Meet Thoren Bradley, TikTok’s Favorite Wood-Chopping Hot Guy
Apparently, lumberjack is everyone’s type.
If Thoren “Thor” Bradley hasn’t shown up on your FYP yet, here’s what you’re missing: a 6-foot-tall, 200-pound hunk who regularly chops wood in a T-shirt and suspenders. Oh, and he has a beard and tattoos — and sometimes goes for a shirtless dip in a stream. Essentially, he’s like if Axe body spray was a person and actually smelled like a woodsy forest instead of chemicals.
The 31-year-old creator has 8.3 million TikTok followers, and most of them are at least slightly in love with him. His videos, which typically involve him swinging an axe, have TikTok feeling some type of way — and that way is, well, titillated. According to Bradley’s analytics, his audience is 49% male, 51% female, and 100% horny. (OK, OK, there are some who are genuinely interested in the best wood chopping techniques.)
Fortunately, Bradley doesn’t mind the thirst. “I am, without a doubt, supportive of people exploring their sexuality,” he tells Elite Daily. “My platform is a safe space for people because they know they're not going to be judged for saying something like that.” Like what, exactly? Bradley’s most NSFW comments range from “I’m pregnant” to “I now identify as wood ready to be split 🥰.”
Below, Bradley opens up to Elite Daily about his relationship with his audience, becoming TikTok’s lumberjack crush, and what he really thinks of those thirsty comments.
Elite Daily: How did you get started chopping wood — and when did you decide to put it on TikTok?
Thoren Bradley: I grew up in the wildland surrounding Yosemite National Park in Northern California, where it’s extremely common to use firewood as your heat source. As a kid, my father was an arborist, so he dealt with trees, chopped them up, and brought wood home to use for heat. After he passed away when I was 13, I inherited all of his tools, and I used chopping as a means to make spending money.
When I left for college, I continued doing these wood jobs. I got my master’s degree in exercise physiology; I was working as a strength and conditioning coach for the NCAA when COVID hit. I thought, “Holy sh*t. I don’t know that my job’s going to be a job for much longer if athletes can’t train or compete.”
So, I started filming my lifestyle in 2020. Each video did a little bit better, and then I felt the full effect of going viral when Doja Cat duetted me last February. After that, I immediately ran to the bathroom and threw up.
ED: Doja isn’t the only one who’s reacted to your videos. You have a very thirsty comments section. How do you feel about that?
TB: There’s something about my page that allows people to let their guard down a little bit. People can say outlandish things in a comfortable way, within the context of humor.
ED: Did you know sex appeal would play a role in your success when you started?
TB: I did have enough self-confidence to know that it could be a component. The touch of trying to make things attractive and watchable has always been there.
ED: You don’t seem bothered by the attention, but do you ever see negativity from others about it?
TB: I’ll see a lot of young men comment, “Imagine if men were talking like this to women. They’d be canceled.” And it’s like, “No sh*t, obviously,” because look at the context.
Obviously, I’ve never been in a position where I’m walking down a dark alley and feel like my safety is at risk. I’ve never been in a position where a comment feels like it’s going to lead to an assault. “If the roles were reversed” is a horrible argument. For me, these more sexual comments are funny, cute, and complimentary. Context matters.
ED: Speaking of the men in your comments section, on the app, you’re seen as the symbol of a manly man. What’s that like?
TB: I try to show that masculinity can be an OK thing. It’s only bad if it gets in the way of who you are as a person and how you interact with people.
When Roe v. Wade was overturned and I spoke out in support of the right to choose, people were just absolutely mind-blown to find out that I was liberal-leaning. But it was cool to be in a position where people look to you as a picture of masculinity, and you can turn that on its head a little bit.
ED: What’s your relationship with your audience like? How do you decide when to play into their comments or when to ignore them?
TB: The more playful of a mood I’m in, the crazier I’ll get in responding. I try to tease out why somebody might be on my page. I’m not going to be sarcastic to a 17-year-old boy who has a genuine question about splitting wood. Whereas if it’s a 35-year-old woman who said “I hope my husband doesn’t find me in these comments,” and there’s potential she’s going to get some backlash for writing that, I’ll come in with a more playful comment to balance it out.
ED: Are you DMs as wild as your comments?
TB: No, I think there’s an intimacy to a DM for most people — it makes them feel like they’re actually interacting with a human instead of a page. They’re not as bold.
Obviously, I’ve gotten my fair share of nudes. Women and men alike have sent them. If I see that they sent a photo and open it (which I rarely do nowadays), I’ll actually delete the message and respond, “Sorry, I missed your message. I was purging my inbox, and didn’t see what you had sent me.” And then I just never open their messages again.
When someone sends a nude, they’re left hanging out to dry. I’m not going to be the person that makes them feel like their image is just out there somewhere. Maybe they were drunk or vulnerable and they did something they weren’t exactly proud of. I want them to feel like they get a reset from that.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.