 second break and watch as my hand shakes like a morning alarm clock.

Back on the log and with an emphasis on deep, controlled breaths, my accuracy returns. It’s taking a lot longer than Spike, but I’m through the log in the end and reaping the benefits of a much, much-needed breather.

Spike got through his demonstrative log in about 30 seconds, including time taken to give us instructions on how to do exactly that. The world record is 13 seconds. My attempt lasted roughly five minutes. It’s the taking part that counts. Onwards.

The Single Buck

Rob Owens has retired from the STIHL Timbersports series but still competes – and wins – along with his son in other competitions.

He’s explaining to us how to cut a cookie off a log with a giant two-metre cross-cut saw. I certainly need the guidance. The thing is twice my height, wouldn’t look out of place on the set of ‘Saw 32’ (or whatever number the franchise is on these days) and I have no idea where to even start trying to pick it up.

The Single Buck is all about getting into a rhythm and getting your entire body power behind the saw. The cross-cut saw is so damn long that with your feet rooted for power and balance, you have to punch your arms as far as they can go to make the most of your movement, and then pull it back across your body to the same extent. This is incredibly tiring. Never underestimate how tiring this is.

Just when you think you’re halfway through the wood, you realise that even if that is true, it only means you have 50% more wood to saw through, and you’ve just reached the thickest part of the log.

It really is all about rhythm though, and the better your rhythm, the easier it is. My second attempt was significantly less tiring than my first and my third and final attempt was better yet. I fly through the thing in about 45-60 seconds. Of course, the record is 10 seconds, but the profanities I utter upon hearing this should tell you everything you need to know about that.

And thus, my day of auditions for the STIHL Timbersports X-Factor had come to a close. I’d chopped wood with a chainsaw, an axe and an unreasonably large, soul-draining cross-cut saw. And all in mediocre time, too. I had also managed to get away without chopping my legs off; a success story in my books.

The next step is for the coaches to review the talent they saw on the day, and indeed at the other training camps around the country, and decide who they want to take through to the next round of trials for further training.

I, of course, will be waiting anxiously by my phone.

You can see STIHL Timbersports in action at the 2017 British Championship, which will take place at ‘BBC Countryfile Live’, Blenheim Palace, Woodstock, Oxfordshire, OX20 1PP on Saturday 5/6 August 2017. Tickets are on sale now.

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