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That might be hell on your wrists. I'll never forget when I was about 14 years old, my pal and I were splitting wood as my grandfather chatted with a friend nearby. Occasionally we'd be lucky and get a clean split, but more often than not, we'd have to pry out the axe and hit again. After a time, my grandfather, who was a bit lit at that moment, walked over, grabbed the axe and split several logs in succession, never striking one twice. Pop pop pop. He handed the axe back, and he and his friend laughed their asses off.