Coffee and Sawdust: My Journey Through the 2023 Woodworking Competition
You know, there’s something special about the smell of fresh-cut wood and the sound of a power saw humming away in the garage. It’s a mix of excitement and a little bit of dread, like when you’re at the top of a roller coaster waiting to plunge down. I had my share of that feeling during the 2023 woodworking competition. I won’t lie; it was a wild ride—a roller coaster of mistakes and small victories that I’m still trying to process over my morning coffee.
Now, I’m just a regular guy from a small town in Missouri. My shop is a cramped little space, barely bigger than a one-car garage, stuffed to the brim with a few mismatched tools and an ancient table saw I picked up from a yard sale. And when they announced the competition early in the year, I thought, why not? I had a piece of cherry wood sitting in the corner, just waiting for me to turn it into something more than a glorified dust collector.
The Big Idea—and Big Mistakes
So, I had this grand vision: a rocking chair that I could give to my niece for her birthday. She’s just getting to the age where she loves to be read to, and I thought, “How cool would it be for her to sit in something I made myself?” I could picture it, down to the last detail—the curves flowing like a gentle wave, the smooth finish glimmering in the afternoon light. But I had no idea what I was getting into.
I started laying out the cherry wood on my makeshift workbench, the grain swirled beautifully. But it turned out that the first cut would set me on a whole different path. I grabbed my circular saw—one of those cheap ones you get at the big box store—started cutting, and yikes! I didn’t realize just how tough cherry could be. Halfway through, the saw snagged, and I almost lost a finger! Okay, not literally, but it sure felt like it. I stepped back, breathing heavily, and thought, “What have I done?”
So, I put down the saw and picked up a glass of water to cool off. And I almost gave up right then and there. I mean, who was I kidding? An amateur, trying to craft a rocking chair for a competition? But something nudged me back to it. Maybe it was the thought of my niece swinging her little legs, the proud look on her face, or maybe it was sheer stubbornness?
Finding My Groove
After that close call, I switched gears. I dug through my collection of tools and settled on the jigsaw and a hand plane. Now, let me tell you, the sound of that jigsaw slicing through wood is like music. Once I got into a rhythm, it was almost meditative. You can lose yourself in that moment—sawdust swirling in the air, the smell like a sweet perfume. It felt good, and I was starting to regain my confidence.
But then, well, there was that time I thought I could skip sanding. Yeah, what a rookie move that was. I left the edges all rough and raw, thinking I’d just call it a rustic look. Spoiler alert: rustic only works if you intentionally aim for it. I slapped on a coat of stain, feeling pretty proud of myself, until I proudly unleashed it at the community fair. Standing there, showing off my creation, I couldn’t help but notice people squirming a little as they rubbed their hands on the edges—ouch! Lesson learned right there: sanding isn’t just for show; it’s for the actual experience of using the piece.
The Day of Reckoning
Fast forward to competition day, and I was a bundle of nerves. I lost track of how many cups of coffee I downed that morning. As I placed my rocking chair out for judgment, I felt that old familiar dread creep back in. But then something really unexpected happened. People started gathering around my piece; they were running their hands over the edges, smiling.
Honestly, I laughed when it actually worked. They liked it, flaws and all! Sure, it wasn’t perfect—there were some rough patches and spots where the stain didn’t take quite right—but the joy was in that shared moment. Folks relating to that little piece of wood I had poured my heart into.
The Takeaway
At the end of the day, the competition was less about winning and more about connecting with people who shared a passion, stumbling through a craft that—let’s be honest—can be full of ups and downs. I learned it’s okay to make mistakes. If you’re thinking about trying your hand at something, whether woodworking or something completely different, just go for it. You’ll mess up, no doubt. But in those mess-ups, you’ll find your groove, your joy, and maybe even a piece of yourself you didn’t know was there.
So, here’s to sawdust and coffee, knowing that the joys of woodworking—or any craft—come not just from the finished piece, but from the journey it takes to get there. Cheers to you and your next project!
