Limits.

It seems nowadays there is a tool and a piece of gear for everything. And then the combinations of those tools are endless as well, so we're left with this limitless web of gear and tool combinations that sometimes almost seems silly. I look down at my saddle, I feel it's weight and I am saddedned as it struggles to slide off my hips, burdened by all of the slings and pulleys and carabiners that I 'may' need at some point throughout a climbing operation. And maybe even more than that, it just looks cool, so we load it up for the photo op.
I think I once heard the phrase, "the more you know the less you need." Well, I'd argue that the more I know, the more I want, and I'm sure there's many climbing arborists out there that would agree with me.
I'm starting my week off with a good friend of mine who has a company out of town, two hours south of my home base. We have family in the area, so it works out that my wife and I load up the little Honda Civic with the baby and the astounding amount of non-related tree gear that he needs, and I get to save a very small space in the trunk for my tree gear.
This causes me a great deal of anxiety, because I really need to shave the pounds, and I'm typically a heavyweight when in comes to packing. Although I know the loose scope of work, (most likely I'll be setting chokers for a crane assisted removal) my mind wanders to all of the lovely kit I own, and my heart breaks when I can't fit those things in the trunk space.
I didn't bring gaffs, and although they are nice to have in removal scenarios, I hate them. Let me stress that again, I hate climbing with gaffs on. Maybe I'm the only person in the world that would show up to a crane job without gaffs, but because I left them behind, this eases some the anxiety for me. So I'm a few pounds lighter already.
I typically keep two 150' hanks of rope in my climb bag, so I took one hank out and left that in my work truck as well. Immediately, the tremors of worry creep back in, "what if a need to double crotch a massive limb walk?" More with less, right?
I'm typically good for one stuck throwball in a typical morning, so I'm always rolling with two cubes, and I'll never pass up the opportunity to double-bag a crotch. But remember, I need to limit myself and show some type of self control, so I slowly slip one cube into my climb bag and make amends with that.
Finally, my leg mounted hand saw slides in and my kask helmet fully equipped with my Sena communication system goes in last. On my saddle there is my lanyard package, rope runner, ascenders and two slings each equipped with carabiners. Oh yea, and my topheld chainsaw with gas and oil in a separate bin.
In all reality, I know this gear will be sufficient. Hell, I may not even use the slings. but I'm still feeling like I'm limited in the arsenal I've brought simply because I've gone from having an entire utility box filled with tree gear to a small 3'x2' trunk space to determine my performance as a contractor.
Limiting oneself can be beneficial in many ways. Personally, I sometimes build uneccessary dependencies on gear that may be in many situations wasteful and redundant. Sure, in one instance in can be a deal breaker, but then I'll find myself forcing it into other applications where it just slows down the process and confuses things. Keep it simple, stupid, right? This time, I only have what I need, and I may not even have a few things that I need. Although this causes a bit of worry at first, I feel a lot better than I did originally, as if there has been a huge weight lifted from my saddle. Then again, it's the morning of the job, I haven't even seen the tree yet and I'm sure that on the drive in that anxiety will somehow manage to perspire from my brow until the saw dust soaks it up.