A few months later, Mark got a call from the executive producer preparing for the second season, saying she was going to be in their area and wanted to see them in person. Mark shared his concerns about the contract she proposed as well as his candid thoughts about how the company was portrayed during season one. But then something odd happened. He never heard from the producer again. She never visited him, and they never followed up on the contract. Just as quickly as the Gustafson brothers came into fame, they exited quietly. Their embodiment of life as loggers ended with one season, 13 episodes. The History Channel spent millions of dollars promoting Ax Men, but the Gustafsons were left behind. They did not receive compensation or royalties. Life for their crews returned to normal. No cameramen. No field producers.

The reality show also disappointed the Gustafsons for omitting details about the profession that are not only essential to Oregon state law but to the viewer who knows nothing about logging. The brothers realize their industry is frowned upon by people who don’t understand what they do or who believe they’re killing the forests. But Mark says those views are ironic—because loggers are environmentalists. “We actually have to be the biggest environmentalists because of the regulations we follow and our interest in keeping the forest alive,” he says. Mark says logging is no different than a farmer harvesting a crop. Their crop happens to be timber and, in the state of Oregon, loggers are required to replant any area they’ve cleared within two years under the Forest Practices Act of 1972. “Regardless, we’re self-motivated to replant. You’d be surprised,” he says, “but there are more trees growing in Oregon now than in the late 1950s.”

Replanting the crop is not something that earns much media attention. And in the case of their reality-show appearance, Mark and Clay say they were shocked that replanting was never mentioned during season one. Film crews followed tree-planting crews at the nursery and in the field. The loggers even explained how the process worked and how much protective area they’re required to leave. “Yet not a single second of that footage was used in the show,” Mark says. “We were really disappointed. We figured the History Channel was credible, but they didn’t mention anything [about replanting].” And the show’s failure to include the footage is just another reason why the Gustafsons aren’t disappointed their time in front of the camera is over.

Reality-show producers instead chose to show the factors that make a logger’s job unnerving and scary. Damage to expensive equipment, some of which costs a quarter- or half-million dollars, leads to headaches and shutdowns. Catastrophic failure of guide lines, which cost thousands of dollars, pose a threat to crews who are in the way. “We’ve seen this type of stuff plenty of times,” Mark says. “There are days when everything runs like clockwork. And then, every time we turn around, something is broken.” Mark says work only operates at a 100-percent efficiency 25 percent of the time. Mechanical problems, wicked weather or labor issues are all part of the profession—and Ax Men took advantage of the few opportunities that existed to capture such drama.

Even with a physically strenuous work day, a plethora of hazards everyday and a brush with reality-show fame, Mark and Clay remain committed to their jobs because they’re passionate about what they do. They continue the tradition started by their father, and they provide an income for dozens of people who rely on the logging industry as their livelihood. Logging requires thick skin and a willingness to put oneself in harm’s way. The work puts advanced wear and tear on the body, and it’s tough to recruit young guys who are interested in hard work for limited pay. In fact, the pay scale for loggers is 20 to 30 percent below where it should be, according to the Gustafsons. “There’s a perception is that logging is too tough and is a destructive process,” Clay says. “Some parents have discouraged kids from going into our field. Plus, young guys may say, ‘Oh, I could go out in danger’s way and bad weather—or I could go bag groceries for the same pay and have better benefits.’”

But regardless of facing obstacles in the forest, equipment that won’t work, extreme weather patterns or prodding camera crews with pushy producers, the Gustafson brothers remain loyal to their blue-collar, nitty-gritty logging profession. They never sought fame nor do they brag about their accomplishments. They consider themselves simple and direct, enjoying the time they get to spend in the great outdoors and the employees who make their jobs worthwhile. In a way, they’ve long prepared for this point in their lives, whether or not anyone is watching. Those preps took place during their impressionable years as collegiate brothers. “The guys in the chapter were successful when I was there, and many of them have gone on to do great things,” Mark says. “We fed off our interaction with them no matter what we were doing. It made me want to live my life that way— to be successful and competitive.” Though it’s been more than three decades since they roamed the halls of Oregon Alpha, they owe a debt of gratitude to Sigma Alpha Epsilon and the brothers who helped inspire their success. They may no longer be the History Channel’s ax men, but they will always be ax men.

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