Wood chopping champion still has the edge

Jason Wynyard and son Tai were named joint winners of the Albie Pryor Memorial Maori Sportsperson of the Year. Photo / Chris Kilford

After powering his way to 11 world titles, 130kg axeman says he’s never found a piece of wood that’s beaten him.

As a pointer towards Jason Wynyard's wood-chopping prospects, it was ill-starred.

His debut in the sport began as a 12-year-old at a lively carnival in the small rural settlement of Mamaku in the Bay of Plenty where he fell off his log competing in the standing chop.

"My mates roped me into the event because I was big for my age and they wanted to beat me in the under-16 boys chop. They got what they wanted."

Wynyard has been laughing since then as he has chopped, sawn and powered to 11 world titles, and now he and his basketball-playing son, Tai, have been named joint winners of the Maori sportsperson of the year.

A few years back, mum Karmyn took out the world crosscut saw title with her husband while teenage Tai is useful with the axe although his size 18 feet are best suited to the basketball arena.

Sap runs through Wynyard's veins. He had the size and power to play rugby, box and wrestle and tried them all but nothing gave him the same rush as challenging the timber.

"Dad was keen for me to play rugby because he had played for King Country and trialled for the Maori All Blacks but he always needed to work. He instilled in me that sport was the way to go but I don't think he meant wood-chopping," Wynyard recalled.

"A boxing promoter heard about me winning some events and I had a week with him. The training and lifestyle was awesome but as soon as I sparred I didn't like it, I couldn't get it into my head that was sport, I didn't have the killer instinct for it.

"I have a mean streak with wood-chopping when I can direct my venom but not with boxing."

For most of us, memories of wood-chopping are connected to travelling sideshows and watching huge men clad in black singlets, swinging their axes and letting the chips fly.

You imagined these men came in from their day jobs in the bush, spent an hour honing the edges of their axes before going to work for some ribbons and extra money. For some it was. For Wynyard, wood-chopping became a career where he has gained a formidable reputation.

He talks about his 80 axes with the detailed affection golfers have for their clubs and or snooker players have for their cues. He gets his axes from the Tuitahi Racing Axes in Masterton and then shapes the American hickory handle and steel to his specific needs.

"You know what works. The handle has to be straight in line with the edge of the axe because if it is not right you can lose up to 10 seconds in one block if your axe is not coming in at the right angle.

"Then there's the edge on the steel. You can spend up to eight hours on an axe getting it right but you have to do that if you want to win championships. Most of the stuff is with angle grinders then the final stuff on the edges by hand and that takes about an hour.

"You can't heat the material up with the angle grinders so you have to work slowly because temperature affects the blade and you have to cool it in water or just leave it."

Tai spent time as a youngster watching his father compete and had his own axe with a round handle. He liked the sport and according to his father had some ability but grew away from it as his 2.03m frame embraced basketball.

"I did an underhand chop three weeks ago and it went okay," he said. Recently he's had minor surgery for an ingrown toenail to allow him to compete for the Junior Tall Blacks in this week's Oceania championships in Fiji.

His father has been troubled by occasional back strains, a shoulder problem and tore his hamstring quite badly in May and at 40, it took him a little longer to recover.

"I do a lot of strength training on my legs and probably got my quads a bit strong," the 130kg axeman said.

Finding enough quality poplar or pine training logs is an occupational hazard which has got harder in the last decade but Woodward recently gathered a supply near Ohaeawai. He drops his supplies at his father-in-law's yard, where he trains.

He needs about two months to get ready for each event and is into his training for his next tournament in Tasmania in January. It's different for his Timbersports world title events where he operates on a much longer plan.

The big events used to be held in the States until 2011 when the rules were changed to allow only Americans because Wynyard and fellow Kiwi David Bolstad were dominating.

"I don't think they liked it too much. That was the biggest competition you could do and the most prizemoney. It has not been a good move though because they have lost a lot of airtime and without that TV exposure they have lost sponsors. It is not as spectacular as it was and the standard has dropped, times are not as fast as they were."

