Chainsaw carvers travel from near and far for ‘Burning Bear’

Some traveled a few miles down the road, others crossed state lines while one man journeyed from the opposite side of the globe to sculpt cedar with whizzing chainsaws on the Washington coast.

Chainsaw carvers come together each February to create and sell wooden artwork at the eye-catching roadside marketplace in Ocean City. High bidders run up the price on eagles with textured feathers and pointed beaks, soot-black bears with cartoonish grins and, this year, a massive octopus with tentacles shaped from a sprawling root wad.

Then, in an act that clashes with the carvers’ economic pursuits but enlivens their spirits, they light fire to a towering bear sculpture — shaped by the efforts of a community of saws — that could be worth thousands of dollars otherwise.

“It’s a transitionary art form,” said Steve Backus, a longtime chainsaw carver who helped start the Burning Bear festival. “It’s the synergy that we bring together. Everybody’s working on it.”

Feb. 16, 17 and 18 marked the 16th annual Burning Bear in Ocean City, which along with the gathering of carvers to sell their pieces at auction, always concludes with burning, or mostly burning, a giant bear sculpture.

As is customary, this year’s bear had a themed costume with a dash of irony. The ursine donned a fireman’s helmet and a dragon’s head on its chest — the Chinese zodiac fortune for 2024 — that seemed to breathe fire as orange flames lapped the wood, even as Saturday’s steady drizzle dampened the flames.

An international affair

Situated aside a sharp bend in state Route 109, the Ocean City Marketplace always attracts carvers for the February festival, and this year had a strong foreign presence.

Brigitte Lochhead came down from British Columbia for her first Burning Bear event after meeting Backus at a carving event in Pennsylvania.

“It’s such a fun community,” she said before punctuating a wooden hedgehog with the char of a blowtorch. “The artform itself is something that’s physical and mental all at the same time.”

Many carvers travel the Pacific Northwest and the country selling their artwork at different shows and festivals. Chainsaw Carvers Rendezvous, where Lochhead met Backus, is a massive event with hundreds of carvers that forged other connections at Burning Bear, including the festival’s first visit from a Mongolian carver.

Lkhagvadorj Dorjsuren, who the other carvers lovingly call “George,” participated in the Burning Bear festival this year before flying back to his home of Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia’s capitol city, the following week. Formerly a hand carver, Dorjsuren said he switched to chainsaw carving eight years ago. The motorized saw, he said, allows him to work quickly and capture his inspiration when it comes to him, rather than lose it after hours of hand carving.

After learning to carve from the internet, he has visited the United States to take notes from other carvers.

“It’s part of American traditional culture,” he said. “I want to learn here.”

Burning Bear is a chance for carvers to exchange techniques, styles and ideas. Anthony Robinson, who has been carving since 2012 and has a shop in the area, invited several newer carvers to the event this year.

“We’re like this one great big organism that really starts to come together,” Robinson said.

Another bonus of the Ocean City location, he said, is that property owner Ivan Hass works hard to gather a steady supply of wood for the carvers.

“We’re pretty simple and easy, we’re not like a big carving show,” Hass said, adding that the event still does not have any sponsors.

“You create an environment that’s welcoming and has hospitality — if you can get here as a carver, they’ll feed you, give you a place to pitch a tent if you can’t afford a motel,” Backus said.

He added,“It doesn’t work without that grassroots level of everyone kind of getting behind it.”

Contact reporter Clayton Franke at 406-552-3917 or clayton.franke@thedailyworld.com.

Volunteers supply the heat in an attempt to inflame a giant wooden bear recently doused in rain on Saturday, Feb. 17. (Clayton Franke / The Daily World)