The review of router tables and lifts in the Fine Woodworking Tools and Shops issue (#237, Winter 2014) prompted me to again think about the subject. I have to admit, after reading about all the nifty gadgets, I was tempted to complicate matters and foul up my happily working simple system, which is described here, here, and here.

Naaah.

I recently added a T-track system instead of F-clamps to lock the fence in place, and a while ago upgraded to heavy-duty locking casters, but otherwise the setup is the same. There is no removable plate, no router lift, no above-table height adjuster, no fence microadjuster, no miter gauge track, no above-table bit removal, and no insert rings. No shoes, no shirt, no problems.

So, how does this home grown model “Easy 2” stack up against the models reviewed in FW? Let’s look:

Price: At a total cost of about $180, which includes the extra Bosch base, the Easy 2 is $470 less than the “Best Value” and $920 less than the “Best Overall” system in the review.

Flatness: The E2 has an intended crown of .003″ over the full length of the table, and, owing to the lack of an insert ring, a deviation of less than .001″ in the critical area around the bit opening. This beats all the models tested with the possible exception of the Festool, which has a .002″ dip. I agree with the author that a slight crown is preferable to a dip. I disagree, however, that a dip as high as .030″ is acceptable for quality work.

The Big Easy achieves this fine accuracy by employing the wonderful flatness tolerance of stock MDF plus shims. Here is the undercarriage of the table with supports across the width of the table near the router base, along with blue tape shims, aka “microadjustments.”

Fence: The E2’s continuous fence is flat and square within .001″. A split-fence attachment is easily installed and removed with finger knobs.

Here is a rear view of the fence locking system:

Dust collection: With simple fittings available from Rockler, the E2 is probably as efficient as all of the tested models except the two with enclosures.

Bit height adjustment: The Bosch microadjustment dial easily allows at least .004″ adjustments with no discernible backlash using a dial that can be zeroed out at any time. Each of the easily visible increments on the black dial is equal to the thickness of a typical sheet of paper.

I do not have a device to measure vertical alignment as described in the article, but this is not likely to be a significant issue because the router base, which has been flattened on a granite surface plate using sandpaper, attaches directly to the MDF that is manufactured to excellent tolerances of flatness and thickness.

It is necessary to squat to reach under the table to attach the router motor and to make height adjustments. I do not mind a bit, but for those who prefer to avoid the latter, Bosch makes the router base usable with a simple hex key to allow height adjustments from above.

My intent is not to disparage the fine products reviewed in the article, but rather to demonstrate that there is a different, simpler way for those who might prefer. This router table system works – it allows me to build what I want.

[By the way, I disavow the detail in the plan drawing of the shop on page 58-59 of the same issue, which shows the woodworker’s router table with an insert plate and an insert ring. He also doesn’t own a two-wheel grinder and he wouldn’t lay a plane on its side. Nice shop though.]

Fellow craftspeople, shop dwellers, makers of things, maybe you can relate to this.

Tuesday afternoon was fun time at 13 years old. School let out at noon, and not long after, my friend and I would meet up at our fishing stream to catch sunfish, crappies, and perch. There was little art to it, just basic tackle, night crawlers, and red and white plastic bobbers. It was a decent way to spend youthful time.

My pal and I intermittently conjured ourselves to be real fishermen with serious skills, and more exotically, fly fishermen. We even earnestly tied a fair number of flies using some authentic materials, but with no real intent (or ability) to put them to use.

However, this kid stuff led me to borrow a book from the library that resonated so deeply with me that I never forgot it. A few years ago, while reminiscing about this, I used the internet along with a vague recollection of an oddity about the author’s name to locate a copy of Fly Fishing For Trout, by Richard Salmon, published in 1952.

As a young teen, it was my first encounter with the intricacies of how someone does something truly well, along with the driving passion. It stood in inspirational contrast to my naive efforts at fishing. I marveled at the author’s melding of scientific knowledge, meticulous attention to detail, and deep experience into superbly expert fishing skills. He described details of fish anatomy and physiology, subtleties of stream conditions, and nuances of equipment, all in the context of studied experience. This was serious stuff, even intimidating.

Perusing my copy now, I also appreciate the author’s peaceful, trusting tenor, and, nostalgically, the lack of today’s widespread ostentation.

