Bar oil

I bought a chainsaw about 15 years ago. I use it only occasionally for pruning trees with thickish branches.

Being a two-stroke, you mix petrol with oil 50:1. This is within my limited ability to service internal combustion engines. The machine also requires oil for lubricating the cutting chain. This component runs around a bar which projects from the engine. Effective tool and can become a lethal weapon as a certain film set in Texas based its scenario on.

I ran out of chain lubricating oil and revisited the shop I bought the saw from. A man looking like Leatherface comes of the back, wiping his hands on a oily rag.

“I need chainsaw oil. For the chain.”

“You mean bar oil.”

“Okay. Bar oil. This is the original container.”

He peers at it. “You use the chainsaw often?”

“Why?”

“It’s just, well that container is a CLASSIC. They stopped making them, oh, fifteen years ago.”

I also say, “Oh.” And then add, “That would be about the time I bought the saw. From here.”

“It would have been Jack’s shop then. I bought it off him about eight or nine years ago.”

He hands over a liter plastic bottle of bar oil.

“What’s the difference between bar oil and ordinary lubricating oil?”

“Bar oil’s got glue in it.”

“GLUE?”

“Sright. Oil sticks to the chain as it is spinning around. Ordinary oil flies off on the turn.”

“Wouldn’t want that.”

“You would not. Six dollars 30 cents.”

“Pretty reasonable. I think I paid five-ninety-five fifteen years ago.”

“Ha, That was Jack. He’d discount the saw and get it back off you on the lubes and stuff. Character was Jack.”