The Great Wood Stove Reckoning of 2023-24
Much ado about a cast iron box
Esteemed hand-wringers: Have you ever found yourself knee deep in a situation, a decision, say, wherein, about halfway through, you reflect, ‘Perhaps I am overthinking this?’ I have been in just this position for, even I am embarrassed to say, something like four months now. In November, at the beginning of this winter’s burning season, I began panicking about—as many former, current, and future California residents can, I hope, relate to—indoor air quality. And here the journey begins.
Last winter, as a joke, my partner Jesse gave me The Woodburner’s Companion, a book about heating with wood. Absolutely not taking the joke whatsoever, I read the whole thing cover to cover. (In fact, it’s a pretty good read and I recommend picking it up!) We’re going to get into reconciling smoke after it’s left the house a little later (it wouldn’t be a reckoning without multiple in depth chapters to the point of tedium, yes?), but for now: How exactly does one burn wood inside the home without filling it with smoke? From the book, it’s fairly simple:
For one, your stove needs to be in good condition, properly installed, and the flue should be unobstructed. That’s pretty obvious.
Firewood should always be dry and well-seasoned. Wet wood doesn’t get up to temperature easily or efficiently—and then creates smoke. There’s a lot of conversation about how to tell if the wood you’re buying is well-seasoned. We buy wood that’s kiln-dried, which has been really great. You can also buy green wood and season it yourself (let it sit somewhere dry for a year). You can also use a moisture meter to check the pile—although, around here, that might wind up putting you afoul of your wood guy…
Burning at the proper temperature. Most hearth stores (or hardware stores, or even pharmacies, if you live in areas where wood stoves are popular) sell temperature gauges so you can make sure you’re burning at the right temperature. Too cool, you’ll create smoke and creosote. (Too hot, you risk a chimney fire.)
Air. Fires, of course, need air. Some new stoves even pipe fresh air from outdoors into the firebox. Pretty cool.
All of the above serves to create what is ultimately the most important thing for removing smoke from the house: A good draw. The vacuum created by different temperatures (indoor/flue, generally speaking, warmer than outdoor) means smoke naturally flies up and out of the house.
And a few more tips I found around the internet:
Wear a mask when you clean out ash and do so when it’s still somewhat hot—a lot of poor air quality happens just from sloppy clean-up!
Open the hatch s-l-o-w-l-y when adding more wood. If you pop it open quickly, a little vortex can be created, drawing out smoke.
Leave a window or door open when first lighting a fire—this is the time that’s most likely to be smoky as the draw hasn’t started up yet.
No duh: Use an air quality monitor and an air filter, to be sure.
You may have wondered why Jesse would get this book for me, joke or not, in the first place. Which is very observant of you. It’s because, for three winters, we argued1 almost everyday about the best way to light a fire, maintain a fire, remove smoke from the house, and so on. This fall, I decided it was actually the stoves fault and that we needed a new, modern stove that would be easier for us dim-witted West Coast transplants to use. And, therefore, to no longer worry about air quality inside2.
I was right about a few things: Our current stove wasn’t doing us any favors and, in fact, we now know bears the honorable title of “Worst Stove Ever Made.” Our stove has an area where ash collects that is impossible to open and clean. Eventually, it fills up and blocks airflow. Remember: You need air to burn “clean” and not create smoke and creosote. So it wasn’t the relative modernity of our stove that was the problem3—it was just bad design. Worth noting, too: I was wrong about being dim-witted, as it turns out, we are pretty adept for Californians.
The first wring of the hand now complete—should we get a new stove—the question became: Which one?
Here comes the part about smoke outside of the house. All new stoves in the US have to meet an ever-evolving and tightening set of guidelines from the EPA. This is actually really exciting (at least, to me) because, as far as combustible fuels go, wood represents a simple, viable, and exceptionally available mode of heating without fossil fuels—but, it’s only a sustainable model if we’re not puffing smoke and CO2 into the atmosphere. Imagine, too, that you are my neighbor who never buys wood nor fells trees; he just collects all the fallen trees from storms, cuts ‘em up, seasons them, and then has all the free, available fuel he needs.
Truly, burning wood inside your home does not *feel* like a sustainable option. But feelings aren’t facts, baby! Solar or wind powered electric heat is, of course, the best of the best available options. However, burning wood, efficiently and using the new “clean burn” stove technologies, is indeed a vast improvement over fossil fuels and is considered a carbon neutral heat source. If you’ve got time, take a stroll through the Maryland-based non profit Alliance For Green Heat’s website, which is full of “green” wood-burning data. I also went ahead and lost myself looking into the efforts being made in Norway to understand the potential for wood burning fuel, which they are contemplating under the larger category of “biofuel” or “bioenergy.” Wood! I’m not making it up!
