After many customer requests, we have made a run of our Bayside hats in black with khaki piping and khaki embroidery of our logo.
These hats are unstructured, cotton, made in the United States and adjustable with a steel clasp. They are $17 and are available in our store here.
Dark hats such as these are ideal for hiding sweat stains (eww). Of course, they also absorb heat and make some people sweat a bit more – so they are great for the fall and winter. (Boy, I really know how to sell stuff don’t I?)
With the exhibit of the Studley Tool Chest and Workbench only nine months away (May 15-17, 2015, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa), I find myself fielding a lot of similar questions in email and conversations. So I took the time to create at Frequently Asked Questions compilation that I will put up on the website www.studleytoolchest.com (where you can get tickets) after this blog post at LAP runs its course.
— Don Williams
How did the exhibit for the Studley Tool Chest come about?
Two years ago while studying the chest in person for the forthcoming book “Virtuoso,” I interviewed the owner for background material for the manuscript. At one point I asked, “Do you ever think about exhibiting the chest?” He smiled and just said, “I probably should, shouldn’t I?” A year later we spoke again and he agreed for me to do it.
Why is the exhibit in Cedar Rapids, Iowa?
For starters, one of the requirements by the owner was that the exhibit, “Be nowhere close to where I live.” Cedar Rapids fits that description pretty well. Plus, when I visited Jameel and Father John Abraham after Handworks in May 2013, we were just brainstorming and agreed that they needed to organize Handworks II, and having a Studley Exhibit in Cedar Rapids concurrent with Handworks II (only 20 miles away in the Amana Colonies) would be a great idea.
Did you consider any other site for the exhibit? I mean, I’d never even heard of Cedar Rapids before.
Originally I scouted out the Rural Masonic Lodge in Quincy, Mass., because it was the home Lodge to Henry O. Studley. I even visited there last fall to explore the possibility. Four days later a catastrophic fire gutted the building, so that option was no longer on the table. The Scottish Rite Temple in Cedar Rapids is a spectacular site, and it will be the perfect venue. It was important to my vision to place the exhibit in an elegant Masonic building and one where the exhibit could be featured, not simply lost into a maze of a mega-programming institution. In the end I did not consider a huge city because I dislike cities. Well, I did think about Cincinnati, but is it really a city? Isn’t it more like a big town?
Why is the exhibit only three days long?
Much of that is simple practicality. My agreement with the chest’s owner requires me to be on-site with the exhibit all the time it is open to the public. Three days of the exhibit (plus at least three days of packing, shipping and installation on either side) was about all I think I could take. Besides, the host site is a busy place and I did not want to take a chance on not being able to have the exhibit there.
Are there any plans to extend the exhibit, or put it someplace closer to civilization if I can’t make it to Cedar Rapids for those three days?
No.
Why are tickets so expensive?
The answer is fairly straightforward. First, if you think the ticket price ($25) is high I guess you have never been to a good play or the ballet, or a ballgame (even minor league games cost more, once you factor in everything). Second, the ticket price is in fact a bare-bones reflection of the project’s budget. Feel free to price out the cost of a secured transport service to move around a collection like this, or the cost of insuring The Studley Tool Chest, or the fabrication of exhibit cases and platforms, or the rental and security of a prominent public building, or the theatrical lighting necessary… Best outcome? Every single ticket sells, and I will only be out almost a thousand hours donated for this labor of love. I would do this again in a heartbeat. Third, I wanted to make sure the visitor’s experience was amazing. Hence, the very few number of visitor slots.
What do you mean, “visitor experience” and “low visitor slots?”
My concept for this was to allow each visitor to get an in-depth exposure to the chest. So the exhibit will be quite spare, only four or five artifact stations, and each visitor will be in a 50-person group and spend 50 uninterrupted minutes with the exhibit. The docents and I will make sure everyone gets their turn to get as close as possible to the cabinet (about 4” to 6”). At the end of the 50 minutes each group will be ushered out and the Plexiglas vitrine housing the tool cabinet will be cleaned to remove any fingerprints, nose imprints and drool, so everything will be perfect for the next group.
Couldn’t you get some corporate sponsors to help cut the costs?
