Woodworking Magazine Blog

Our new book, "The Workbench Design Book" is at the printer and will ship at the end of September. It's a 256-page behemoth – and more than half of it is all-new material that I've been writing since February.

Starting today, you can pre-order your copy at 20 percent off – $27.99 plus free domestic shipping – until the book arrives at our warehouse. Then it will go to its full retail price of $34.99 plus free domestic shipping. (By the way, this book won't be available at Amazon for several months. However, Lee Valley Tools will have it this fall.)

Of course, some of you are wondering why I would write a second book on workbenches. So I've included the introduction to the new book below, which explains the book and its content. Also, for those of you who asked, this book is being produced, printed and bound in the United States.

If you are ready to order, you can jump to our store here. Otherwise, read on:

I've been getting questions almost daily about the 18th-century French-style workbench I built for the cover of the August 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking Magazine. The questions go something like this:

1. Has the benchtop exploded into pieces yet, you dufus?

2. Has the epoxy shattered?

3. How are your chiropractic bills with that leg vise?

Nor is it about the workbench. It's about my sawbenches. During every project I wonder how I ever got by without them. Like Tonya Harding, I think there's something special about the kneecap height.

— Christopher Schwarz

We've been testing the Veritas Quick-release Sliding Tail Vise for several months now and have been keeping as mum as possible. Now I can break my mum-ness and discuss this interesting piece of new bench hardware.

The idea is simple: Put a traditional European tail vise and a machinist's quick-release vise into a tropical hotel with an ocean view. Open the mini bar. Order room service.

Today we finalized the design for a nice poster that features the famous plate 11 from Andre Roubo's woodworking masterwork. The poster (redheads not included) will be ready for sale (on very nice paper) at Woodworking in America. It also will be available for sale in our store.

Plate 11, for those of you just joining us, shows one of Roubo's designs for workbenches, plus a scene from a French joinery shop. Some of the tools in the plate are not to scale, but the detail is tremendous and the lessons are there for you to decipher.

We're still working out pricing (should be about $20), and some other details. But here's a shot of the prototype with Linda (hiding behind the poster) and Megan (not hiding).

— Christopher Schwarz

Last month we showed you a preview of Len Hovarter's interesting twin-screw vise (check out that entry here and see a video). Today Hovarter's web site went live and is offering a $25 discount for pre-orders before Sept. 15.

I like reading about workbench patents as much as I like movies about gladiators (which is a lot).

So here's how to prove your bench geekiness, and it won't cost a penny (except for the bandwidth). Jeff Burks has compiled almost 2,000 pages of United States patent papers and drawings related to workbenches and workholding between 1845 and 1960. The patents are arranged chonologically in a .pdf file, which has some basic bookmarks and is somewhat searchable using Acrobat's "find" feature.

There are few things I dislike more than seeing myself in video. I'm one of those guys who has a face for radio. And when I talk, I move my hands in a way that looks like I am giving myself an erotic chest massage.

But readers have asked – insisted even – that we provide video instruction for things that are difficult to show with words and still photos. So I've swallowed my discomfort – hard.

For more than three months, Glen D. Huey and Drew DePenning filmed me as I was building the workbench shown on the cover of the August 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking Magazine. Nothing was faked or set up for the cameras. It was just me working, Glen filming, me sweating and Glen chuckling.

In all, we recorded more than 40 hours of video, which Drew has been distilling into a compact narrative that explains in the most succinct terms possible how to build this bench using hand tools. We were able to greatly condense the story of building the bench by almost eliminating the "talking head" part of woodworking videos (a crime of which I am guilty on occasion).

Instead, most of the video is of me working with narration layered over the video. In film, narration is a "cheap plot device," according to one of my favorite film professors. But I think it works here.

In addition to the video, the DVD has some extras that you will find useful.

• There is the complete story from the August 2010 issue with the cutting list and construction drawings, plus two additional views of the leg joinery.

• An extensive slideshow that contains more than 80 images – many of them unpublished. This shows you nitty-gritty details in high resolution so you can study them.

• SketchUp files of the bench, plus two variants I worked on and a SketchUp file that shows you how I took Roubo's image of the leg and transformed it into a real working joint.

I am very not displeased with this DVD – my highest praise for my own video work.

As of today, the DVD is now in stock in our warehouse and is shipping. The DVD is $24.99.

If you are considering buying it, would you do me a favor and use this link? They track this stuff, and thanks to you guys, I won $100 in beer money, which I plan to share with the entire staff.

And speaking of beer, I think my chest massage thing could perhaps become a drinking game for you and your woodworking buddies. You have to drink anytime I'm treating my chest like an old-fashioned radio. Or anytime I say the word "unit."

As always, thanks for your support. It's why I still get to work here and am not the "detail sander" editor.

— Christopher Schwarz

At high school reunions there's always the guy you don't recognize because he's gained 200 pounds and is nursing a spectacular goiter. This workbench is like that.

Eagle-eyed reader Andrew Midkiff sent in these photos of a workbench he spotted in a water-powered grist mill at the West Point of the Eno City Park in Durham, N.C.

The top is a huge slab. But what confused me at first was that the legs are attached to the top using giant, round through-tenons.

The cutting list for the 'The Return of Roubo' workbench in the August 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking Magazine has a small error in the cutting list. And I'd like to quickly clarify a couple things about the construction drawing.

Sorry for all the bench posts. (Hey, that should be the name of this blog.) I have a lot of extra jetsam (or is it flotsam?) sitting around as I crank out my next book. Here's an awesome piece of detritus.

