Chopping Wood and Finding My Way
You know, there’s something about a woodworker’s axe that really gets to me—maybe it’s that raw simplicity or the promise of turning something wild into something useful. I remember the first time I tried to use one, back in my old garage. The scent of fresh-cut wood still hangs in my mind, mingling with the coffee I had brewing in my old Mr. Coffee machine—the kind that sputters and gurgles like it’s got a personality of its own.
You see, there was this day last spring. I had some hickory lumber I was itching to turn into a cutting board. Hickory’s got that unmistakable smell, kind of sweet but also a little nutty. It’s like the wood’s got its own story to tell. So there I am, sauntering out to the garage, ready to flex my woodworking muscles. I had my trusty axe, a classic one from Estwing. I mean, it feels like it’s got history—the leather grip warm in my hand. Just beautiful.
But man, I learned quickly that a woodworker’s axe isn’t a magic wand. It won’t just turn your log into a masterpiece with a couple of swings. There’s a dance to it. Yeah, I like to think of it that way—like, if you’re not in rhythm with the wood, things can go sideways real fast.
The First Attempts
So I start chopping away at this hickory log I’d found out behind my buddy’s house. It was a bit rough around the edges, full of knots and imperfections. I thought, "No problem! I can work with this. Just one solid swing at a time!" I’m telling you, by the third swing, I was struggling to find that perfect angle. The sound of the axe hitting the wood wasn’t that satisfying, more like a thud. And I could feel my ego starting to chip away—no pun intended.
It’s funny, thinking back on it. I almost gave up when, in my frustration, I swung it a little too hard. I missed the mark entirely and ended up hitting my foot. Oh man, that hurt, but it was also a wake-up call. If I couldn’t handle a simple hickory log, then maybe I should step back, rethink my approach.
Trial and Error
So, I did just that. I took a break, let the smell of the wood and that fresh coffee revive my spirits. Sat on my old saw horse for a bit—one of those things where you feel like you’re in a scene from an old Western, just waiting for something to happen.
I thought about how I’d watched my grandfather chop wood when I was a kid. He had this grace, not a hint of that amateur ferocity I was showing. I could almost hear him chuckling at my overzealousness. So, I went back to it, but this time, I slowed down. Focused on the angle, the swing, how the axe felt in my hand.
That’s when—believe it or not—I actually found my groove. The sound shifted from a thud to a satisfying split. My heart jumped. I laughed out loud, probably sounding like a lunatic out there in the garage, but I didn’t care. It was like a switch flipped.
The Final Product
After what felt like hours—okay, maybe it really was hours—I had enough of that hickory chopped down to size. The chunks of wood piled up in my garage, still smelling fresh and bright. The best part? I hadn’t given up. I stripped those pieces down, sanded them till they gleamed, and eventually, they turned into what I thought was a pretty decent cutting board.
You know, every time I looked at that board, I didn’t just see wood. I saw that moment when I almost threw in the towel, that moment when it all came together unexpectedly. It was a mix of sweat, smell, and just pure stubbornness.
Looking Back
Sure, I made mistakes—like the time I tried using the axe upside down and nearly brought down a whole pile of wood. But looking back, those mistakes were kinda the best parts. They remind me that every swing, every missed mark, is just part of the learning curve.
So here I sit, sharing my coffee and my stories because they matter. If you’re out there thinking about trying to use an axe, or do some woodworking, please—just go for it. Don’t let those first mistakes stop you. I wish someone had told me that earlier. Trust me, you might surprise yourself with what you can do when you just slow down and feel it out.
Anyway, that hickory cutting board? Still sitting proudly on my kitchen counter, serving up meals and memories. And the axe? Definitely getting more use—I’ve got plenty of hickory still out back, just waiting to be turned into something beautiful.
