This story is part of Rethinking Resilience, a BPR and Grist series that explores the tools, skills and networks helping Western North Carolina prepare for future disasters.
The day after Hurricane Helene made landfall, Shelby Treichler was determined to make it to the Asheville Tool Library. Electricity was already out and she knew the tool library, where she works as an operations coordinator, had a solar panel setup that could be crucial in the days to come. There was just one problem: a tree had fallen in the road, blocking the only exit from her neighborhood in Weaverville.
“I didn't think to bring my tools home with me. Like, none of us thought to be on that level prepared,” she said. “So, I go out and all I've got in my truck is a hand saw and I'm like, ‘Well, I can at least get some of these big branches off and try to clear one lane.’"
Then, out of nowhere, a man in sandals appeared, chainsaw in tow. He jumped out of his truck and started bucking the tree. A few minutes later, he drove off and Treichler was left in tears by the experience.
“I was like, ‘This is community. This is beautiful,’” she said. "The guy just got back in the truck and drove away. Like, we all barely exchanged three words except for just like, ‘This is crazy, huh?’"
What Treichler experienced was a familiar part of Western North Carolina’s storm response. In the immediate days after Helene, many towns were cut off from the outside world, and these unofficial chainsaw brigades, manned largely by volunteers, stepped up to clean the mess of fallen trees and restore road access. In the words of local poet Gerald Smith, “The sweet, sweet sound of chainsaws “ left an impact on Hurricane Helene survivors – and inspired a new wave of residents to learn how to use them.
Quetzal Jordan, founder of Skills Academy for Women, has led more than 500 people through chainsaw safety workshops since Helene. She’s got another workshop planned for this November. A longtime power tool evangelist, Jordan leapt at the chance to train a new generation of chainsaw operators, who are now realizing the important role these tools play in disaster response.
“I have seen a huge uptick of people interested,” Jordan said. “I've taught people anywhere from 18 to 75 how to use a chainsaw, all across the board. And especially the folks who are older, I feel like they have the most transformative experience.”
North Carolina State and McDowell Technical Community College has also offered classes in the months since Helene. Sarah Seiler, a 53-year-old resident of Saluda, enrolled in a class organized by McDowell and held in the Pisgah National Forest, a site where Helene downed many, many trees.
Decked out in bright orange chaps, safety goggles, gloves and boots, Seiler learned the different kinds of chainsaw cuts, when to use them and how to factor safety into every chop. Seiler, who lives on 40 acres, said she’s now using her newfound skills to take care of the trails on her property.
“It's really nice to know you can take care of yourself, without having to call on for help, especially if there is no help for a while,” she said.
These chainsaw classes are one piece of a larger movement in Western North Carolina that considers tools a form of climate resilience.
The WNC Repair Cafe, which teaches people how to fix and maintain their power tools, built a mobile repair unit after Helene, complete with solar panels and common items used for repairing generators and chainsaws. The idea is that the next time a disaster comes around, the vehicle can show up where it’s needed to repair power tools and other survival items.
And the Asheville Tool Library, where Treichler works, rents out more than 4,000 tools, from saws and shovels to generators and megaphones. While they’re unable to rent out chainsaws to members for insurance reasons, they routinely host skill-building workshops, and keep a fleet of chainsaws on hand for emergencies.
“We were doing this work before and resiliency was kind of in all of our minds, but I think, like most people who are affected by Hurricane Helene, it's taken on a very different meaning now and a very different sense of urgency and importance,” Treichler said. “It makes sense now to always keep that in mind, how we're looking forward to the inevitability of more events happening like that.”