A couple years ago a reader sent me a cardboard box containing two unused pieces of bench hardware – and the instructions! – from the Mechanical Manufacturing Co. One piece of hardware, a bench clamp, is stamped as patent pending (but I can't find a patent for it). The other gizmo, one of 10 billion bench hooks patented between 1854 and 1920, received a patent in 1910.

Michigan engineer Len Hovarter has developed a new vise mechanism that looks more like a magic trick than bench hardware.

The vise hardware is patent pending and should be available in September, Hovarter says. This hardware is just so cool, that I wanted to share it with you now – in case you are planning on building a bench this fall. I've ordered a set of the hardware from Hovarter, so I'll be testing the stuff myself. Until the hardware becomes commercially available, we'll just have to enjoy these photos and a short movie.

We need more workbenches for Woodworking in America. The event, Oct. 1-3 here in the Cincinnati area, is by far bigger than the last three events we've held.

And me, I'm going a little stir crazy. I've spent the last three weeks writing the remaining chapters to a follow-up book to "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use." (While my first workbench book is like the Old Testament, this new book – tentatively titled "The Workbench Design Book" – will be the New Testament. But more on that topic later.)

In any case, I am not getting enough time in the shop. So yesterday evening I was excited when a neighbor summoned me to his shop and pulled open a cardboard box.

I've always resisted adding wheels or a mobile base to my workbenches. They can be complex, in the way of your feet and take some fiddling to engage and disengage.

So we've always put our benches up on furniture dollys when we needed to move them.

However, readers have pestered me for years now for ideas on how to make their benches mobile.

This morning, Glen Huey, Megan Fitzpatrick and I went into rural Ohio to fetch some wood for a new workbench for Megan's study (it's long story; ask her).

Megan had scored some sweet Eastern white pine logs that were left over from building a log cabin; they were kiln dried, fairly clear and about 10 years old. All for $100. The only problem was that some were 17' long -- too long even for Glen's capacious lorry (as Megan would put it).

My latest DVD, "Build an 18th-century Workbench" is now available for pre-order in our store at a 15-percent discount until June 30 – $21.24 plus shipping.

As I was building the workbench that will be featured on the cover of the August 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking Magazine, Glen Huey and Drew DePenning spent hours in the shop filming the construction process during the three months I was working on the bench. (Note: I'm not slow. I just have a day job.)

Since I finished the bench, Drew has been condensing the footage into a short but information-packed video that shows the entire construction process from working the raw slabs of wood to mixing and applying the finish that I like to use on workbenches.

People often divide our country into North and South using a variety of metrics. There's the Mason-Dixon line, of course. The Barbecue Line (the word means "grilled meat" in the North and "porky heaven" in the South). And so on.

I use the "Yellow Pine Line." This fantastic material is difficult to find in many Northern climes, except as pressure-treated nastiness. And in the South, the stuff is so common that it grows on trees.

I think it's an ideal workbench material. It's cheap. It's stable. It's stiff. It's easy to flatten. It's available in wide widths. So it should come as no surprise that I get e-mails like this one from Paul:

I live in Aurora, Ill., a western Chicago suburb. It does not appear to be a location friendly to the Southern Yellow Pine that you've prized in earlier articles.  Home Depot/Lowe's/Menards all stock, at best, SPF...so I don't really know what I'm getting.

So now, the question – how might I best obtain woods with the density/strength that you recommend – in a land like mine that seems very un-woodworking friendly?

One note – one of your articles on Southern Yellow Pine suggested that, if it can't be found, that we take the pickup truck down to Cincinnati. Unfortunately, that won't be a good option for my Ford Taurus these days (though it would be fun to do).

I've thought of just dealing with the SPF that Home Depot offers, but I am afraid that I'd be disappointed with it in a year. I'd like my bench to last five, 10, or more years.

Well the easy answer would be to use "SPF" which is a grab-bag category for "spruce, pine or fir." It's certainly strong enough, though usually it's a little soft. And some places don't dry it as well as necessary. But the good news here is that you are actually close to the "Yellow Line." You don't have to come to Cincinnati to get Southern Yellow Pine. In fact, I know of some people in Chicago who have found it in the city at lumberyards (if you are out there, please chime in with the name of the yard!).

Even if you cannot find it in the city, you should be able to sneak over the border to Indiana and find some. It's amazing how the wood choices can change radically by changing your geography slightly

And finally, let me repeat something that I've said about 100 times about workbench materials: Almost any wood will do. Pick something that is readily available, inexpensive, dry and stiff. You'll be fine.

— Christopher Schwarz

Other Workbench Resources I Recommend

• Tim Celeski's excellent workbench site: workbenchdesign.net.

• I actually still like my book "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use."

• We have a nice and inexpensive CD of many of the workbench and shop plans we've published "The Best of Shops & Workbenches."

• Watch Roy Underhill's episodes (free!) where he builds a French bench.

This week we received a visit from James Travis, who built what could be the most ornate sawbench.

Travis, who is in his early 20s, was traveling through Cincinnati on his way from Boston to San Antonio, Texas, and dropped by the shop. Travis recently completed the "Three-month Furniture Making Intensive" program at the North Bennet Street School in Boston and was headed back to Texas to set up shop as a furniture designer and craftsman.

This is the last post on Joseph Moxon's double-screw vise. Promise.

Wednesday morning while I was in the shower, my brain clicked. (Hey! twice in one month!) On Tuesday, Glen Huey and I were discussing how to make a double-screw vise without a wood-threading kit. He suggested bolts. I suggested pipe clamps. We left it at that.