I did check into that, but the initial inquiries and responses led me to believe it was not a fruitful path. So I decided to take personal financial risk and pay for it entirely out of my own pocket.
So nobody is helping you?
A great many people have volunteered to help in ways large and small, ranging from web site development and maintenance, serving as docents, packing and setup/take-down crews. All tolled there are more than two dozen people involved, and all are donating their time and (for the most part) their out-of-pocket expenses.
Will you be mailing me my tickets?
No. The ticket purchases are recorded electronically. I will print the entire list out, then check you off the list and hand you your timed ticket when you check in at the Scottish Rite Temple. You will show it at the door of the exhibit hall and be ushered in. Just to make sure, it would be a good idea to bring your PayPal receipt with you just in case we miss something.
For most people, the phrase “tropical hardwoods” conjures up a fuzzy image of some faraway jungle-like scene, in sort of the way that we understand the origin of the food in our supermarkets (hint: it does not come prepackaged). In reality, of course, the tropics are a complex and diverse network of environments, and any specific wood that we might use comes from a similarly specific habitat. I recently returned from a trip to Peru, where I was able to photograph some of these habitats (some of the photos are from earlier trips to other areas in the New World tropics).
What I write about here is New World-specific, but is analogous in a general way to the African and Australasian tropics as well. The primary distinction is that the Neotropics are dominated by two geophysical features not found in the Old World: the Andes and the Amazon basin.
The climate of any particular region in the Neotropics is largely governed by two factors, rainfall and elevation (which in turn dictates temperatures). Rainfall generally increases from west to east, with western zones being somewhat to very dry, and with a distinct wet/dry season, and eastern zones being far more humid (and where “dry season” means “doesn’t necessarily rain every single day”). The extreme topography of the Andes creates numerous small-scale “mesohabitats,” and many species of flora and fauna are thus restricted to surprisingly small ranges. An example of this is the valley of the Río Marañon, which in some places is over twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. The valley is so deep, and the surrounding mountains create such a large rain-shadow effect, that the climate on the east slope of the valley is dramatically different from that on the west slope, only a few miles away.
Puna grassland at ca. 4600m (15,000ft) – the peaks in the background are nearly 6000m (19,000ft); near Abra Ticlio, Río Rimac drainage, Lima, Peru
Starting from the top: At the very highest elevations, above the snow line at approximately 5000m (16,000ft), there is no vegetation whatsoever. Immediately below that is the puna (dry western slopes) and páramo (wet eastern slopes). The air is always cool here, and it frequently dips below freezing at night. The temperature extremes and the lack of oxygen mean that the primary vegetation is bunchgrasses and small shrubs; the only trees are various species of Polylepis (there is no English name that I’m aware of; the most common Spanish name is queñoa, which looks like it is probably derived from a Quechua word).
Polylepis sp., probably P. incana or P. subsericans, at ca. 3400m (11,000ft); Río Rimac drainage, Lima, Peru
Polylepis is heavily exploited for firewood and for small items like tool handles. There are reports that it has been used in furniture making, but I haven’t seen any examples. I would guess from the looks of the trees that the wood is highly twisted and contorted. Overall, the puna habitat is surprisingly similar to that of the coastal chaparral in California, with many of the same kinds of plants: bunchgrasses, Baccharis and Lupinus shrubs, but with coast live oak (Quercus agrifolia) taking the place of Polylepis there.
Dry puna at 3600m (12,000ft) – you can see the beginnings of the cloud forest forming in the protected canyons; near Abra Calla Calla, Río Marañon drainage, Cajamarca, Peru
Below about 3700m (12,000ft), we start seeing signs of real forest. This is the beginning of the cloud forest that you’ve probably heard of. Even on the “dry” slopes the cloud forest is actually wet, but from fog more than from precipitation. Trees in the cloud forest are heavily festooned with bromeliads and lichens. The average tree is relatively small, but there are occasionally some giants. While the cloud forests are heavily exploited locally, very little of the wood is exported, and the local names are ones you’ve never heard of. I think this is because the extremely steep terrain combined with the relative sparseness of valuable trees makes any kind of commercial harvest impractical.
