I had no idea woodchucks actually could chuck wood. But for certain values of “chuck,” the amount of wood is now known, unless of course it isn’t:
[P.A.] Paskevich and [T.B.] Shea used the word “chuck” to mean “chew” and gathered up 12 woodchucks and deprived them of food to make sure the would be chewed.
The woodchucks were then given a 2×4 plank of wood and recorded (once again, “recorded”) how much they chewed/ate.
According to the “study”, the animals were pretty hungry and ate/chewed at a rate of 361.9237001 cubic centimetres per animal per day.
To give you some idea of what that actually means, that’s just over the size of a can of Coke (330ml is equivalent to 330 cubic centimetres).
Assuming that “chuck” is not equivalent to “chew” — I dunno, last cut of chuck I had was pretty damned chewy — we have this:
In another “experiment” of estimating and guessing in science, a wildlife biologist at New York’s Cornell University worked out that it was around 700 pounds (though no timing was given on how long that would take).
The biologist measured how large an average burrow of a woodchuck is and gave a guess that, if the hole was filled with wood (rather than dirt), the woodchuck would have to have chucked around 700 pounds (318kg) of wood.
That’s some serious chuckage.
(Via Fark, with the following note: “Next, will tackle if Peter Piper really picked a peck of pickled peppers.”)