Then, at 5:15 a.m., the lukewarm water of our shower brought on this idea: F-style clamps. Everyone has them. So I scurried off to work and immediately began fussing with some poplar at my bench. I had a rear jaw and chop already prepared for threading. The holes were drilled, and the blank for the handles was waiting on the lathe.

Instead I took the poplar parts to the table saw and milled a 1/4"-wide groove in the ends of the rear jaw and the chop. Each groove intersected a hole and was just wide enough to accept the bar of an F-style clamp.

I slid two short F-style-clamps into the grooves and filled in the grooves with some poplar scraps (purple poplar – my personal favorite).

Does this vise work? Heck yes. And later that day Glen and Robert Lang and I came up with some other ways we could do this without permanently installing the F-style clamps. (However, I prefer it this way.)

The best thing was that making this twin-screw vise took – at most – 30 minutes.

Perhaps I should shower more often.

— Christopher Schwarz

Other Workbench Resources You Might Enjoy

• "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use." Now in its third printing.

•  "The Best of Shops & Workbenches" CD from Popular Woodworking.

• "The Workbench: How to Design or Modify a Bench for Efficient Use DVD" from Lie-Nielsen Toolworks

If a sliding deadman and a crochet got married and had a baby (well, actually if they had a litter), it might look like the workbench of Jan C. Goris of St. Louis, Mo.

Goris's pine workbench is based on the French Roubo-style platform, but it has some modern workholding touches that are worth examining.

Joseph Moxon I could kiss your dessicated worm-eaten corpse.

My newest version of the double-screw vise illustrated in Moxon's "Mechanick Exercises" (1678) is a complete success. The vise is simple – five pieces of wood. And the only special equipment you need to build it is a wooden threadbox and tap (a $45 investment). And it takes only about an hour to construct.

Threading and tapping wood is fairly easy work, once you get your thread box set up.

When I started here at the magazine in 1996, we had a bunch of threading kits sitting on a shelf. Like the handplanes next to them, they looked great in the background for photographs, but they didn't see much work.

As the finish was drying yesterday on my double-screw vise, I took a few minutes to turn a new handle for my bench screw, which pierces my crochet (which sounds dirty, but isn't really).

When I was a young nerdling, I loved the video game "Ultima" – not because of the raping and the pillaging, but because you spent most of your time exploring a huge map of the world. Everyplace on the map that you had never been was pitch black, lightening up only when you stepped foot into the unknown.

I think that's one of the reasons I like woodworking. My best days in the shop are when I'm trying to master something for the first time, or I'm exploring something I saw in an old woodworking book that didn't make sense and left me in the dark.

Chair classes are like soap operas. There are long periods where everything is reasonable and rational. And those are punctuated by brief forays into the bizarre, unreal or macabre.

As we close in on assembling our sack back chairs this week, several things are becoming obvious. First: With every minute that passes you are out further on a tightrope over the falls. One small slip, and you could bring the whole thing crashing down.

I'm starting to think that a bench crochet pierced by a screw is likely the great-grandpappy of the venerable shoulder vise – the favorite face vise of dovetailing demon Frank Klausz.

Sometimes I am so dense that it's a wonder that my parents ever allowed me to stop attending a Saturday school program for slow kids (true story).

Here's the nearly completed shot of the handmade Roubo workbench that will be on the cover of the August 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking Magazine. The only thing missing is me showing off a bit more sun-deprived flesh and a non-Botox pout -- look for that post tomorrow.

I finished up work on the base configuration of this old-style Roubo workbench last night for a photo shoot today. But before I tore apart the shop and moved all of our workbenches around for the photographer, there was one last task to perform.

In the debate of round bench dogs vs. square bench dogs, I have tried to remain neutral.

But after years of working on both, I have decided to cast my lot in with the round dog camp. Here are a few reasons why:

For this Roubo workbench to work, I've got 16 joints that have to come together all at once. There is not an option to glue things up in stages and still guarantee success.

As a result, I tried to give myself some wiggle room.

If you've been trying to reach me during the last few weeks, I apologize. The answers to your questions are:

You know that you've been building a Roubo workbench when you chop a 1-1/4" wide, 4"-long and 3"-deep blind mortise and it's comically easy.

Today I'm getting back into the swing of things on this Roubo workbench. My goal is to have the stretchers dry-fit into the legs by the end of the week. There are several things that could get in my way.

The hardest part of ripping (besides the exertion) is making a square cut through the thickness of the work. It's fairly easy to follow your line when ripping, but it's also easy to make that cut at an angle, especially in thick stock.

After a couple of weeks of working with the legs for this new workbench, I am certain the material is not pine.

Yes, I know. Shocker. The good people at Home Depot were mistaken.

What is it? Heck if I know.

One of the goals of this latest bench is to build a piece with enough visual interest that you could put it in a dining room (think sideboard) or a living room (think table behind a couch).

I've added lots of details that I think will make this work in a living space (as well as a workshop), but there is one flourish I'm not so sure about. That's where you come in.

The Marketplace for this year's Woodworking in America conference is the deadliest ever. By deadly, I mean you better start saving your pennies and moving some money out of that Cayman Islands account. We already have more than 40 exhibitors confirmed for the show – with some more in the wings.

These are top-shelf manufacturers that make or sell woodworking equipment or provide instruction. There will be no purveyors of magic towels or wacky ladders. Just woodworking.

I'm thankful when I can see disaster coming. Being able to spot a potential problem is the gift of experience, but it is also like a tranquilizer dart used to take down a rabid African elephant.

Today I was cleaning up the sliding dovetail socket for the fourth and final leg of this French-style workbench. And the deeper I plunged with my router plane and chisel, the more concerned I became. What looked like a little punkiness on the underside of the benchtop was turning into a tumor worthy of "One Life to Live."