Races were close but only one or two axemen were capable of winning. Times had blown out from 12 to 20 seconds, to show how much standards had slipped.

Wynyard's competitive instincts fire up when he tangles one on one with Tai on the practice basketball court or feels like haranguing officials if his son is being roughed up on the court.

He spent most of his early life in Pukeatua, then Murupara, where his father was a contractor for a logging company. Money was good, the crime rate was much lower and there were about 40 members of the wood-chopping club.

The family then moved north to Kawakawa and Wynyard continued to chop but only as a hobby because there wasn't enough money in it. During the week he was working at a quarry and driving a concrete truck, then competing at events in the weekend.

"I won my first world championship at 18 and won some championships here and represented New Zealand against Australia and it came to a point where I was at the top level and looked to go to the States," he said.

"I had come a long way since that first Mamaku carnival. I had the passion and that was in me from the start. I wanted to win after that and make amends. I went back and trained a lot harder and then I came up the ranks quickly.

"We had been watching tournaments on ESPN and I thought I could do pretty well at that. The chainsaw and hot-saw stuff was all pretty new to me but I figured I could do well enough in the wood-chopping and sawing to offset that. I was right.

"Each trip was three months because of the series and qualifiers. I couldn't afford to take the time off work so I thought I'd give it a go and chucked my job in. I didn't do so well in the series because I broke the handle off my single saw. I was leading on points in the fourth event at the bottom of a log. I grabbed the saw and finished it but was too far behind.

"It happens but I have made sure it hasn't again. I made sure I had stainless handles after that. I was fifth and broke even that year and decided to go back the next year and won it four years straight then.

"Like my wood-chopping at Mamaku, I had a bad start but that made me even more determined to go harder and be better."

Underhand might look the most dangerous of the six events - springboard, stock saw, standing block chop, underhand chop, single block and hotsaw - which make up the world championship trophy.

Wynyard in action at the Wairarapa A&P Show. Photo / Photosport

But it was the discipline where you had most control of your axe because you cut flat foot holes.

"The standing chop is a much more dynamic movement so it is harder to learn," Wynyard said. "It is not a science, you get a feel for the way axes should work and how they respond. It is the same with saws too."

"We don't have as many wood-chopping carnivals as we used to. There were seven competitions up north between Christmas Day and New Years Day on the circuit about 12 years ago but then they started dropping off. Now there is only one at Opononi."

Woodward prefers to use a traditional axe as the purest element in his sport.

Any time you relied on an engine it became like motor-racing. The hotsaw was like that with its highly-modified temperamental engine. Every part was under so much stress and could break at any time.

Wynyard had some rough years with his hotsaws and after five years of drama he built his own and dramatically reduced the trouble. He is working as a technician for Stihl in East Tamaki but has not shelved his tournament work.

"You've got to keep your eye in, you need to stay in nick and Australia is the best place for that," he said.

He was able to continue his career because wife Karmyn worked for Air New Zealand. According to Tai, she was a "superwoman".

She went to Alaska on a basketball scholarship before she had Tai and went wood-chopping. Alaska was too cold, the days were too short and the basketball was a tough scene.

Wynyard had some big paydays but found a steady job and a regular income suited him instead of having to budget with varying tournament winnings.

Son Tai is eyeing a basketball scholarship once he finishes at Rangitoto College next year. He was at school 70 per cent of this year because of basketball trips but had knuckled down to his study each time.

"I worried about that and some of the kids get jealous I'm sure but he has studied well each time he has come back," Wynyard said.

"He wants to make NBA basketball a career and we talk about professional sport and what life would be if Tai could do something like Steven Adams. We've had a lot of scholarship offers but we have time to improve his game with the Breakers before taking up any college option.

"He is in a hurry and has inherited the desire and single-mindedness from his parents.

"I've never found a piece of wood that beat me. You draw your random piece of wood, look at it for about 30 seconds and then work out how to cut it. You have a plan and that might be I'll put 10 hits in the front and eight in the back but sometimes you have to change if you hit a knot.

"The key is making sure you train hard to do all the disciplines well and never give up. That's the contest and life isn't it?"