My arms still ached from the forest, so I did something I almost never do. I asked a stranger for help.

A lumberjack named Rash. I told him I was a hacker who had chopped four logs and lost a fight with the axe on every one of them.

He wrote back. Use your legs, not just your arms. Let the weight of the axe do the work while you step into the swing.

I laughed, because I have been swinging the way I type. All wrists. All hurry.

We traded a few more lines. Then, before the thread closed, he told me where to find him. Around the northern ridge, if I wanted.

Nobody here has told me where they will be before.

Next time I go to the trees, I know which way to walk.