A Journey through Biesanz Woodworks: My Costa Rican Adventure
So, grab a cup of coffee and settle in. I’ve got a story for you—one that started in my little workshop and ended up taking me all the way to Costa Rica. That’s where Biesanz Woodworks comes in, and boy, it’s a tale.
Now, I’ve always had a knack for woodwork. In high school, I spent more time tinkering in Mr. Thompson’s shop class than I did in history. I carved my first goofy-looking birdhouse out of pine. The thing still sits in my backyard, crooked but charming. Over the years, I got into more serious stuff—furniture, cabinets, you name it. But I never really took it beyond a hobby until I stumbled upon the idea of importing some wood from Costa Rica. That’s where it all went sideways.
The Idea That Sparked Trouble
A friend of mine, Hank, went down to Costa Rica for vacation and came back raving about this beautiful wood he saw—a kind called “Guanacaste.” He said it was like a dream, the kind of stuff that would make your heart skip a beat when you ran your hands over it. So, I thought, why not bring some back and try my hand at something new?
I did a bit of research (which, let’s be honest, mostly meant scrolling through Pinterest) and found Biesanz Woodworks. They offered a variety of locally sourced woods. I thought, “This is it! I’ll create a coffee table worthy of my man cave.”
But let me tell you, getting that wood shipped here was more complicated than I anticipated. It’s not just about handing over some cash and waiting for a delivery. Nope. I had to deal with customs, regulations—it was a mess. Sometimes I felt like throwing in the towel. But the thought of that rich, golden wood kept me going.
The Delivery and the Smell of Success (Almost)
When the day finally came that a big, crate-sized box arrived at my house, I was ecstatic. I could smell the wood before I even got it open. You ever open a fresh pack of gum and get that burst of flavor? It was like that but way better—an earthy, warm scent that made me feel immediately connected to Costa Rica.
I tore into the crate like a kid on Christmas morning. The wood was breathtaking, each piece full of curly grain and those golden hues. I couldn’t wait to feel the smooth texture under my fingers as I ran my hand across the surface—honestly, it was everything I dreamed of.
The First Cut
Okay, this is where it got tricky. I fired up my trusty table saw, a good old Craftsman I bought when I was just starting out. But as soon as I made that first cut, let me tell you, my heart dropped. The wood splintered. It was like I was cutting concrete instead of the delicate grain I had seen in all those internet photos.
I almost gave up then and there. I thought maybe I wasn’t ready for “exotic” wood, that I should just stick to my pine and oak. But something inside me—maybe it was the spirit of Hank egging me on—told me to try again.
Trial and Error
So I went back to the drawing board. I had to rethink my approach. I watched a bunch of YouTube videos (hello, procrastination) and even called up a local woodworker for some advice. Turns out, you can’t just treat Guanacaste like your average wood. It needed specific tools and techniques.
After a few more mistakes and some swearing—got a lovely little “ouch” from a slip of the hand with a chisel—biting off more than I could chew became my norm. But every misstep taught me something. I learned to adjust my saw settings, to use a slower feed rate, and to have the right sandpaper on hand.
Ah, the sweet sound of that sander purring through the wood… It felt like I was finally getting somewhere. The wood transformed from a splintered ruin to this potential showpiece.
The Turning Point
But then came the day I thought it was actually working. I had been struggling with the finishing, knowing I wanted a natural oil to enhance the beauty of the wood rather than cover it up with a layer of gloss. I found some Tung oil, and oh boy, when I applied that stuff, it was like magic. The grain came alive, dancing under the oil as if it was proud to show off its history.
I laughed out loud, kinda like that “Eureka!” moment. All the trials and errors, sweat, and almost-giving-ups…it was finally coming together. I felt that warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you realize you’re close to success.
A Table to Remember
After countless hours, splinters, and enough wood dust to fill the local air filter, I finally finished the coffee table. It wasn’t perfect—no, no, not by a long shot. But it had character, and that meant more than any flawless piece of furniture could ever offer. You could sit down, put your feet up, and not just see craftsmanship but feel the story behind it.
Looking back, my experience with Biesanz Woodworks wasn’t just about the wood; it was about pushing through doubt and mistakes. Each time I almost threw my hands up, I got back to work.
So, if you’re sitting on the fence, contemplating a project that fills you with both excitement and dread, just go for it. You don’t have to be perfect. Just grab that chisel, learn as you go, and make something that tells your story. Trust me, you’ll feel like a million bucks when it all comes together—golden wood and all.
