Wood was wet. I asked at least twice before he came, Are you certain this is seasoned and dry birch?
Yes yes yes.
When he finally arrived at ~6:30 I walked outside, shook his hand and looked in the back of his truck. Crap. I pushed my forefinger into the rotted center of a 12″ round and just looked at him. “Dude, this will not burn. It’s neither seasoned nor dry.” I pointed to other pieces just like it.
It sucked that he had to come this far to learn this, plus having to deal with the hassle of a broken down trailer, which he’ll likely have to leave roadside until Monday, the first chance he’ll have to find a spare tire. Then drive back to replace the tire and drive back home again. I felt his pain and gave him $40.00 for gas.
Oh well, dinner out and wine with friends was fun, finished off with a dip in the hot tub.
Back to Anchorage tonight.