Type keyword(s) to search

Features

The Last Woodsmen race to blast a road through solid rock before the log barge deadline

A detailed look at how The Last Woodsmen rely on precision blasting, high-risk road building, and strict timelines to access remote timber before a critical log barge deadline
  • The Last Woodsmen (Image via Instagram/@discovery)
    The Last Woodsmen (Image via Instagram/@discovery)

    On The Last Woodsmen, the margin between progress and paralysis is often measured in feet of road. In this case, it is measured in explosives.

    With a log barge scheduled to arrive in two weeks, Jared and his crews are shown racing against time to blast a functional road through solid rock in some of the most remote terrain of the Pacific Northwest.



    Without that road, the timber cannot be reached, hauled, or loaded. The title is not metaphorical. The Last Woodsmen are literally racing to blast a road through solid rock before the log barge deadline, and every decision made in the mountains carries financial and operational consequences.

    Jared is pushing deeper into the wilderness in search of a new area rich with big timber. The timber exists, but access does not.

    As the show makes clear, working in such remote areas means building roads from scratch before any logging can begin.

    The crew needs to complete roughly half a mile of new road before fallers can enter the area, a task made more difficult by steep terrain and continuous stretches of solid rock. 

    Mechanical excavation alone will not work. Blasting becomes the only viable option. Jared says:


    “We work in such remote areas. We have to build our own roads just to get to the timber. If we don’t have road, we can’t log. So, it’s essentially everything to us. We can’t haul. We can’t do anything. So, without a road, you got nothing.”




    The Last Woodsmen and the pressure to build access fast

    High in the mountains, road builders Dave and Nick drill into rock faces and pack the holes with explosives.

    The debris created by each blast becomes the foundation for the road itself, turning destruction into construction material. Each explosion must be precisely designed. As Dave explains:


    “A shot is a design blast. It’s like just drilled holes with a specific pattern and a specific load for your situation.”


    The scale is significant. One blast alone involves approximately 400 pounds of explosives. “We’re doing anywhere from 20 to sometimes 50 bags in a shot,” Dave says. 


    “So, if you could fathom that, that’s how much destruction that these powder can do. It’s really dangerous stuff. You want to respect it. You want to make sure you follow the protocol and rules when you’re handling it.”


    Timing drives every decision. Foreman Ross, stationed at float camp after identifying a stand of giant cedars nearby, makes it clear that access dictates everything.

    Before fallers, yarders, or processors can move in, the road must be complete. If the crew moves quickly enough, the timber could add vital product to the barge arriving in two weeks. If not, the opportunity is lost. Ross says:


    “The goal is ASAP. If they hurry, the timber could add vital product to the log barge arriving in two weeks.”


    As the crew drills, loads, and clears blast sites, the pressure builds. Dave and Nick fire successive shots, then “muck out” the rubble—sorting large rocks to the edges and packing finer material into the roadbed.

    The process repeats, one blast at a time, as they inch deeper into the forest. When a pair of massive boulders proves too large for the excavator, more explosives are brought in. The narration notes:


    “Good thing Dave always keeps extra explosives on hand.”


    Time remains the constant threat. Dave says, 


    “Time’s a huge factor ’cause faster we get it done, the faster they can get in here and log. They definitely put the pressure on us.”


    Elsewhere, at Grizzly River, similar urgency unfolds. Road crews Jim and Rob work alongside drilling teams to access what may be their last stand of giant cedars before a shutdown.

    A dead-standing tree leaning toward the blast zone presents a serious hazard. Too brittle to fell by hand, it becomes part of the blast plan.

    The narration explains,


    “Dead standing trees like this one are loaded with widow makers. Notoriously brittle and too dangerous to bring down by hand.”


    Instead, explosives are used to separate the tree from its stump. Jim says, 


    “This is part of the way that we mitigate problem trees is with blasting assist.” 


    The operation is calculated and tense. Rob drills carefully into the trunk, carving windows for explosives while ensuring usable wood is not compromised. He explains, 


    “I’m not going to compromise any wood. I’m just going to try and take this rot out of here so we can get a bag in there.” 


    The blast succeeds. The tree drops cleanly across the road alignment. Jim says, 


    “It blew the front out, blew the back out, and it laid right down across the road. Perfect. It’s almost like somebody cutting this down.”


    Across both sites, the pattern remains the same. Roads determine access. Access determines whether timber moves.

    And explosives, handled with precision and restraint, become the difference between stalled operations and forward momentum. As one blast crew member puts it, 


    “Trying to get the best outcome with the least amount of violence really.”


    With the road blasted and rubble cleared, fallers are finally able to move in. The clock has not stopped, but the path forward exists.

    In The Last Woodsmen, survival is not only about cutting trees. It is about engineering access, managing risk, and racing time in places where nothing moves unless the ground itself is first broken open.



    Stay tuned for more updates. 

    TOPICS: The Last Woodsmen, The Last Woodsmen Jared Douglas