Saw Storage Upgrade - Part II

I gave some thought to making another till for my bench saws, or maybe some kind of cabinet, but in the end I decided to stick with the hanging panel idea. One thing I really like about tool holding panels is how easy it is to see and get at everything. Plus, I like how it looks; a kind of "shop art".

The new panel would hang from the French cleat system I use in my shop. Basically, this works by having two boards, each with 45° angles, that interlock. One board is attached to the wall, and the other is attached to the back of whatever you are hanging. In my shop, I have a continuous cleat running along the walls. This makes it very easy to hang and rearrange all sorts of things: panels, tills, shelving units, miter boxes, postdrills etc.

One thing that needs to be addressed is how to attach the corresponding cleat to the unit being hung. Most things hung in my shop simply have the cleat glued and screwed to the back of the frame at the top. This is long grain to long grain, and therefore wood movement is not an issue. Sometimes the cleat must be attached cross grain, and here wood movement could be a problem. On relatively narrow cross grain joints, such as the single 1x12 panel that holds my braces, I don't worry too much about it. I just screw it on and only glue it in the middle. Larger cross grain joints, such as the one on this new saw panel, are a different story.

To get the width I wanted for the new panel, it would be made from three 1x10 boards. If I used glued butt joints to join the boards into a single 27 inch wide slab, movement could become fairly significant. If I then just screwed the cleat across the back, the board would most likely split as it tried to move. I could have used slotted holes for the screws, but instead I decided to just use unglued T&G (tongue & groove) joints and attach each board to the cleat separately. This way, each board is free to expand and contract independently, while the T&G joints keep everything aligned and looking good - i.e. no wall visible through gaps between the boards.

The first step was to joint the edges so that they would be nice and straight. This picture might be a little confusing. I jointed the boards on edge, and then lay them flat to see how they fit. I wasn't using the #8 jointer to plane the faces (although I could have if I wanted to - "Breaking the law! Breaking the law!").


To make the T&G joints I used my Stanley #49. It has an eccentric swinging fence that allows it to cut both the tongue and the groove. Originally, it would have come with an extra wide iron for use on thicker boards. This would allow it to remove all the wood to the right of the tongue. I don't have that, so the extra "tongue" will have to be removed next. I wanted the tongue offset to the backside of the board thickness to allow room for forming a bead along the edge.


To remove the leftover wood, I used my small rabbet plane. I set it for a thicker shaving to speed things up.


Then it was time to make the side beads:


After that, I cleaned up the show faces with my #3 smoother. It's amazing how much better the wood looks after the scalloped machine planing marks are removed.


As a side note, it was while using those last four planes that I shot the images for the Planes and Shavings post.

This next sequence shows how I make my French cleats. It's funny, but I remember how much of a challenge this was the first time I had to do this after getting rid of all my power tools. I just didn't have my "hand tool brain" going strong yet. Really, it's quite simple and rather easy.

First, with a marking gauge set to the thickness of the board, I scribed a line down one face of the board. I also put pencil marks across the top to make it easier to see the bevel as it develops.


Then I remove the bulk of the waste with a drawknife. You could also do this with a scrub plane, or even a jack plane; but they would both be slower than the drawknife.


Finally, I cleaned things up with a jack plane. The secret is to keep the bevel developing evenly as you go. It's not hard once you get the knack, and you could do any bevel angle you want the same way.


After the bevel was complete, I attached the cleat to the top rear of the panel. I chose to use finish screws near the center of each board. I used a 1/4 inch forstner bit in my hand drill to create the counterbore (which I later plugged).


After boring pilot holes with another hand drill I drove the screws with a 6" swing brace. I love using these small braces for driving screws. They provide plenty of torque, are the original "variable speed" driver, and have a great sense of feedback that beats any cordless drill's clutch feature. The smaller size allows for quicker driving.

One problem I ran into was sinking the screws too deep for the driver bit to reach. I had to get creative. In the end, I filed off the tang on a triangular file until it matched the square driver hole in the screws, and then used a pair of Vise-Grips as a 90° handle. Worked great.


And here's the new panel in place; looking spiffy - but empty:


I spent the next few weeks making various holders for the saws. Nothing tricky, just a lot of finicky work getting the fit just right.


