Pick a site for a clearing, an easy transition from road to our property, where the ditch is minimum and an incline offers good drainage. Start about fifty feet in --work toward the road, slithering through brush, flailing, hacking, hauling.
Soon apparent:
1) though the temperature was ten degrees above zero, sweat oozed;
2) my tools weren't very competent, nor was I;
3) sore, aching muscles tomorrow.
Merilee tried the hatchet with the aplomb of the inexpert. An exuberant backstroke bonged her head. She curled up in the car with her dolly and a book.
While nothing is more satisfying than a clean productive ax stroke, my blade rather had a knack of glancing off, whanging into boulders lurking smugly beneath the snow. At first I winced, grunting, and said,
"Ouch!"
Later stronger expletives offered irrational but needful relief
... revenge!