To modern eyes, old-school workbenches look like they are going to self-destruct.

The legs are tenoned into the benchtop (which moves with the seasons). And stretchers (that don't move) are tenoned into the legs. Something has to give, right? Otherwise your benchtop will be cleaved asunder, creating a "split-top Roubo" a la naturel.

After a little tweaking of the mortise, the first leg went in. You can see a gap at the shoulder (it's about 1/16" now). That's actually what's left of the rough underside of the top. I'll take down the middle hump on the underside and it should close right back up.

Assuming, that is, I can get the leg out of the mortise.

— Christopher Schwarz

I started cutting the mortises and the dovetail sockets in the benchtop today and I can tell you a few things:

Things I hate: Gouging my own eyes out with a spoon, and being pulled away from a project for more than a couple days.

In the pre-industrial age, it was fairly common to have your workshop inside your home. In fact, in many early American houses, rooms served several purposes and could be converted to another function by rearranging the furniture.

These days, most of us have dedicated shops. We surveyed our readers in 2005 on this question and found that 96 percent had a dedicated workshop space. Of those of us with shops:

• 42 percent have a garage shop
• 32 percent have a separate outbuilding (that's not a garage)
• 28 percent have a basement shop
• 5 percent have one in an "other location"
• 2 percent use a spare room in the house.

Note that the numbers add up to more than 100 percent because there is some overlap here (a basement garage shop, for example).

Recently, however, I've been getting a fair number of e-mail from readers who are woodworking without a dedicated shop space. Their solutions to the problem are novel and would seem familiar to an 18th-century woodworker. Let's take a look.

The Kitchen Shop
Jameel Alsalam lives in a one-room basement apartment with his girlfriend in Washington, D.C., and figured out how to make a functional workbench that also doubled as a dining table.

The dining bench is made from three 4" x 10" x 8' slabs of poplar he got free from his uncle. And while the top was fairly straightforward, the base was tricky. It had to support his workpieces and still be able to allow chairs to scoot in all around.

His solution was to use two stretchers down the middle of the top instead of stretchers along the long edges of the benchtop. The stretchers are joined with mortise-and-tenon joints and bench bolts.

"The end result is a dining table burly enough for Vikings to eat at, and it's rock solid for planing," Alsalam writes. "I think keeping the top flush with the side is gonna be tricky, but the main goal is accomplished: I can do woodworking, and my girlfriend hasn't left me."

The other key to Alsalam's success with this set-up is that he uses only hand tools at home. When he needs power equipment, he heads to the local adult education center.

"One time I made the mistake of trying a power sander, and suddenly I was wiping the sawdust off everything in my house," he writes. With hand tools, all I have to sweep up the shavings (I'm lucky to have a tile floor)."

A Blog for the Shopless
Kenneth Woodruff lives in a condo in the San Francisco area that has no space for storage or a shop. So for a year, Woodruff researched the craft to figure out a way to make things work in his condo.

And as he's gotten cranked up, he's found there are a lot of people out there just like him. So he started a blog that documents his efforts called Rough Wood. Visit the blog at http://roughwood.kennethwoodruff.com.

"Many people around the web are clamoring for ways around some basic issues: a reasonable bench, boring accurate holes without a drill press, hand planing on a tiny surface, not using a router in a tiny apartment," he writes. "Being shopless instills a need to innovate and overcome challenges that are often not present when you have a garage full of tools – and a father who introduced you to woodworking at a young age."

Some of the projects are definitely worth investigating, including a knockdown workbench that lives underneath his bed. Now he's working on a tool cabinet that will look as good as a piece of furniture.

We're planning another survey of our readers real soon, but until that comes around, take this quick poll about your shop.

— Christopher Schwarz

The BigWoodVise.com web site says that ordering is temporarily closed. I chatted via e-mail with Joe Comunale at Big Wood Vise to get the story.

Here's the good news: It's only a temporary thing.

Comunale, who works in the automotive industry, said his day job kicked into high gear after some layoffs. As a result, he's been traveling a lot on short notice and hasn't been home to make the ash vise screws, which won a Best New Tool award from us in 2009 and was featured on the LVL Workbench shown above.

He said things should return to normal in a few months. In the meantime, he decided to close ordering so he could fill his existing orders before taking on new business. If you have a vise screw on order, he's working on it.

— Christopher Schwarz

Several readers have asked about the sawhorses that my new benchtop is temporarily sitting on. We've had two pairs of these in the shop for about 14 years and featured them in a one-page article in the March 1997 issue of Popular Woodworking.

I scanned the page and you can download a pdf of the article here.

sawhorses.pdf (1.14 MB)

The sawhorses are quite handy. In their short form, they are 21" high, and are excellent for laying out cuts on rough lumber. We also assemble cabinets on them. They are a little high (for me) for handsawing. I want to lop 2" off the legs. That would be about right.

When you put the risers on them, they are 30"-high – just right for gluing up panels. We'll also put a door on top of them and use that as an assembly table or – in a pinch – as a dining table for a staff event.

There are a million plans out there for sawhorses. Here is #1,000,001.

— Christopher Schwarz

All week I've been itching to saw these joints that connect the legs to the benchtop. I've never cut a 5"-deep dovetail joint in a 6x6, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

It was easy going until my enormous saw suddenly stopped cutting. Had the flesh-detecting technology in my tenon saw kicked in? (Ye Olde Saw Astyntan?) But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

From outside the confines of our shop, the fact that I'm building another workbench might be interpreted as a cry for psychological help. After all, I already have my fair share of workbenches.

