“Chris Buck” San Francisco Arborist

I asked all of the subjects of the Chris Buck’s Chris Bucks series to write a story from their life. Here is the one from Chris Buck of San Francisco.

I am the Urban Forestry Inspector for San Francisco’s Bureau of Urban Forestry. One of my first jobs working with trees was with California’s main electric utility company, PG&E. My job was to inspect all the trees near the power lines and make pruning recommendations based on the growth habit of each tree species and enter it into my handheld computer. I also evaluated the hazard potential of each tree, to avoid having a tree fall, take out the lines and start a forest fire.

Half the year I worked in the backyards of the wealthiest Silicon Valley suburbs. The rest of the year it was off to the woods.

I lived in the City but drove the company jeep an hour south each day into the redwood forests of San Mateo County. There were work days when once I left my jeep at the side of the road and entered the forest I might not see another person the entire day. I’d pack my lunch and water bottles into my orange forester’s vest. Orange for safety – safety from hunters and pot farmers.

One day on a huge ranch I followed the power lines from an open farm area into the woods. Just inside the woods I heard an animal groaning. I didn’t know if it was a bear or mountain lion. I didn’t want to get mauled but the sound was coming from an area directly underneath the power lines. I approached very slowly, taking cover behind small oak trees as I crept closer. Between a couple of bushes and up against a barbed-wire fence was a cow, trying to give birth to its calf. I kneeled down and saw the calf was dead and probably had been stuck halfway the entire night. The cow was lying on its side groaning.

It took me 30 minutes to find anyone on this huge ranch. On a dirt road through an open field an empty pickup truck blocked my path. When I got out of my jeep I found a man nearby with a shotgun and handlebar mustache scanning for coyotes or mountain lions. I told him about the cow. He was a neighbor and together we found a few farm hands and hurried back into the edge of the woods to save the cow.

I thought it would be an easy pull to get the calf free of its mom.  But as the four of us gently pulled on the rope we had knotted around the heels of the calf, I began envisioning an explosive exit of calf and cow birth. When we took a break, I positioned myself in back. The four of us couldn’t pull the calf free. Sweating and panting, we gave up our manual efforts and turned to the jeep. We tied off the rope to my bumper and only after several attempts did it work.

The failed birth wasn’t messy but I do remember the man with the special mustache dry-wretching off behind an oak tree. They placed some hay under the mother’s head and tried to give it water. I had to move on, keep inspecting trees near the power lines, further into the woods. The man with the shotgun said he’d have to put her down if she wasn’t able to stand up on her own. Back in the woods, I was tense all afternoon. I was afraid of being startled by the shotgun blast.