And here's the panel with the saws:



I quite like it - makes me happy every time I look at it. I'm also happy to be finished. It took a lot longer than I was planning.

Well, it's mostly finished anyway. I saved one spot next to the Lie-Nielsen dovetail saw for an old Disston dovetail saw I am going to finish fixing at some point. I started working on it over a year ago, but it turned into a disaster of saw plate flattening: "Just one more tap of the hammer... tap... hmm... maybe... tap... No!... Arrgh!" It's hopeless, and I'll need to completely replace the saw plate - later.

Saw Storage Upgrade

Recently I decided to change the way I store some of my saws. My old way was working fine, but I was ready for an upgrade that would make me happier. First let's look at how I had been doing things.

I organize the saws in my shop into two groups: those used with the saw bench, and those used at the main workbench.

The first group live in my saw till:


I'm not going to change the till. I'm very happy with it. It hangs on the wall near my saw bench, and keeps the saws conveniently within reach. These are rip and cross cut hand saws. Why so many? Well, having various ppi, set, length etc. can sure add up. But honestly, I'd have to say that five of these saws handle some 95% of my work at the saw bench.

The second group of saws consists of cross cut and rip backsaws, dovetail saw, coping saws, a funky compass saw, hack saws, and some Japanese style pull saws and my turning and frame saw. Most of these saws hang on a wall panel at one end of my bench (the bow and frame saws hang on the wall next to the panel).

Here's a shot of the panel I've been using for years:


When I first decided to make the panels for tool storage in my shop, I went with peg board because I liked the idea of easily rearranging the tools as my collection grew. But I've always disliked the metal peg board hooks. I just don't like the way they look. So I made my own holding devices out of wood and attached them with screws from the back. The grid of holes made spacing and keeping things level easy.

Here's an image of the empty panel showing the various holding devices:


And here's a shot of the back showing the screws and washers:


This method has worked very well, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for an affordable, relatively pleasant looking, easy to build, customizable, tool storage system.

But the peg board had served its purpose. After years of use and adjustment, I knew what I wanted and how best to arrange it - for me it was time to move on. My new panel would be solid wood and much nicer to look at on a daily basis.

I'll talk about the new panel in my next post.

Kaija's Project

Over the holidays, my niece Kaija worked on a project in the shop. She made a "grease pot" a la Roy Underhill, although I don't think hers will hold tallow.

We pretty much followed Roy's method (which you can watch here) with a few minor changes. I made one as well, staying one step ahead, to use as a tester for problem solving. Kaija did all her own work and was a very fast learner. We had a blast - I can't wait to do it again!

I think I'll let the pictures tell the story (click for larger views):

Shop Apprentice

Well, I haven't been out in the shop much lately, but I did sign on an apprentice to help with the back-log of work.

Here he is organizing some scrap wood:


He's quite the quick study - giving orders already:

Curious Rabbet Plane

This funky little rabbet plane arrived in the mail the other day. I saw it last week on eBay, and though I really didn't need it, there was something quirky about it that I liked. So I put in a low ball bid and won.


The first thing I noticed when I got my hands on it was that not all the decorative surface line carvings were actually carved. Some of them were drawn on in ink. And some were actually joints in the wood. Huh?

A closer look revealed that the top was composed of three layers of wood laminated together. The center layer is an extension of the bottom of the plane. I don't think you can see that in the following pictures, so you're just going to have to trust me:




So the body of this plane is really made of six separate pieces of wood. The lower section with the attached upper center layer was cut into two parts to create the mortise for the iron. Then the two cheeks were attached and the two parts of the sole "boxing" were added. For some reason I thought laminated planes were a relatively new idea. Hmm.


I also discovered that the "boxing", which I first thought was purpleheart, was in fact some strange material. Bakelite? Masonite? I'm not sure.

Here are a couple of shots of the throat area of the plane. You can clearly see the glue lines where the separate pieces of wood (birch?) are laminated:



At 8 1/2" long, it's shorter than my other rabbet planes, but works great after I sharpened the iron. With no maker's mark or owner's marks, it's hard to judge the age. My feeling is that it is on the old side, although the laminated construction is confusing. All my other rabbet planes are made from a single piece of wood. But, I did just see another old rabbet plane on eBay which looked like it might also be of laminated construction (and it too had a "boxed" sole), so maybe laminated rabbet planes are an old tradition and I just never noticed them before? And I did see a plane with very similar surface markings that also had a "Germany" stamp on it, so maybe this is European?