But there are some good reasons that I'd like to share with you. And believe me when I say that the problem here isn't me, it's you.

When I am deep into a sawcut, you could walk into the shop totally naked, on fire and covered with leprous monkeys, and I probably wouldn't notice.

Accurate sawing is tantric. It's a rhythm. It is meditation.

Several weeks ago I was planing a piece of palm when my hand slipped, and a deep sliver of the nasty grass dove into the middle finger of my left hand.

I dug out as much of the splinter as I could. But now almost six weeks later, the foreign object (as my doctor calls it) is deep inside my soft tissue. I can wait things out, or I can see a hand surgeon (I'm a good waiter).

Wood can be nasty stuff. Rosewoods make my tongue swell up like a Ballpark Frank. Some species (redwood, especially) sting like crazy when I get a splinter. And spalted stuff can kill you dead.

But aren't you worried about what wood can do to your tools?

I went looking during lunchtime for stuff to make my epoxy black. I struck out trying to find lamp black and black food coloring in our neighborhood. I guess our neighborhood just isn't chi-chi enough to support people who make their own tires or bake high-end cakes.

However, at our local art supply store, I found Gamblin "Mars Black" powder, a synthetic black iron oxide used to color both paint and construction materials. And I found some India ink.

On one of my early workbenches (the $175 Workbench), a split opened at one end of its benchtop a couple weeks after assembly. It was about 1/8" wide and a few inches long, but it might as well have cleaved the top in twain.

Everyone in the shop gave me a good mock – it was my first benchtop using Southern yellow pine. And I wanted to see if epoxy could – as my grandfather claimed – fix anything except overcooked swordfish.

From the chicken vs. egg file: Many beginning woodworkers think you have to have a workbench in order to build a workbench. So they buy a cheap workbench and suffer with it for many years until they get around to building a "real" bench.

Truth is, you don't need a bench to build a bench.

I'm to the point with this workbench that I cannot see the concrete floor any more because of the shavings. I hate that floor, but I am starting to feel a bit like a hamster.

Today I took the clamps off the Roubo benchtop we glued up Thursday and I scraped off the excess hide glue squeeze-out. The seam is tight. Nice.

We glued up the benchtop for this Old-style Roubo bench today. Yeah, it looks ratty in the photo above, but the seam is tight. I even put in a little spring joint in the center of the joint – I was surprised I could close up the gap with just one of the parallel-jaw clamps.

In other words, we really didn't need many clamps.

But we did need extra glue.

Some men seek solace in a bottle. Others in the arms of a woman. For me, when the world starts swirling around the proverbial bidet, I look to construction lumber.

The following is unfiltered, mostly unedited and likely unreadable. But this is what I do.

Today I launched headfirst into building this Roubo workbench. First up: Dress the legs. Well, the four legs look worse now than when I sawed them up. One leg looks OK from the front. On two legs, some checking has progressed to the point that I'm worried about their long-term life. The fourth leg is punky and is likely a loss.

I'm embroiled in building a Roubo-style workbench using massive slabs and hand tools. Actually, I'm embroiled in my head. I'm in Maine this week on business and quite anxious to get back to Cincinnati and my awaiting hunks of punky cherry.

In the meantime, I have an interesting bench design to share with you that was built using only hand tools and some unique ideas that are well worth considering – just in case some of you are thinking about going down the same path as I have.

There are still some spots open in the woodworking classes I’m teaching this winter. If you’ve recently come into a little money (thank you First National Bank of the Plasma) and have a little time available, here are some details on these classes.

"I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking "did he fire six shots or only five?" Now to tell you the truth I forgot myself in all this excitement. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and will blow you head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself a question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?"

— Harry Callahan, "Dirty Harry" (1971)

I'm taking off on Sunday for a week-long trip for work and really wanted to get this Old-school Roubo workbench project underway. While the air-dried cherry stock is surprisingly dry, I still wanted to cut the legs to length so they will (I hope) finish drying while I'm away.

Roy Underhill has asked me to appear on "The Woodwright's Shop" during the show's upcoming 30th season. (Note to self: You can now stop squealing like a little girl.)

Between now and the time we tape the show sometime this summer or fall, there's lots I have to do to prepare. Shave my back, attempt to stop looking like a frightened lab animal while appearing on television and – oh yes – decide on something to talk about.

I've always wanted to build a Roubo workbench "by the book." Use a massive single plank for the top, tree trunks for legs and all the traditional joinery, such as the through-dovetail-and-tenon joint that marries the legs to the top.

If I'd lived in the the early 18th century, odds are I'd be rotting by now. Life expectancy in England in 1700 was about 37, according to the National Bureau of Economic Research. By 1820 it was 41, which is how old I am today.

So it should come as no surprise that though I adore my 18th-century workbench, there are times that it is more suited for a younger man. If I dovetail an entire chest of drawers, I pay for it in the back department – I'm stiff for a week.

Holding a "most pathetic workbench" contest is like holding a competition for the "most unusual burro act." Yes, you think in your sick little mind that you are ready for the worst. But really, you're an amateur in the equus depravity department.

When we held our workbench contest in March 2009, I was flabbergasted by the entries. I used to build furniture on top of two pine blocks on our back porch in Lexington, Ky. Little did I know that I had it real good back then. Don't believe me? Click here

I've taught woodworking in places where the best available bench was the floor. And the best available vise was my wholly inadequate buttocks.

When I built my French workbench five years ago I had two choices for the vise screws: steel screws from China or steel screws from Eastern Europe.

