Coffee and Sawdust: My Adventures at the Las Vegas Woodworking Show 2023
So, picture this: I’m sitting in my small-town kitchen, the sun peeking through the curtains, a steaming cup of black coffee in front of me, and I’m ready to spill the beans about my recent adventure at the Las Vegas Woodworking Show. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I mean, I’ve been tinkering away in my garage for years—some days it’s more successful than others, and let’s be real, many times I’ve considered throwing in the towel and just taking up knitting or something.
When the opportunity to go to Vegas popped up, I figured, why not? I’ve read about woodworking shows in magazines, and thought it could be an experience. Little did I know, I was about to be slapped in the face with a reality check about my skills and a whole lot of inspiration.
The Journey
Now, I hopped on my old pickup, my mind racing from the thought of the many vendors, the tools, and the classes I might get to see. It’s about a six-hour drive from my little town to Las Vegas. There’s something therapeutic about driving long distances, just you, the road, and the thoughts swirling around in your head. Halfway through, I was already second-guessing myself. What if I didn’t fit in? What if I blurt out something ridiculous at a booth?
But hey, I had my trusty tools in the back—a DeWalt miter saw, a couple of clamps, and enough scrap oak to build a small barn if I ever felt up to it, which I probably would. At that moment, the smell of sawdust and fresh coffee filled my mind, feeding my excitement and anxiety at the same time.
The Experience
The Las Vegas Woodworking Show was unbelievable, y’all. I walked in and it was like stepping into a different world. The sights and sounds were overwhelming—the whir of machines, the smell of fresh-cut wood, and the chatter of fellow woodworkers sharing tips and tricks. I thought I was looking for new tools, but what I really found was a community.
I wandered over to this booth showcasing this fancy new jointer from Powermatic—man, that thing could slice through wood like butter. I swear, I was practically drooling. The salesman was super enthusiastic, and I couldn’t help but get caught up in it. He was talking about how precise it was and how it could make edge-jointing as easy as pie. I’ll admit, I almost bought it right then and there on the spot. But I took a step back. All I could think about was my tiny garage and how cluttered it already was.
That’s when I spotted a guy—looked about my age—sawing away at something. Didn’t have a fancy tool in sight, just an old bandsaw and some reclaimed wood. His project? A beautiful coffee table that had knots and imperfections, but was so full of character. I chatted with him for a while and learned that sometimes the best projects come with those quirks. He told me about a table he tried to make once and it ended up leaning like the Tower of Pisa. He laughed it off, and I thought, “I can relate.”
Lessons Learned
Now, here’s where it gets real. I had entered a couple of competitions before, and let me tell you, those experiences were…well, humbling. In one instance, I was super proud of this bookshelf I built, made with red oak and finished with a lovely polyurethane. I thought it looked great until I realized I had drilled the holes for the shelves too low. Like, way too low. Imagine a bookshelf where the top shelf is just a foot from the floor! I nearly gave up then and there. But talking with folks at the show reminded me that mistakes are just stepping stones.
I picked up little nuggets of wisdom here and there—go with the grain, don’t rush a finish, and sometimes a project is just about the journey. I watched demos on using a lathe, and they made it look so easy! But then I remembered my own struggle with a lathe. I had mangled a bowl so badly that it looked more like a fruit basket in a funhouse. But you know what? The laughter I shared with my neighbor at that moment was worth way more than the bowl itself.
The Last Day
As the show wrapped up, I found myself at this quiet corner where a couple of folks were discussing hand tools. My heart swelled as people gathered around, sharing stories about their first projects and failures. That was the magic of the place—the camaraderie. It reminded me that no matter where you are in your woodworking journey, it’s okay to mess up. We’re all just trying to build something, literally and figuratively.
As I drove back home, my heart felt lighter, and my head was brimming with ideas. Sure, I bought a new chisel or two—couldn’t help myself—but more than anything, I brought back a newfound perspective. It hit me that woodworking isn’t just about the end game; it’s about the creativity and community along the way.
Takeaway
So, if you’re hesitating about diving into a project or venturing to a show like this, just go for it. You’ll mess up. You’ll feel overwhelmed. But you’ll also find support, laughter, and maybe even a few new friends. The journey is messy, awkward, and beautiful—just like woodworking. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