Overall, it's a nice little plane that arouses my curiosity. Anyone have any insights or ideas on this? I'd love to hear them.

Two Gifts From the Shop

The last post focused on process, so to keep things fair this post will be all about product. Okay, fairness has nothing to do with it really - I was just so pressed for time finishing these gifts before Christmas that I didn't take a single picture of making them. In fact, I didn't take a picture of Rebecca's frame at all, but she graciously took a picture of it hanging on her living room wall down in Oregon.

Here it is:


It's an Oxford frame, and very similar to the one I posted about in the past. There are two differences: this frame has angled rail ends; and the cross-lap joints where offset so that the stiles project slightly. And yes, that's more oak salvaged from the library chair.

The second project was a trivet for my wife Celena:


And a detail shot:


While I did enjoy the shop time spent making these gifts, on these projects the final product was what it was all about. Which makes sense, since these were gifts, the recipients didn't really benefit directly from the process.

A New Post, Wherein;

~ Our narrator, succumbing to the vain allurements of folly and fashion, steps into frame ~ The gross effects of holiday overeating are revealed and laid bare for comments, criticisms and judgment ~ A new sawing technique is demonstrated for the first time (in these annals) ~ A brother, unspoiled by praise or blame, heroically takes up the camera and performs admirably ~ A stout oaken plank is bent to the will of the craftsman ~ A dogsled is returned to trail readiness ~ And - Only Hand Tools Are Used!

Umm...sorry. Got carried away there. A combination of Rex Beach's "The Silver Horde" (1909) and "Fifteen Thousand Useful Phrases" by Grenville Kleiser (1917). Dreadfully sorry. I shall endeavor to contain myself...

Earlier today I responded to a comment on a previous post where a reader had stated that I clearly enjoy all aspects of making something out of wood. I agreed, saying that sometimes I enjoy the process more than the product. This post is a perfect illustration of how the process can trump the product - which in this case was nothing more than a rectangular stick with a half-dozen holes drilled in it.

My brother Josh, a recreational dog musher, asked if I could help him fix one of his broken sleds, and I happily agreed. So, the week before Christmas, Josh and his daughter Kaija came over to visit the shop (Kaija actually had her own project to work on - but that's a future post). One of the oak sled stanchions had broken after an abrupt meeting with a spruce tree. Actually, it's more complicated than that, but Josh isn't here right now and that's my version of what happened.

Here's a shot of the part to be replaced:


Josh brought a lenght of oak that was just big enough to form the new stanchion. The main job here was ripping, so the trusty Disston D-8 was called for:



This was one awkward board to rip - hard to hold on the edge of the saw bench, and too narrow for the slot down the middle. I ended up starting it at an angle across the bench and had to stop frequently to readjust - and avoid cutting into the bench.


As I got closer to the end of the rip, I reverted to my normal stance. When discussing the use of this saw bench before, I've tried to describe this position in words, but a picture is better:


At the very end of the board a chunk had been cut out for some past project. The gauge line almost, but not quite intersected this void. Of course, I could have stopped ripping and just planed this slightly wider section down to the line, but where is the challenge in that? Time to put theoretical knowledge into practice! I decided to flip the saw around, sit on the board, and try my hand(s) at overhand ripping:


Hmm, I have been eating too much...

Anyway, it worked better than I would have guessed:


After that I cleaned up the rip and straightened the edge with a jointer plane.


Hey, isn't that a plump grizzly bear chowing down on an enormous cream cheese covered bagel on my shirt? Fitting - isn't it...

Josh provides the obligatory shavings shot:


I used an awl to transfer the holes from the existing part to the new one...


...and then bored the smaller holes with a hand drill...


...and the larger hole with a brace and bit:


After that it was just a matter of bolting it into place. Here's Josh working on that:


So, a thoroughly enjoyable process that yielded a completely mundane product. Cool.

Of course, when joined to its other mundane friends, that part becomes a sled capable of the extraordinary process of mushing. Hmm.