I sensed then – and understand now – that this book reflected a deep desire in me – to simply do something very well. It is a joy for the soul to unboundedly immerse the mind, heart and hand in a meaningful pursuit.

No, I never took up fly fishing, but it sure is good to be in the woodshop.

From Richard Salmon, page 81: “For in fishing as in anything else, you must, if you are going to get results, have your heart in your work. The more joyous I am on a stream, the more enthusiastic, the heavier my creel. But to be happy and enthusiastic, I must believe in the fishing tools my hands control – must believe that I can work naturally, carefully, and well.”

Or a block plane? Answer: It’s out on the bench almost every time I’m working there. I don’t always know ahead of time what I’m going to use it for, but I know I am going to use it for something, and I know it will get the job done.

Really, this Bad Axe Hybrid Dovetail/Small Tenon saw is the most versatile backsaw I have ever used. The amazing aspect is not only how many tasks it can do, but how well it does them. It cuts wonderfully smoothly. For example, it is now my favorite saw for tenon shoulder cuts – a crucial crosscut, but it also does a nice job for small tenon cheeks – a rip cut.

Here are the specs of my saw, which I have been using for about three months: 12″ long, 0.020″ saw plate, 14 ppi, “hybrid” filing, depth under the back 2 1/2″ at the heel, tapering to 2 3/8″ at the toe. The hybrid filing is about 10° (negative) rake and 12.5° fleam. Remember ladies and gentlemen, BATW makes exquisite handles in a variety of woods in five sizes to fit your hand. As I have discussed in other posts, I also very much like the hang of BA saws.

This is the saw I recommend if you are working with small to moderate size projects and want to own only one backsaw that must be as versatile as possible but that will never be displaced by more specialized backsaws as you expand your tool kit. If you want to further specialize, Mark Harrell has a great offer to facilitate this (see the ninth paragraph down in the linked page).

There is a “soul” in these Bad Axe saws that I feel is very special. These tools improve my work.

There are excellent saw maintenance tutorials and learning materials on the BATW site. Mark also offers hands-on saw sharpening and maintenance seminars at BATW HQ that will doubtlessly take your skills to the way beyond.

One of the most difficult aspects of learning and refining craftsmanship is understanding and sensing when something is just enough and not too much.

Consider sharpening a plane blade: sharper is better, at least within a practical range. However, the camber in the edge is a subtle quality – too little and too much are both detrimental to function. The craftsman must understand the purpose of camber for the particular type of plane at hand, as well as have a visual and tactile sense of when the amount is good.

In drawer fitting, proper preparation of the carcass is essential to good results. For this, we must go beyond the simplistic idea that it should be as square as possible, if for no other reason than achieving perfectly square is impossible, and thus we must understand how to bias the imperfection.

It will be much easier to fit a fine drawer with a nice action if the carcass interior is a bit wider at the back than at the front. It must never narrow in width toward the back. Different carcass types – solid wood, frame and panel, a table with drawer guides, etc. – will dictate different ways to create this adjustment, but there is always a way.

We are faced with the matter of “a little bit.” It is sweet for a drawer, especially a smaller one, to have an easy pull to start, then tighten against the sides of the opening as it is almost fully withdrawn. Conversely, it is a sour drawer that gets pinched at the back as it is almost fully pushed in, while the front is excessively loose in its opening. It just doesn’t seem happy to be there.

In building a small jewelry chest of drawers with a solid wood carcass with an opening about 16″ wide and 11″ deep, I incorporated the necessary tweak by shooting the end grain of the top and bottom pieces slightly out of square. I would not normally measure the amount. Instead, I work by feel and eye to get a sense of just enough width that will allow the drawer to move unencumbered in its housing after an initial struggle to enter it.

“But Rob,” you say, “enough is enough already! How much?”

OK, OK, I measured it using shims. The sides are each out of square by about 0.007″ over the 11″ depth, for a total difference between the front and back interior width of just under 1/64″.

More important, I think that will be just enough but not too much.

Pictured above: a direct comparison between the front and back widths.

The teeth of a traditional woodworking float, very much unlike a rasp, span the full width of the tool. The cutting surface looks somewhat like a super-wide ripsaw. Iwasaki floats share some characteristics with traditional floats but have important differences in design.