The choices today are far better, with steel and wood screws available from several continents. The newest entry into the market is from Lake Erie Toolworks in Erie, Penn. Run by Nick Dombrowski, this company makes maple vise screws that have details that I quite like. Dombrowski sent us a kit, and I looked it over this week.

It's real nice. How nice? It makes me want to build another bench. (Sorry Lucy.)

Recently I stumbled on an 1834 tool catalog from Holtzapffel & Co. in London that describes every tool a 19th-century woodworker could ever want, from planes to wrenches to chisels to tools I've never seen (brass straightedges, Water of Ayr sharpening stones, crow irons).

Naturally, there is a section on workbenches. Of course, I've pored over it. And I am intrigued and a little bewildered a bit by some of its details.

It's deer season here in Northern Kentucky. That means I have to wait in line at the butcher's shop next to camouflaged hunters waiting to get their deer "processed" into deer goetta and deer sausage.

It's also "Meagan Bench" season. Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick recently completed her workbench using laminated veneer lumber, which is on the cover of the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking. And yesterday, reader Meagan Kilrain sent me photos of her new workbench.

Making a workbench that is both massive and mobile is no small feat. Most of the approaches I have seen have one of the following complications:

1. The mobile base is outboard of the legs. You trip on them. You need new front teeth.
2. The mobile base has "locking" wheels that fail to "lock" completely.
3. The mobile base has spindly wheels that cannot climb a single layer of sawdust.
4. The mobile base is very complicated or expensive.

I quite like round dog holes in workbenches. They are easier to install than square dogs, plus you can use a wide variety of other bench gizmos in them.

But they can have a dark side. I have the Veritas brass dogs in my bench(es), and  used them for many years without incident – until last week.

I've always been an advocate for low workbenches, especially for planing operations. My workbench is at 34" (and while standing on my horse stall mat it's 33"). And I've become quite fond of Megan's bench, which is at 30" (horse mat included).

But I can tell you that 16" is just too low. Yes, you really can get your weight right over the plane at 16", but then there's the problem of the occasional and inadvertent somersault.

— Christopher Schwarz

This week I'm building the sitting bench for the White Water Shaker community, which will be featured in the Winter 2009 issue of Woodworking Magazine. The version I'm building is a very close copy, so it will be 13' long. The version for the magazine will be 4' long.

Dealing with long stuff is a challenge, so I thought I'd post a couple movies during the next week that demonstrate some of the tricks to doing it well.

You know, at our Woodworking in America event last week I didn't get to talk to a lot of the toolmakers. In fact, I didn't even get to see some of them. That is what a madhouse it was. So that's why I'm particularly pleased to announce a couple additional toolmakers who are coming to the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event Oct. 16-17 in Indianapolis.

Whenever I try to explain the new Veritas Surface Vise with words, I get only blank stares. Perhaps I don't have the language skills to manage it. Perhaps a short movie will help.

Woodworker Lévis Thériault of Fredericton, NB, sent these interesting photos of a leg vise he purchased in an antique shop.

The real head-scratcher here is the round post at the bottom of the chop. I haven't seen a parallel guide like this that wasn't threaded.

We’ve received a number of questions about Laminated Veneer Lumber (LVL) and the new “Gluebo” workbench that’s featured in the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the article for some of those answers (the issue is mailing to subscribers now, and will be on newsstands the week of Oct. 8), but there are a few items online that may be of interest:

Megan Fitzpatrick's new workbench is on the cover of the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking, which will be mailing to subscribers soon (I don't want to be more specific than that). Of course, having a woman woodworker on the cover threw some people in our publishing organization for a loop.

"What? Where's the middle-aged balding guy in a flannel shirt? You're putting a woman on the cover in a down economy? Are you a mole for Fine Woodworking?"

Don't worry. There are tons of middle-age guys featured on the inside of the magazine. I know that's the real reason you buy woodworking magazines.

OK, back on track here. We've just posted a video tour of Megan's new workbench, which is made from laminated veneer lumber (LVL). We're teasing her mercilessly about it. Be sure to count the number of times she flips her hair. And be sure to wait for the satanic cackle at the end.

And please buy the issue!

For many woodworkers, the biggest stumbling block when building a workbench is finding the right raw materials and the proper workbench design. I can say this with authority because my mailbox is jammed daily with questions about workbenches.

I am quite picky about my workbench designs (if you're reading my blog I don't need to say any more on this), and I'm picky about the quality of my raw material. I think you can use almost any species to build a workbench, but I have three favorites: maple, Southern yellow pine and ash.

Next month at our Woodworking in America Conference (Oct. 2-4 in Valley Forge, Pa.), Horizon Evolutions will be offering special "workbench bundles" of Pennsylvania ash that have the right amount of wood (plus 15 percent waste) for three of my favorite workbench designs.

While I really like it when people send me photos of their workbenches that were inspired by my book "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use," I really dislike it when their finished results kicks the butt of my Roubo.

Today in the "Take that, Schwarz" category is this specimen from Graham Collins. This Roubo-style workbench is made using beech. It is a massive beast: The legs and top are almost 5" thick.

When we select our instructors for our Woodworking in America conferences we look for craftsmen who have devoted their lives to woodworking and who are willing to share that knowledge with the world at large (believe it or not some people still keep secrets).

We also pick the people from whom our magazine's staff would like to learn woodworking.