Cloud forest at 2400m (8,000ft) – everything is covered by epiphytes (even people, if they stand still too long); Abra Patricia reserve, Río Utcubamba drainage, Amazonas, PeruCloud forest microcosm at Abra Patricia – the orchid blossoms are about 10mm (3/8″) across; Río Utcubamba drainage, Amazonas, Peru
Woods of interest that come from the lower elevations of the cloud forests include Andean walnut (Juglans neotropica), an endangered species that is protected but still at risk because its wood is nearly indistinguishable from that of the more common Peruvian walnut (J. boliviana), and Spanish-cedar (Cedrela odorata). Some species of ipê (Hadroanthus sp., especially H. serratifolius, yellow ipê or lapacho) are also found here, although they are typically found in drier habitats.
Andean walnut (Juglans neotropica) growing along the Río Utcubamba near Leymebamba, about 45cm (18″) DBH; Río Utcubamba drainage, Amazonas, Peru
As we move further downslope into the foothill region (below about 1500m/5000ft), we start to see some dramatic differences between the dry and wet habitats. The dry zone becomes thorn forest; everything is covered with thorns to protect against browsing by herbivores. Thorn forest is very reminiscent of the Lower Rio Grande Valley in Texas. Although the trees are small, this is where some of the most valuable highly-figured woods come from, including cocobolo (Dalbergia retusa), ziricote (Cordia dodecandra) and bocote (several Cordia species).
Dry thorn forest at ca. 1200m (4,000ft); near Jaen, Río Marañon drainage, Cajamarca, PeruFoothill forest at ca. 700m (2,300ft); Braulio Carillo National Park, Río Sarapiquí drainage, Heredia, Costa Rica
The wetter slopes become dominated by numerous species of fig (Ficus sp.). Unfortunately from a woodworking point of view, the wood of most figs is soft and non-durable. To top it off, the latex exuded by the bark (a defense against insects) quite literally gums up the works when it is heated by the friction of cutting. You are also likely to see balsa (Ochroma pyramidale) here, especially as a fast-growing pioneer tree in disturbed areas.
This is also where that most important of drug plants, Coffea arabica, is cultivated.
Latex exuding from a fresh wound in a fig branch (I wonder how that wound got there?); semi-dry foothill forest near Moyobamba, Río Mayo drainage, San Martin, Peru
In the foothills, we begin to see many of the woods that are available commercially in quantity, although they don’t grow as large here as they do in the lowlands. The lowlands (below about 500m/1500ft) are broadly divided into terra firme (forest that normally does not flood) and várzea (forest that is flooded for a significant portion of the year). Várzea forest is generally not a source of commercial timber, but Spanish-cedar does grow there, and it is also home to that second-most-important of drug plants, Theobroma cacao. Terra firme forest is where we find the true forest giants, trees like big-leaf mahogany (Swietenia macrophylla), cumaru (Dipteryx odorata) and purpleheart (Peltogyne sp.).
Terra firme forest; near Pantiacolla lodge, Río Madre de Dios drainage, Madre de Dios, Peru
Two other Neotropic habitats that don’t fall into the high-to-low elevational sequence are worthy of mention: First up is the Pantanal, a unique wetland habitat in Brazil. Flooded for much of the year, it is mostly grassland, with trees growing on small “islands,” much like the mahogany hammocks of the Florida Everglades. Here and in the adjoining cerrado (a mixed grassland/shrubland savannah) is where most of the species of Hadroanthus commercially harvested and sold as ipê are found. Second, the Atlantic coastal forest of Brazil is one of the most seriously endangered of tropical habitats, and is where two of the rarest woods, pernambuco (Caesalpinia echinata) and Brazilian rosewood (Dalbergia nigra) occur.
Pink ipê (Handroanthus impetiginosus); Passo da Ema lodge, Pantanal, Matto Grosso, BrazilDeforestation in action – five years ago, this was all intact cloud forest; hillside near Laguna Pomacocha, Río Utcubamba drainage, Amazonas, Peru
Is a sustainable tropical forestry possible? In principle, yes. But there are serious obstacles. As many suppliers of tropical hardwoods point out, agriculture does far more damage to tropical forests than does logging. While this is generally true, it’s also misleading. Logging, along with other non-agricultural activities such as petroleum mining, requires roads. And any road in the tropics becomes, in effect, an invitation to would-be poachers and others to exploit the land. Without controls in place to protect lands after logging has taken place, they quickly becomes yet more cattle pasture or palm oil plantations.
