The Journey with My Router: Mistakes, Triumphs, and a Whole Lot of Sawdust
So, picture this: me, sitting in my little garage turned workshop, coffee cooling on the table beside me, and the smell of freshly cut wood wafting through the air. I’ve got my old Craftsman router humming away, and in all honesty, I’m feeling like a master carpenter and a bumbling fool all at once.
You see, I never intended to get so tangled up in woodworking. I just wanted to build a bookshelf, something simple. But as with many things in life, simple turned into a good two-week dive down the rabbit hole of all things router-related. I’ll spare you all the details of my chaotic journey, but I want to share where things went hilariously wrong—and a few moments where, against all odds, it actually came together.
The Learning Curve
When I first got my router, I thought, “How hard can it be?” What I underestimated was the sheer number of attachments and bits and tips swirling out there in the woodworking world. I remember standing at the store, staring at the vast display of router bits like a deer caught in headlights. There were bits for everything under the sun! Straight edge bits, roundover bits, flush trim bits—we’re not even getting into the fancy ones for dados or grooves. I ended up grabbing a basic set thinking, “This will do.”
Big mistake.
The first few times, I was like a toddler trying to tie my shoes. My confidence came crashing down quicker than my first edge-milling attempt, where I somehow managed to gouge the wood rather than create a smooth edge. And good grief, the sound. If you’ve never heard a router whip through pine and come to a sudden halt against a hidden knot, let me tell you: it’s not a delightful symphony. It’s more of a “What did I just do?” kind of moment.
By the time I realized the problem was the bit itself—not my skills, oh no—I was well into an existential crisis about just how organized this woodshop endeavor would actually turn out to be.
The Froggy Mistake
Then there was this one project—the infamous “Frog Table.” Yeah, I know it sounds odd, but I figured I’d craft a cute little table for my kids, you know? I drew up some plans (well, more like a napkin sketch over breakfast), got some pine from the local lumber yard, and started cutting. That was the easy part.
My kiddo decided this table should look like a frog. Naturally, I figured I could round the edges and somehow bring the vision to life. I thought I could use my round-over bit to give those edges a nice finish. Well… spoiler alert! I didn’t account for the depth at which I was routing.
Suffice it to say, my idea of a frog turned out looking more like a lumpy pancake. I almost gave up at this moment. I stood there, hands on my hips, staring at what I can only describe as an abomination of woodworking attempts. My wife walked in, wasted no time, and burst out laughing. Fortunately, she has a sense of humor, and we all need that support, don’t we?
So what did I do? Instead of tossing the entire project, I decided to embrace it. I added googly eyes and called it “Froggie the Table.”
Discovering Perfection In Imperfection
Eventually, I did get into a groove—literally and figuratively. Turns out, a bit of practice goes a long way. I had my victories too, like when I finally managed to create a perfectly smooth edge with a chamfer bit on my second attempt. The sound of that router running smoothly and the smell of the wood is, well, intoxicating. It was like the universe whispered, “See? You’re getting the hang of this!”
There’s something so satisfying about taking a piece of raw, almost lifeless wood and transforming it into something that has a sense of character. Creating those details—it feels like breathing life into the wood. Plus, I learned something important: scale back your ambitions a bit. Not every project needs to be the next big thing. Sometimes just making something that works—and looks good enough—is more than enough.
Small Wins, Lasting Lessons
But really, at the heart of it all, woodworking is about enjoying the process as much as the end result, right? I think about those late evenings spent sanding or buffing out the edges while kids are nestled in bed and the world quiets down outside. Those become meditative moments. And, you know what? Each little project gets you a step closer to something greater.
If you decide to pick up a router—and I hope you do!—don’t get too hung up on perfection. I wish someone had clued me in on this earlier. You might mess up a few times, and it’ll get frustrating. Just laugh it off, embrace the goofs, and know that you’re creating something from your hands. That’s where the real magic lies.
So, grab your coffee, a bit of wood, and take a leap. You might just surprise yourself.
