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When I was a boy in southeastern Montana, we heated and old drafty farmhouse with single panes with one freestanding wood stove. There was a stand of timber nearby, and as the oldest boy I was my father's woodcutting helper. This mean that he cut the standing timber, sized it into about three foot long sections and I helped load it into the truck. Back at the house, he would buck them into rounds the right length for the stove. My job was to split and stack. There was ponderosa pine, cottonwood (nasty stuff to burn) and a couple of other species too. They wouldn't do for my pop. He had a thing for burning only ash. That stuff was the hardest, knottiest, stringiest wood I have ever encountered. It burned long and hot when properly seasoned, I remember many many hours spent wrestling that stuff. One round I lost the woodsman's axe, splitting maul and splitting wedge in the same chunk. I had to ask my father for another wedge to finish the job. What a lot of work! Now I help my in-laws, they rent a hydraulic splitter once a year and I love them for that!