Marvellous Spatuletail (Loddigesia mirabilis) with Sparkling Violetear (Colibri coruscans) in the background; Huembo reserve, Río Utcubamba drainage, Amazonas, Peru
ADDENDUM: As you have probably guessed, I didn’t travel to Peru just to take photos of trees. The primary purpose of our trips to the tropics (22 at last count) is to see birds. The same geological forces that lead to enormous diversity of flora do the same for fauna, and many species of birds are limited to relatively tiny ranges. The Marvellous Spatuletail shown here is restricted to the eastern slope of the Río Utcubamba watershed, 2100-2900m (7000-9000ft) elevation. The theoretical range is about 600 square miles, but for whatever reason the birds occupy only a fraction of that; the total population is believed to be fewer than 1000 individuals.
– Steve Schafer
EDIT: Finally figured out how to enable comments… –SS
Say you’ve found something great. It might be a reference in an obscure book, or some odd device you lucked into on eBay, or a damn good bottle of Calvados brandy – whatever. Your first thought is of the guy you want to show it to, to share it with, the one guy whose judgment and appreciation gives you the measure of all things. For me, that guy was Jay Gaynor, and I am so very sad to lose him.
Jay was more than the touchstone for us in historic trades. His joy was that free-yet-disciplined inquiry that held the doors open for his fellow explorers. He took risks with new ideas and worked to help them succeed if they stumbled at first. I personally owe him much for that.
Jay was the right man in the right place as the leader of Historic Trades at Colonial Williamsburg. Through tough times, Jay was the hub of the wheel that kept the program on the right path. Thoughtful with his responsibilities, it was always because he knew that playing by the rules made the game more fun for us all.
Some years back, I visited Jay at his house for a meeting on the Working Wood Conference. Covering the dining room table was his in-progress, scale model of a Higgins boat infantry landing craft! Certainly Jay was proud of his family members that served in World War II, but the broader truth is that he honored all honest, energetic endeavor. He lived in quiet awe of the best, creative works of mankind.
It is a lucky man who can have a model Higgins boat spread all over the dining room table for months at a time. The man who can do that and still share his life with a fine woman is doubly blessed. Jay’s partner in love and life, Jane Rees, made up a happy team. Her loss is greatest, but the rest of us carry no small share.
News of Jay’s passing came to me when I was in the company of a dozen other workers in wood. I shared the news with all, too stunned to know what to do. The silence was broken when of the men then raised his saw and said, “Then let us salute him on his way.” All the tools were raised then as they called out, “Bon voyage, mate!” and “To Jay!” into the air. In my mind’s eye, I saw Jay look back, and I do hope so much that I saw him smile.
I’ve seen wrought nails made by a blacksmith. Cut nails made by a steel-gobbling machine. And wire nails snipped from enormous coils. But I don’t think I’ve seen nails that have been “stamped.”
I think “stamped” is the right word. I could be wrong.
Paul Mayon of the New English Workshop procured these nails for the two tool chest classes I’m teaching at Warwickshire College this month. Paul looked for traditional clout nails like the ones made by Tremont in the United States, but he came up empty.
These stamped nails are unusual in they look to be die-cut from a sheet of steel, like a cookie cutter. So in one important way, they are much like a cut nail: In one dimension the point of the nail has parallel sides; in the other dimension the point is wedge-shaped.
However, the nails have not been run through a “header” machine, which is like a giant hammer that “upsets” the end of the nail to create a roundish head. This head is what gives clout nails (and other headed nails) their holding power when fastening backs and bottoms to cabinets and chests.
So the heads on these nails extend out in one dimension only. Also unusual: The heads have an additional miniature head on top. I assume that this little head allows you to set the head of the nail below the surface of the wood when using a nail set that is designed for wire nails (if so, it’s a clever idea and works).
In use, these nails seem to bite properly, and the heads deform the wood at times, much like the splintering you’ll get with clout nails. I have no idea how these stamped nails will hold over the long term – perhaps an English reader can let us know in the comments section below.