Now, how exactly do these new stoves burn so ‘clean’? Generally speaking, stoves manufactured after 1998 use one of three different available technologies. The first is called a secondary burn, which is exactly what it sounds like. Wood gets burned, smoke recirculates and an additional air source is introduced to burn off the VOs in the smoke. The second uses a catalyst, just like the catalytic converter on your car to filter and destroy the volatile compounds and gases in the smoke. The third isn’t really a third—it’s a hybrid option of these two, using both a secondary burn and a catalytic combuster.
For those keeping track: We have decided to get a new (to us) stove because we’re concerned about air quality due to a poor draw; we have decided to get a new-new stove that complies with EPA standards so as to not spew pollution. From here we enter the murky and arguably worst—albeit perhaps most entertaining—portion of this exercise: Aesthetics.
To my mind, there are roughly four major aesthetic categories of wood stove out there: Austin Powers, Benjamin Franklin, Sarah Plain and Tall, and Pippi Longstocking.
Austin Powers Stoves
Sure, there are plenty of other Carnaby-era (or in this case contemporary-doing-Carnaby) references I could have used, but here we are. These are not for me—I can’t full place why— and I feel they could use a little lampooning, frankly. Really, who do they think they are?
Benjamin Franklin Stoves
This one is pretty obvious—whether it’s a more minimal take or replete with extra little curly-cues, the general silhouette here is that of a classic Franklin stove.
Sarah Plain and Tall Stoves
Referring to the 1986 Newbury Prize-winning book about a pretty uninteresting pioneer mail order bride, these stoves would look at home in a covered wagon, headed west, and some have a cook function as well.
Pippi Longstocking Stoves
These are the stoves I tend to favor—their shape is taller than wider; they are smaller overall. As tends to be the case with me and my taste, almost none of these are available in the US and installing one into one’s home would take an incredible amount of logistic gymnastics, phoning of European friends, etc. “Difficult, but possible” has always been my favorite mantra from Whole Earth Catalog and now you know why.
We were lost in this horrible house of mirrors of wood stove aesthetic indecision for many, many months. I favored the Jotul Greenville; Jesse favored the Hearthstone Green Mountain. Then we saw a stove called the Hipster, which looks a lot like the Hearthstone, and then we both hated the Hearthstone. Then, we wanted the Morso 2B or 1440 B (both above), but they’re too small for our space (in our 2007 build, the design perspective was, I think, who needs walls??). The point at which I realized we had fully, finally lost the plot was when our friends, who had an actual chimney fire last year and so had legitimate—not imagined!—reasons for overhauling this whole system, purchased that Jotul Greenville, the very one we originally liked before entering this fugue state. This is when I put the whole thing to the side because I knew it wasn’t really a “stove problem” so much as a “Zinzi and Jesse problem.”
Of course, this story does not end there (it may, in fact, never end). At some point in this fever dream, a friend introduced us to the Jotul F118, or Black Bear, and then we saw them everywhere. There was one at a beach house where we went to a new year’s party; there was one in our neighbor’s very cool 1980s self-build. We wanted one. They had been discontinued (despite having been updated and rereleased for the EPA standards in the oughts!).
But, lo! Out of nowhere (Facebook Marketplace), a long-dead conversation happened to randomly reignite and suddenly, we might be a week out from finally having a new stove, a Jotul Black Bear that is only a few years old. Jesse and a friend just have to drive to Cape Cod, take the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard, get the stove (hopefully it’s as good as it seems), bring it back here… And then we’ll see what comes next. Difficult, but possible, as ever.
Readers: Any strong feelings about wood stoves? Should there be a Part 2 to this saga? Will I ever stop being sick because I don’t think my liver (or sanity) can take any more Mucinex DM?
Like in a friendly way!
Well, from the wood stove at least. 👀
Although relative modernism *is* important. Stoves manufactured after 1998 comply with EPA standards released at that time.
My aunt and uncle installed my grandparents’ vintage 1960s Jotul (bought new while they were stationed in Oslo, cherry red!) in their summer place for the shoulder season, and that thing COOKS. I think you’ll be really happy with the Black Bear!
Just went through this on a very small house we bought in RI, built in 1990. Drove a mere 30 minutes in to CT to grab the Morso 1440B but my eye was caught by the Lincoln by hearthstone - I didn't want to like this stove because I was very enchanted by the squirrels but there were a few winning features for me - and after a long and deep soul searching experience (literally weeks of deliberation and discussion), I went for it. First - our space is very small and if we get cooked out of this room we don't really have anywhere else to go so the idea of the "more comfortable" burn sounded good. Second - the long and deep shape that allows for 18" logs rather than needing to cut all our logs to 12" seemed appealing. I also like the little cook burner and high efficiency of this stove. It took me so long to make a decision on this, I missed the winter but we will still be installing it ASAP to get a few fires in. I hope this stove was the right call!
Please update with part 2 - I hope moving it isn't too bad.