As a result, the instructors for our Hand Tools & Techniques conference (Oct. 2-4 in Valley Forge, Pa.) are people at the top of their field, or are rising stars who we think you should meet. Many of these instructors are people I've been dying to meet since I started in the craft. Here are a few of my favorites:

Toshio Odate: Personally, I cannot believe we convinced him to travel to this event and speak. I've spoken with him on the phone (we're publishing a couple articles from him in 2010), but I've never met him in person. If it weren't for Odate, I don't think that Japanese tools would be so popular in the United States. His landmark book, "Japanese Woodworking Tools: Their Tradition, Spirit, and Use," is the gold-standard in the field. His teaching and writing have influenced tens of thousands of woodworkers. And we're asking him to speak on a topic that rarely gets touched upon in the Western media: Japanese planes.

Peter Follansbee: This guy is an infectious disease. He made me fall in love with 17th-century furniture and joinery. His research, furniture and writing (check out his blog) have profoundly influenced the way I look at wood, tools and processes. He's working on a book right now about his work that I think will catapult him into the limelight. Honestly, if you don't know squat about early American furniture, you are missing out on one of the most interesting and lively styles around. Look for me in the front row of his lecture. Also, Follansbee is going to be demonstrating joinery in the Hands-on Bench Rooms. Bring your ax.

Ron Herman: Unless you live in Ohio, you probably haven't heard of Ron Herman. He's a general contractor with Antiquity Builders of Ohio and has been working by hand professionally his entire life. He has forgotten more about saws than I know. In fact he lives and breathes saws and is an evangelist for sharpening and using these tools. I don't want to say too much about him here because we're going to do an entry on him later. But let me just say that he is larger than life, unbelievably skilled and is someone you need to get to know.

Roy Underhill: I got to spend several days with Underhill last year and I can tell you this: He is the real deal. He's not some tarted-up semi-skilled hack who looks good on television. He is a man who has devoted his life to hand craft. He reads Andre Roubo in the original French. He is most likely the best woodworking teacher alive today. And he's nice enough that you'd trust him with your kids. There's a reason we call him St. Roy.

Charles Bender: A short look at Bender's portfolio will make you do one of two things: put down your chisels and take up tiddlywinks, or it will inspire you to try to achieve a small percentage of what he's built. I've never seen such a far-ranging portfolio of work. And the number of authentic pieces Bender has built is staggering. He's now starting to share what he knows in the pages of Popular Woodworking and at his school, The Acanthus Workshop. He's a tireless researcher (ask him about his book collection) and has more than book smarts – he's built just about every piece of furniture imaginable.

I'm going to cover some of the other demonstrators in the coming week, but you can get a short look at their bios on our Woodworking in America web site. If you are on the fence about this conference, let me try to give you a push. These instructors are going to both transform and transfix the attendees (us included).

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Now is the time to register. We're offering $40 off the admission price until Sept. 9. After that, the price goes to $375. Click here for details on the different pricing packages available, including single-day passes.

MySpace Countdown Clocks

To celebrate International Workbench Day, I have a great photo (above) and some links to some interesting workbenches across the Atlantic.

These links and photos were sent to me by Kim-Erik Häggblom in Finland, and I spent about an hour last night at these sites browsing through the photos (no luck with the words, however. My Finnish is about as good as my baguettes these days).

For woodworkers who don't have a tail vise, wagon vise or other kind of end vise, the Veritas Wonder Dog has always been a great substitute. It drops into a round dog hole and allows you to pinch your work between the Wonder Dog and a second dog.

Now Veritas has developed a new bench-clamping device that is faster, more versatile and has a much longer throw than the venerable Wonder Dog. It's called the Veritas Surface Vise, and Lee Valley officials were showing it off at the Woodworking in America conference last week. I got to toy around with it a bit and take a few photos.

Last week Megan Fitzpatrick and I put the finishing touches on her new workbench, which built using an ancient French design, 19th-century fasteners and modern materials (laminated veneer lumber).

We are pleased with the result.

The entire bench is made using LVL and can be knocked down in minutes thanks to its nuts-and-bolts fasteners. The overall workholding and structure of the bench is ideal for anyone who uses hand tools, power tools or both in their work – thanks to Andre Roubo's 18th century drawings of workbenches.

I’ve been talking a lot about laminated veneer lumber (LVL), the raw material we used to build our latest workbench. But what I haven’t talked much about is why we chose this material and the characteristics of the workbench design itself.

The as-yet-unnamed bench is just about finished, and I am organizing my thoughts to write the article about the bench for the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking.

Trying to explain a "vise garter" to someone using only words is impossible for me. I've tried. I'm not man enough to conquer the garter.

The job of a vise garter is to lock the vise screw and the vise chop together, allowing them to move in and out in tandem. Usually you need to add a garter if you are using a wooden vise screw – metal vise screws have this function built into their casting.

You can use a vise without a garter, but it's not as convenient because you'll sometimes have to manually pull the vise chop away from the workbench after you release the screw's tension on your work.

When it comes to woodworking vises, I'm quite fond of the leg vise. Once you buy a vise screw (an inexpensive metal screw runs about $30. We're making this leg vise using the wooden screw from Big Wood Vise), you can build the rest of the vise yourself.

For me a design is never done until the finish is on the piece, I've stared at the thing for a long time and I've turned my back on it.

Up until that moment, I'll readily shift gears if need be. I'll order new hardware, rebuild a drawer or change a moulding. So this morning I found myself in SketchUp tinkering with the design of the laminated veneer lumber (LVL) workbench we're building in the shop right now.

It seems, well, insane that I would want to build another workbench. But it’s your fault. Really.

After my book “Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use” came out in 2007, there was one significant criticism from readers that hit home. Why didn’t I discuss knockdown workbenches in any detail?

It was a valid question. So much so that I wrote a free supplementary chapter for the book about knockdown hardware and the strategies for attaching the top to the base that would allow any bench to be broken down.

