TOO OLD NOW....3/9/23
Our tenant up in the cabin texted yesterday that the chimney wasn't drawing properly and that wood smoke was filling the cabin. "Damn", I thought as I'm struggling to get over COVID. I knew right away what the problem was - the creosote had plugged up the spark arrestor and needed to be cleaned. I've done it many times, so without thinking about it too much, I grabbed a brush and climbed the ladder to the roof.
The power line feeding the cabin passes about 2' above the rooftop and can easily be stepped over on the way up to the ridge. The metal roof didn't seem terribly slippery so I managed to get one leg over the wire before I slipped and buried my face directly on to one of the roof ribs, hearing a crunch as my forehead hit the steel. Not only that, I was bouncing on the power line like a god-damned tightrope walker who had had too many drinks the night before. To add insult to injury, all 8 of my knuckles ended up skinned so my hands look like I went into the ring and forgot my boxing gloves.
Once I got myself off the wire, I laid there for a moment and tried to decide if I was alright, but there weren't too many stars circling overhead so I figured I was OK. I then made an immediate decision. No more climbing on the roof - those days are over. If the insulation on the wire had been compromised, I could have hung there sizzling until well done. Instead I came away with a gash in my head and an awareness that all things come to an end at some point.
The chimney sweep comes later today.