Paul Davis
10-08-2009, 4:25 PM
I've been enjoying my new Bad Axe 16" 11ppi rip saw for a couple of weeks now. Because I developed a good email relationship with Mark Harrell, the Bad Axe creator, over the last several months, I wrote him to tell him how much pleasure his work was bringing me. I completely love buying handmade tools from guys like Mark and Bob Z, Jameel, Dave C, and Joe C (wooden vise screws). I like Veritas and Lie-Nielsen tools, too...okay, I just like tools. But there's something extra cool about the experience of corresponding, selecting, ordering, waiting for, receiving, and then using tools made by these guys. I'm not meaning to diss others like Phil Edwards, Ron Brese, Mike Wenzloff--I just haven't moved on from browsing/studying/coveting to corresponding/buying/owning with them, yet.
But back to Mark, with whom I have the longest running relationship so far. I'd like him to be stunningly successful with his new Bad Axe business, even though strict self-interest would suggest I try to keep him as my secret friend. :) So I wanted to post a comment on the blog post by Chris Schwarz on Bad Axe and Mark, saying how happy I was with my big tenon saw. What held me back is the fact that I'm no saw expert. I own and use lots of planes, and have enough experience with different makers and types to be able to compare them, but for some reason, in my furniture-making hobby until recently I've done almost all my sawing with power tools. I didn't fancy having my blog comment appear next to Tom Fidgen's.
It occurred to me that my experience--that of having no experience--qualified me well on this here world wide web thingie. Who could I speak to? All of the other people who make all of their cuts with power tools, enjoy planing by hand, but keep wondering what the deal is with handsaws, that's who.
My paternal ancestors (grandfathers going back to the beginnings of genealogy) have all been cabinetmakers or shipwrights. Their tools have ended up with me. Almost all of them are so worn out that they can barely be used without some serious restoration. That's how I met Mark Harrell. I mailed him my great-great-grandfather's 12" carcass saw. William Davis was a shipwright who would've made the first cuts with this saw about 1890, assuming he was the first owner. His owner's stamp was on the saw, which had two broken horns and a serpentine plate. Mark sent me back a saw I could use. It's even possible my great-great-grandkid could use it, some time in the 22nd century. A saw with this much history that I can actually use to make furniture is about a thousand times more interesting than when it was in the bottom of my toolbox, wrapped in cloth.
During the correspondence that developed between Mark and me as we talked over the renewal of my old family saw, it came to light that I didn't own "enough" other good saws. He suggested I consider a Disston 4-12 that he had found, rehabbed, and tuned up. We had settled on filing my old saw rip, and this one would make a nice crosscut companion. (I'm aware that it was at about this point that I let the crack dealer know that I was really interested in developing a habit, metaphorically speaking. I was even aware of it at the time. :))
FedEx brought me both of these saws in the same box. My first discovery was that my ancestors were a small-handed people. The old saw now cuts great, but it's a snug fit. That Disston was the real revelation. A handle that fits perfectly makes you want to think up excuses to hold it. Like using it to cut stuff. I spent yesterday using that Disston to cut mouldings to finish off a floor job. That and a shooting board turned a nasty job into real fun. I could do all the fitting of the moulding in my living room, with no noise and only a little sweepable dust and shavings.
I have this strange, warm sensation when I pick up the Disston--somehow the talent and care of its previous owners seem to have soaked into the deep brown applewood. I feel like a better craftsman just for picking it up. It comes with confidence.
The Bad Axe is like that perfectly tuned Disston, but even better. (These are the some of the same words I posted on Chris Schwarz's blog.) The handle fits me the same, but is made of nice cherry instead of apple. It's me that's going to age this cherry to a deep brown--and I hope grow into it, skill-wise. There's no question that the saw Mark made from scratch makes me a better, more confident craftsman. I had the moving experience of discovering that he had filed it with less rake at the toe and heel. If I try to start it further up the blade, it catches, but when I pull it back to the toe it starts without a snag, then cuts very deeply through the rest of the stroke. Someone else described it as "diving into the cut." That's just right.
I guess what I'm saying is that my only qualification to say all of this is that Mark's saws make me happy.
Paul
But back to Mark, with whom I have the longest running relationship so far. I'd like him to be stunningly successful with his new Bad Axe business, even though strict self-interest would suggest I try to keep him as my secret friend. :) So I wanted to post a comment on the blog post by Chris Schwarz on Bad Axe and Mark, saying how happy I was with my big tenon saw. What held me back is the fact that I'm no saw expert. I own and use lots of planes, and have enough experience with different makers and types to be able to compare them, but for some reason, in my furniture-making hobby until recently I've done almost all my sawing with power tools. I didn't fancy having my blog comment appear next to Tom Fidgen's.
It occurred to me that my experience--that of having no experience--qualified me well on this here world wide web thingie. Who could I speak to? All of the other people who make all of their cuts with power tools, enjoy planing by hand, but keep wondering what the deal is with handsaws, that's who.
My paternal ancestors (grandfathers going back to the beginnings of genealogy) have all been cabinetmakers or shipwrights. Their tools have ended up with me. Almost all of them are so worn out that they can barely be used without some serious restoration. That's how I met Mark Harrell. I mailed him my great-great-grandfather's 12" carcass saw. William Davis was a shipwright who would've made the first cuts with this saw about 1890, assuming he was the first owner. His owner's stamp was on the saw, which had two broken horns and a serpentine plate. Mark sent me back a saw I could use. It's even possible my great-great-grandkid could use it, some time in the 22nd century. A saw with this much history that I can actually use to make furniture is about a thousand times more interesting than when it was in the bottom of my toolbox, wrapped in cloth.
During the correspondence that developed between Mark and me as we talked over the renewal of my old family saw, it came to light that I didn't own "enough" other good saws. He suggested I consider a Disston 4-12 that he had found, rehabbed, and tuned up. We had settled on filing my old saw rip, and this one would make a nice crosscut companion. (I'm aware that it was at about this point that I let the crack dealer know that I was really interested in developing a habit, metaphorically speaking. I was even aware of it at the time. :))
FedEx brought me both of these saws in the same box. My first discovery was that my ancestors were a small-handed people. The old saw now cuts great, but it's a snug fit. That Disston was the real revelation. A handle that fits perfectly makes you want to think up excuses to hold it. Like using it to cut stuff. I spent yesterday using that Disston to cut mouldings to finish off a floor job. That and a shooting board turned a nasty job into real fun. I could do all the fitting of the moulding in my living room, with no noise and only a little sweepable dust and shavings.
I have this strange, warm sensation when I pick up the Disston--somehow the talent and care of its previous owners seem to have soaked into the deep brown applewood. I feel like a better craftsman just for picking it up. It comes with confidence.
The Bad Axe is like that perfectly tuned Disston, but even better. (These are the some of the same words I posted on Chris Schwarz's blog.) The handle fits me the same, but is made of nice cherry instead of apple. It's me that's going to age this cherry to a deep brown--and I hope grow into it, skill-wise. There's no question that the saw Mark made from scratch makes me a better, more confident craftsman. I had the moving experience of discovering that he had filed it with less rake at the toe and heel. If I try to start it further up the blade, it catches, but when I pull it back to the toe it starts without a snag, then cuts very deeply through the rest of the stroke. Someone else described it as "diving into the cut." That's just right.
I guess what I'm saying is that my only qualification to say all of this is that Mark's saws make me happy.
Paul