These modern floats are remarkably smooth cutting and leave an amazingly smooth surface on the wood. They have almost no tendency to “catch” on the wood. They also allow great control to produce a true surface, such as in making fine adjustments to tenon cheeks. Aside from very hard steel and very sharp teeth, these floats have interesting features that contribute to their wonderful working properties. 

As you can see from the photos, unlike a traditional float, each tooth row is discontinuous across its width. Furthermore, each row is curved so that most of the cutting edges are presented to the wood at a skew to the length of the tool. Each gap in the row is followed by a cutting edge just behind it. In this way, these tools act similarly to a segmented spiral cutterhead in a thickness planer, which is also very smooth cutting and produces small shavings and tearout-free surfaces. 

This also helps reduce clogging in the floats. The wood that does accumulate in the grooves is easily cleared by tapping the tool or, more thoroughly, by brushing.

Click on the thumbnail (below) to see the macro photograph and note that below the leading faces of the teeth is a small curvilinear bump. This acts as a chipbreaker, further facilitating a smooth cut without tearout.

It is easy to get the feel of using these tools – use a firm but gentle approach to the wood. However, keep in mind that a skew is built in to the cutting edge. Since the tool is “pre-skewed,” your natural tendency to skew it as you would a rasp might work against you. If you use a skewed stroke, the actual presentation to the wood of one side of the tooth line is being less skewed and may tend to catch. The other side is being more skewed, and the tooth line may tend to slice along its length. This is more intuitive than it sounds and you will quickly work out an effective approach with the tool for the particular task at hand.

I’ve been using the 200 mm fine flat model for a few years now, and recently bought the coarse 10″ flat model. Even this, the coarsest grade, leaves a nice fine surface on the wood. The chamfer in the enlarged photo (below) is directly from this float.

Iwasaki floats come in coarse, medium, fine, and extra fine grades, and flat, half-round, round, curved, and plane maker’s models. Woodcraft, Lee Valley, The Best Things, and Highland Hardware have good, though different, selections. They’re a good buy.

Learning and laughing, I had a great time at WIA. Here are a few snapshots with preceding captions. A few closing thoughts follow the photos.

I spent much of the weekend hanging out with Mark Harrell of Bad Axe Tool Works, here demonstrating one of his superb backsaws. Looking on are Vic Tesolin of Lee Valley and Al Flink, a student of Mark’s who became my saw filing teacher for an afternoon. In the world of saws, BATW is playing chess while most are playing checkers.

The same goes for shooting boards and Vogt Tool Works. Tico has added to his line of inclined shooting boards with models designed specifically for new shooting planes available from Lee Valley and Lie-Nielsen. If you don’t already own a Vogt shooting board, you owe it to yourself to check out Tico’s products.

When Matt Vanderlist talks, woodworkers listen.

Speaking of great communicators, I asked Marc Spagnuolo to look as cool as possible for this photo. Yes, I know, that’s like asking Kareem Abdul Jabbar to look tall. The Wood Whisperer met my request with his ready sense of humor.

Popular Woodworking magazine Editor Megan Fitzpatrick and I, your devoted scribe, made a deal, or so I thought, to look as sappy as possible for this shot. Megan, no doubt quickly bringing to mind some Shakespearean plot, opted to appear quite levelheaded, while I succeeded rather spectacularly with the original plan – don’t you think?

I will not reveal what Chris Schwarz did moments before this shot, but only say that he switched the anatomical focus of his jocularity from his customary posterior to anterior just in time for the photo. (No, he’s not adjusting the square on his shirt.) Can you tell that Deneb Puchalski and Tom Lie-Nielsen are covering for Chris with forced laughter?

Seriously, it is hard to appreciate the beauty of the Lost Art Press books until you handle them in person. The same is so for the grace and functionality of Lie-Nielsen tools.

Recognize the guy in the middle?

Ron Hock of Hock Tools has done so much for woodworkers for many years.

Woodworkers are similarly grateful for the contributions of Joel Moskowitz of Tools for Working Wood and Gramercy Tools, here chatting with Fred West.

It was wonderful to be around so many people who love what they do, in this case, woodworking. The joy was palpable and contagious, while the learning flowed naturally. The direct link between action and result inherent in the craft of woodworking punishes pretension, so the down-to-earth nature endemic among woodworkers comes as no surprise.

