Put Lerch's Green River in the vise and test it for durability before you go any further. Still got that 3 lb sledge?
Put Lerch's Green River in the vise and test it for durability before you go any further. Still got that 3 lb sledge?
"I swear by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine." - John Galt
Oh yes, now i see it. I thought the little square was G10 but it's brass.
Thanks.
Aparrently someone hasn't taken their meds todayOriginally Posted by Adam
........Uncas
" The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne " Geoffrey Chaucer
One of the plain coolest threads here :thumbup:
sent from my dumb phone.
My Woodcrafting Hobbyist Thread: http://bushcraftusa.com/forum/showth...Devon-Woodwork
Wanna see a grown man weep?
Romans 8:31 †
"Most men take the straight and narrow. A few take the road less traveled. I chose to cut through the woods." Unknown
Pipe Smoker
Who's the grown man? We don't get many of them in this subforum
Haha. Quoted for truth.Who's the grown man? We don't get many of them in this subforum
The nuts have taken over the asylum.
Romans 10:9
Turley Knives web site
Remember the birds
youtube channel
Turley Knives sub-forum
"See the High Priest He took my place, when the Judge looks at me He sees His Son's face." -16 Horsepower
Ok. Pretty much done, just gotta clean 'em up and take pictures.
Yesterday and today combined in this post.
Some of them glued up
And pretty much done.
Thanks for looking.
Romans 10:9
Turley Knives web site
Remember the birds
youtube channel
Turley Knives sub-forum
"See the High Priest He took my place, when the Judge looks at me He sees His Son's face." -16 Horsepower
Really like the looks on the one on the middle of the left side there...not sure of all your model names. Looking great man!
sent from my dumb phone.
My Woodcrafting Hobbyist Thread: http://bushcraftusa.com/forum/showth...Devon-Woodwork
Great looking batch, Lerch's is looking good. He wanted you to just send it to me. You have been busy the last day or two.
Fragrant little chips of history spewed from the saw cut, and accumulated on the snow before each kneeling sawyer. We sensed that these two piles of sawdust were something more than wood: that they were the interfered transect of a century; that our saw was biting its way, stroke by stroke, decade by decade, into chronology of a lifetime, written in concentric annual rings of good oak.
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