A Little Story about a Straight Adze and Some Good Old Wood
You know, there’s something about the smell of freshly cut wood. It’s like this old friend you forgot you needed until you take that first whiff and suddenly you’re transported back to simpler days. I was sitting on my back porch the other afternoon, coffee in hand, minding my own business when I caught that scent from my workshop. It reminded me of this one time I decided to give woodcarving a shot. I had bought this straight adze on a whim — let me tell you, it was a real turning point in my woodworking "career," if you want to call it that.
Now, the adze, for those who aren’t familiar, is that funky-looking tool with a blade that sits at a right angle to the handle. It’s made for hollowing out wood; people use it to make all sorts of things like bowls, canoe paddles, you name it. I’ve seen a few videos on it, thought, “How hard can it be?” And, well, you know where that story goes.
The Quest for the Perfect Wood
First things first, I had to find the right wood. Pine seemed too soft; I was dreaming of something that would hold its shape but still be forgiving enough for a novice like me. I ended up settling on a chunk of cherry wood. Heaven help me, I was smitten. The color, that rich, warm hue — I could already imagine the finished product gleaming in the sunlight. Little did I know, I was in over my head.
So there I was, in my garage, surrounded by my not-so-mighty collection of tools: a cheap miter saw, an even cheaper hand plane that had seen better days, and the straight adze, which I was just itching to break in. I remember picking it up for the first time, the handle felt comfy, like a handshake with an old pal. I didn’t have gloves on, and boy, that wooden handle was slick with all that varnish.
Hitting the Wood and, Well, Not Much Else
I set the cherry block on the workbench, took a deep breath, and swung the adze. Or maybe I should say I missed the wood. The first hit went smoother than I thought it would — you could hear that satisfying “thunk” as the blade bit into the grain. For a hot second, I felt like a pro, like I was channeling some ancient craftsman, skills honed through generations. But then, oh boy, did reality hit.
After my initial burst of enthusiasm, I hit a snag. I didn’t realize how much strength I’d need. I swung a little too hard, the blade snagged, and, to my horror, it glanced off the wood and zoomed right into the side of the workbench. Yup, I was already one swing in and about to make my family’s garage the proud owner of a new gouge. That sinking feeling in my stomach, like when you get a flat tire on a road trip — yeah, I was there.
I almost threw in the towel then and there. I sat down and took a sip of my lukewarm coffee, ready to pack everything up and call it a day. But then I looked at that gorgeous cherry wood, and I couldn’t just give up on it. I mean, it was practically begging for attention.
Getting My Groove Back
Long story short, I decided to try again. This time, I focused less on brute force and more on technique. I started with smaller, lighter strikes and adjusted my grip on the adze, finding that sweet spot where the tool felt like an extension of my arm rather than a heavyweight champion in a boxing ring. And wouldn’t you know, things began to change. I started to feel that subtle thrill — the tool really slicing through the wood, those lovely long shavings curling away.
As I worked, it was like I could hear the wood talking to me — whispering its secrets. I still recall that satisfying sound of the blade gliding through the grain, a soft “shh” that filled the garage. It made the whole endeavor feel relaxing, almost meditative. Every now and then, I’d stop, wipe the sweat off my forehead, and admire the swaths of beautiful cherry flaking off. I couldn’t help but smile.
A Whoops Moment
Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. At one point, I got overconfident and tried to carve out a deep groove for a bowl I was making. That was my undoing. The adze caught just the wrong way, and the entire side of my project caved in like a bad soufflé. I laughed when it actually happened, you know? Nothing else to do but acknowledge that I was getting ahead of myself.
But hey, it’s all part of the journey, right? That chunky, beautiful piece of cherry wood became a metaphor for life for me: sometimes it’s just ugly rough edges that need to be smoothed out. I took that unfortunate mishap and turned it into a new project — a cutting board, because, let’s face it, everybody eats.
The Heart of the Matter
If there’s anything I learned throughout this little adventure, it’s to take your time and not underestimate the beauty of the mistakes you make. For me, woodworking isn’t just about the final piece you create; it’s about the process, the lessons learned, and those quiet moments of triumph, like when everything finally falls into place and you look at your work and think, “Hey, I made something real.”
So, if you’re thinking about picking up a straight adze, or even just dabbling in woodworking, just dive in. Don’t fret too much about whether you’ll get it right on the first swing. You probably won’t — and that’s okay. It’s about getting your hands dirty, making those mistakes, and enjoying every bit of the journey. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.
