Envisioning the Ultimate Outdoor Gynasium
If a tree falls in the forest, and there’s no one there to clear it, can I use the lumber for an obstacle course?
This tree is known by many names:
The proper name is Pinus sabiniana, but it also goes by Gray Pine, Bull Pine, Ghost Pine, and Foothill Pine. Around here, people just call them Digger Pine—a name that originated from the use of its seeds by Californian natives, who were derogatorily referred to as 'Diggers' by early settlers because of their practice of digging for these and other edible plants.
It has also earned the nickname "widow maker" due to its nasty habit of toppling unexpectedly on lumberjacks who miscalculate its stability in their efforts to guide its fall. The Digger Pine seems designed to grow towering and unwieldy, often at an odd angle, only to succumb to the forces of nature.
A massive one succumbed during the recent storms, leaving behind a 10-foot-wide crater and dragging several smaller trees down with it.
So, what’s a Digger Pine good for, you might wonder? As it turns out, not a whole lot.
My initial thought was to mill it into lumber, enough to frame a small cottage from what I could see. But pine is a subpar construction material—it's prone to rot and far too soft for most uses.
Can you burn it? Sure, but the high sap content means it smokes heavily, making it far less ideal than, say, oak, which is also in abundant supply for firewood after the recent windstorms.
Turning it into mulch is an option. But who needs a literal ton of mulch?
Instead, I plan to slice the trunk into large “rounds” of varying sizes to serve as the foundational posts for the obstacle course I’ve been dreaming of for years.
My concept of the Ultimate Outdoor Gymnasium traces its roots back to Georges Hébert (1875-1957), who persuaded the French government to invest in expansive outdoor athletic training facilities. Initially designed for military recruits, these facilities later expanded their reach to various civilian groups. The Natural Method, an open-air fitness regimen that emphasizes freedom of movement and locomotion, became the workout par excellence in France after the wars. Soon, it inspired militaries worldwide to swap stationary exercises for obstacle courses. The goal was to forge soldiers capable of navigating real-world obstacles, not just champions of endless jumping jacks.
However, aside from a few remaining rugged playgrounds, it’s hard to find the kind of obstacle courses for adults to exercise the full range of natural human movements.
That’s where the Digger Pine gives me hope.
Given that I’m renting and don’t own the property I’m on, I am limited in terms of the kinds of permanent structures I can build. However, I do have some leeway for a modest prototype comprising various beams and rounds made from fallen trees.
I'm picturing these rounds as multifunctional platforms for exercises like box jumps, as well as supports for balance beams, vaults, and more. With some trimming and bark removal, the thinner downed oak trees can be turned into robust climbing structures for both kids and adults.
The more polished version of what I’m picturing already exists in some avant-garde parks in Berkeley. The company that makes them, Kompan, leans towards natural aesthetics. They use Robinia lumber for its “whimsical shapes, warm colors, and soft textures” – ideal for a kids’ playground. However, you’ve got to work with what you’ve got, and what I've got is Oak and Digger.
I hope to use as few fasteners and as little external material as possible, instead employing the kind of joinery I've employed in past projects, like constructing floating platforms. Picture Lincoln Logs, but on a grander scale, with big indentations carved out for interlocking pieces.
Will it work? Or, more importantly, will I use it? I have no idea. But this seems like a better use of the trees than mulch, and building it is a better use of time than scrolling on X.
Fortunately, I won't be tackling this project alone. I've got a group of friends coming over this weekend, all eager to help with something hands-on.
This project fits into a significant part of my vision for the year, and I plan to document our journey, step by step. Who knows—maybe it will start a revival of Natural Method playgrounds in rural backyards across the country.
We're not chasing perfection here. We're well aware that the materials we're working with will eventually decay. Yet, there's a certain beauty in this impermanence. I stumbled upon a YouTube video by a homesteader named JoeSimple speculating about the purpose of the Digger Pine within the whole of creation. If these awkward trees are good for nothing else, they rise only to fall and, in their decline, enrich the rocky soil of the Sierra foothills with organic matter. Each fallen trunk and gnarled stump contributes to the foundation of a thriving future.