I am grateful for the many conversations I was able to have with sincere, masterful makers. Some that I especially savored, such as with Mark Harrell of Bad Axe Tool Works, and Robin Lee of Lee Valley Tools, were alone worth the airfare. Thank you also to the many people whom I met who kindly mentioned their appreciation of my writings.

Special thanks to the Popular Woodworking crew for putting on a wonderful event!

This will start a few posts here on sawing tenons by hand, but first let’s first ponder the mortise and tenon joint in general. A joint that has been used successfully for thousands of years certainly deserves some thought.

What accounts for the joint’s legendary strength? Imagine trying to snap an “L”-shaped M&T construction. The mechanical lock of the tenon shoulders meeting the wood surface around the mouth of the mortise effectively transfers the imposed stress to the glued surfaces of the tenon cheeks against the mortise walls.

The stress on the glued surfaces, in turn, is a shear stress – and we know how wonderfully glued wood surfaces resist shear stress. Voila: a strong joint!

In fact, rarely will a reasonably made M&T joint itself fail. Rather, it is the wood around the joint that is more likely to give way.

Looking at the mortise and tenon strength tests detailed in Fine Woodworking magazine issue#203 (February 2009), we can see that it is almost always the wood around the mortise that failed, even when the tenon itself was too weak to hold up. In the real world, I cannot recall seeing any decently made tenon break, but I have seen the wood around the mortise fail.

I also observe that the only real danger to a tenon pulling out in a properly made joint is from the all-powerful forces of hygroscopic wood movement conflict. This may produce some gapping at the shoulder line, especially in injudiciously designed joints.

In most woodworking instruction, much attention is paid to proportioning the thickness of the tenon with respect to the thickness of the rail. Recommendations are typically that the tenon should be 1/3 – 1/2 as thick as the rail itself.

Yet, knowing from where the M&T derives its strength and how it is capable of failing, it behooves us to look at the proportions of the joint as a whole:

• Especially consider the robustness of the wood surrounding the mortise.
• Consider the area of shear-stress glue surface – the tenon cheeks.
• Consider the nature of the dimensional conflict within the joint. The corollary here is that glues with a bit of give, like PVAs, have an advantage.

One more possible consideration is the lever arm force exerted on the stile (mortise member) by the tenon. In the FW article, look at how the humble stub-tenon and biscuit joints failed: the stile split along the grain near the end of the tenon depth. That’s a lot harder to do with a deeper tenon where the leverage works out to be not as lopsided, and the tenon engages more peri-mortise wood, not to mention the direct value of the greater glue surface area.

I hope, readers, you are not now expecting me to delineate a set of rules for proportioning a good M&T joint. Sorry, there are simply too many construction situations and circumstances. However, thinking clearly about what is going on in the joint and the considerations listed above should bring you to good joint designs. Furthermore, frankly, there is a good amount of slack here – even non-ideal but more-or-less reasonably designed M&Ts will hold up.

But don’t make a sturdy 3/8″ thick tenon to sit in a mortise with a 1/8″ outside wall!

Coming up: sawing tenons by hand, starting with sensible joint layout.

Take a look at two lists: the Speakers and the Toolmakers who will be at WIA.

Every woodworker can learn plenty from that bunch. In fact, we can probably learn just by breathing the air at WIA. I’m only half kidding: seeing Mary May in person carving oak leaves, and hearing Silas Kopf discuss where design ideas come from, to cite just a couple of examples among the classes, are sure to elevate my skills and confidence.

Browsing the toolmakers’ booths is going to be fun – handling and trying out fantastic tools cannot be done online. Yes, this is dangerous territory, especially if your credit card is handy, but as a woodworker, isn’t that just the kind of living on the edge that you crave?

Exchanging ideas about tool design with these outstanding makers will be just as enjoyable. My first mission will be a reconnaissance op to the Bad Axe Tool Works bunker and Col. (Ret.) Mark Harrell.

Heartwood readers, I cannot think of any better or more enjoyable way to improve your woodworking skills, knowledge, and perspective than to visit WIA and hang out with lots of people who share our passion for the craft. I hope to see you there!