A Slice of Life with Woodworkers of Denver Inc.
You know how life sometimes just throws you a curveball? Like you think you’ve got it all figured out, and then bam! Something comes along and humbles you. That’s how I felt the first time I tried my hand at woodworking with the crew over at Woodworkers of Denver Inc. I mean, who doesn’t appreciate a good piece of furniture? But making it? That’s a whole different ballgame.
The Invitation
It all started when my buddy Dave suggested I tag along to one of their weekend workshops. Now, I’m no stranger to using a drill or even sawing a piece of wood—heck, I’ve put together enough IKEA furniture to consider myself somewhat handy—but I never considered myself a real woodworker. I almost laughed when Dave first asked me. “You think I can sit in a room full of talented craftsmen?” I wondered. But natural curiosity got the best of me.
So, there I was, sipping my coffee and nervously tapping my foot. The smell of fresh pine filled the air as we walked into the place. You know that wood smell? Like when you’re at a lumberyard or a cozy cabin in the woods? That’s what hit me first. It felt…alive, like I was stepping into a different world.
First Mistakes
The instructor, a guy named Frank, had been at it for years. I’d never seen anyone handle a lathe with such finesse. Just a few minutes in, I was learning about different types of wood—oak, cherry, walnut. Each brought its own character when you worked it. I’d always thought it was mainly about aesthetic, you know? Turns out, every wood type feels different, smells different as you work it.
And boy did I learn that the hard way. The first project we were doing was a simple cutting board. Frank made it look so easy with that joyous, fluid rhythm. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I grabbed a piece of plywood instead of one of the nice hardwoods everyone else used. It was a disaster from the start. Imagine trying to make a tender, beautiful board with something that just splintered at the slightest touch. I could feel the eyes on me, quiet whispers of “who’s that guy?” floating through the air.
I almost gave up when I saw Dave’s piece—smooth and polished, glistening under the workshop lights. I thought, “What am I doing here?” But then, you know, there was that warm little rush of determination that crept in. This was a learning experience, right? I wasn’t just going to let some eighth-inch plywood defeat me.
Finding My Groove
Frank took pity on my plight and came over. “You’re not going to create a masterpiece today,” he said, chuckling softly, “but you can at least learn something.” He handed me a decent piece of maple and set me up with some proper tools—an old-fashioned hand plane and, oh man, this jewel of a chisel. There’s something so satisfying about hearing the chisel scrape and bite into the wood, almost like music.
As I worked the maple, the sounds shifted from frustrated squeaks and splinters to a rhythmic scraping that felt oddly meditative. There’s this distinct scent of fresh shavings mixed with sawdust—like a fragrant oak air freshener. It almost made me forget my earlier failings. Moments like that broke the pressure and taught me to embrace the joy of just being present in the work.
When I finally ran some finish over it—the minwax, a nice matte sheen—I almost laughed when I stepped back to look at it. I mean, sure it wasn’t going to win any awards, but there it was, my first real piece! I bemusedly named it “Oh-So-Okay.”
Community Vibes
The best part, though? It wasn’t just the wood or the satisfaction of creating something with my own hands. It was the camaraderie among fellow woodworkers. As I stood there finishing up, the guys were chuckling about their own missteps, sharing stories of how they messed up even more complex pieces. You know, it feels good to be in a space with folks who can be vulnerable about their challenges. Here I was sweating it over a cutting board, and they were talking about literally splintering a table leg or routing a corner wrong.
There’s an understanding that comes with woodworking. Everyone has their journey, their stumbles, and miscalculations. The sound of laughter and the smell of wood oil mix in the air made it feel like community. I know it sounds a bit sappy, but when you’re sanding down a surface together, you’re sharing pieces of yourself, and that’s pretty special.
Wrap-Up
So, I wish someone had told me to give woodworking a chance ages ago. If you’re sitting there wondering whether it’s worth it to dive into this world of sawdust and shavings, just go for it. It’s about more than the projects—I mean, yeah, your end result could be a great cutting board or even a cabinet in the future—but it’s truly the journey that takes the cake.
You’re going to mess up, and that’s okay. Those mistakes make you better. You’ll learn to embrace the imperfections because at the end of the day, they’re part of your story. You’ll build connections with folks who share the same passion and create something from nothing, even if that something is a lopsided cutting board named “Oh-So-Okay.”
So grab that saw and get to it; I promise you, you won’t regret it.
