I intend this column to be helpful advice to women. It’s about a sad subject, the plight of pine trees in our urban, suburban, and rural landscape and the casualties that follow. Mountain pine beetles have hit our trees. These creatures attack most pines, particularly ponderosa, lodgepole, and Scotch; trees we treasure around our homes and in our parks.

Beetles select our best large, green trees. They attack by tunneling under the bark and laying eggs. Upon hatching, the larvae tunnel under the bark girdling the trees.

You’ve no doubt seen the result, yellow and brown trees in towns and throughout our valley. There are several preventive measures, but no cure after a tree is struck. They need to be cut and burned.

This is my strong suggestion: unless he is an experienced timber faller, not a fall firewood cutter, don’t let a male you care about fall your dead or dying trees. Testosterone poisoning can be extremely dangerous, even deadly. Rocky Mountain males are especially prone to this affliction.

I worked summers in the woods for seven years, mainly as a faller, and have the scars as tattooed testimony. Still, falling timber really is great fun. I treasure my two pro saws, a new Stihl and a Husky from my last job in Oregon, and love the sound of a serious saw biting into wood. It’s easy for me to understand the temptation for homeowners to tackle their trees. But please don’t.

Unless one knows what he is doing, the danger of dumping a tree on a car, porch, fence, or even a watching child, is high. Further, the amateur woodsman is quite likely to be seriously hurt. The risks are high indeed.

I’ve recently seen several examples of poor tree falling. Stumps range from 18 inches to 3 feet off the ground. I’ve seen no evidence of proper undercuts with a pie slice wedge perpendicular to the tree’s axis and a third of the way through.

These flaws of technique are compelling signs of boys (of any age) playing with dangerous toys. If you love him, don’t let him. If you don’t love him, but dislike carnage, don’t watch.

He may be lucky, but the results are unlikely to be pretty. If he sees this bug infestation as an excuse to buy a saw and insists on using it, let him cut firewood after paying a pro to fall the bug-hit trees. Cutting firewood is probably no more dangerous than high marking with a snowmobile, running the Gallatin River during peak runoff, or riding a motorcycle at night while drunk.

Geoffrey Norman crafted a wonderful review of Jack McEnany’s Brush Cat: On Trees, the Wood Economy, and the Most Dangerous Job in America. It begins with this: “In any gathering of men who take down trees for a living you will see a few battle wounds. Sliced digits. Crooked legs. Scarred faces. Chain saws are fast, powerful and unforgiving, and the ones that the professionals use resemble what the ordinary citizen buys from Home Depot about as much as a Chevy off the lot resembles the Impala SS Jimmie Johnson drove at the Daytona 500.”

The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that timber-cutters have a death rate nearly 30 times that of a typical worker. Loggers died at a rate of 117.8 per 100,000 workers, with most killed by falling trees. Mr. McEnany writes that logging is "the most dangerous job in America," handily beating out the number-two killer profession, commercial fishing.

I speculate that the death rate here in the Gallatin Valley will be quite low, likely zero for those cutting yard trees. However, the injury score and property damage may be high indeed. Further, the incidental frustration cost of using a homeowner rather than a $700 to $1,000 professional saw will be large. (Of course the homeowner is unlikely to appreciate the difference, but it really is substantial.)

If pine bark beetles afflict your trees and a man in your life is tempted to buy a chainsaw, I suggest a stall. Read Geoff Norman’s Wall Street Journal review to him, buy McEnany’s Bush Cat, and locate a professional. It is likely to be far cheaper on multiple dimensions.