The more I work with laminated veneer lumber (LVL), the more I like it. Unlike using standard construction pine, the LVL doesn’t move around on you like solid wood.

As a result, it is easy to machine, doesn’t pinch your sawblade when ripping and keeps its shape after you machine it.

In fact, one of the planks of LVL we brought in had been sitting outside at the lumberyard and looked like it was covered in a brown substance that will go unnamed. Even this weathered plank is stable.

I have never used the right amount of glue – well that’s the way everyone else sees it.

Whenever Publisher Steve Shanesy comes in while I’m gluing, he’s bound to make a comment that I’ve got too much glue on a surface. My reply has always been: Better too much than too little. I’ve never had any finishing problems relating to glue squeeze-out (a great benefit of handplaning your panels) and I haven’t had any joints fail.

At 1:12 p.m. on Tuesday I had nothing to do, so I hustled Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick into the shop to continue work on the workbench made from laminated veneer lumber (LVL).

Of course, this is the only day in recent memory that Megan has worn a skirt, but she was a good sport about it.

Last week a reader posted a nice SketchUp drawing of a Roubo workbench that you can download (for free) from Google's 3D Warehouse.

The drawing features the Benchcrafted Wagon Vise and a dovetailed end cap that holds the vise in place. I've had several readers ask me what this construction should look like. Now you can download the plan, take this bench apart and see one good solution.

Today we glued up two chunks of what will become Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick’s workbench.

For those of you just tuning in, I haven’t broken my vow of workbench chastity. The bench design isn’t new (it’s actually quite old), but the material we’re using is. The whole thing is going to be made out of LVL – laminated veneer lumber. So this is a story about a new material. Really. And it’s Megan’s bench, not mine.

After slicing into the LVL on the table saw I learned some of the finer points of this engineered material. Because of the laminations, there really aren’t any stresses in the planks. It cuts easily, like nice plywood.

I ripped each LVL 2 x 12 into four 2-3/4"-wide strips. Then I jointed the solid-wood faces of each strip. The nice thing about LVL is that the faces are thick enough to withstand a couple passes on the jointer before you cut through the lams – it’s like thick, old-school veneer.

The bad thing about LVL is the seams. Every six feet or so there is a scarf joint where the lams overlap one another. These seams determine the direction you should run the material over the jointer. I jointed one of them in the wrong direction and was rewarded with a big splintery bite at the seam. I’ll never do that again.

The material is fairly consistent. The first plank I sliced up was dimensionally perfect in thickness and width. The second one was not. One end was a little thicker than the other (about 1/16") and the plank had a pronounced crook – but only on one edge. Crazy.

The only other bad thing I have to say about LVL is that because it’s (usually) made from Southern yellow pine, it’s pretty dang splintery. I’m in Detroit tonight for a photo shoot tomorrow and let’s just say I brought some LVL with me for the ride.

We glued up the two slabs with regular Titebond and left them in the clamps overnight. Yellow pine can have a lot of resin, which resists waterborne glues. So Titebond’s resident pointy head (Dale Zimmerman) recommends we leave it clamped for at least five hours. We’ll glue up the remainder of the top on Friday.

How will we flatten it? I’m still working on that. Megan keeps bringing up the fact that Senior Editor Glen D. Huey has a wide-belt sander that can handle a 24" top.

— Christopher Schwarz

I spent most of this weekend on my knees, and it had nothing to do with a lengthy visit to Chicago’s Hopleaf gastropub or the large cooler of Julius Echter wheat beer that a reader brought to us.

Instead, I spent most of the weekend on my knobby knees at the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event in Chicago for three reasons. One: To demonstrate how to use winding sticks about a dozen times during two days. (I think some of the attendees were just trying to get a look down my shirt.) Second: To try out a new Lie-Nielsen rip panel saw on a makeshift sawbench cobbled out of a shipping crate. And third: To examine every single speck of the new Benchcrafted leg vise on Jameel Abraham’s traveling workbench.

Let’s start with the vise because lots of people bent over this weekend to see how it works. The beauty of the vise is that it is so smooth and quick. Thanks to two rubber wheels on the vise's parallel guide and a Delrin bushing, the vise glides – nay floats – in and out. It’s about as fast as a quick-release vise. And when you spin the 8" round handwheel the jaw closes tight enough on your work to immobilize it. You don’t have to crank the wheel at all.

Other details: The rubber wheels on the parallel guide run on ball bearings, and the jaw opens to 10" – more than enough.

Jameel of Benchcrafted is planning on putting it into production soon; he already has some orders from this show. He said it should cost a bit less than his wagon vise hardware, which costs $350 and is dang well worth it. Yes I ordered one. No, I haven’t yet told my wife, Lucy (Hi sweetie! Sorry!).

The vise will include everything but the wood and the pin for the parallel guide. Jameel was showing the vise on a new traveling bench, which he was sharing at the show with plane maker Ron Brese of Brese Planes.

Ron’s extremely nice and fairly priced infills (which I’ve written about for the Fine Tool Journal) were sitting out all weekend so you could give them a test drive. They were all set up and ready to go. In addition to his smoothing planes, Ron also was showing a new miter plane he’d built using ebonized walnut as the infill. The plane was doing its thing on a nice miter shooting board. I gave it a test drive and became very worried about my wallet.

Not to be outdone, the Lie-Nielsen folks were showing a bunch of new products, including their drawbore pins (which I review in the next issue of Woodworking Magazine), a new DVD on design from George Walker (more on that later this week) and the production version of the company’s tongue-and-groove plane and panel saws (both of which are now shipping).

The tongue-and-groove plane is sweet. Lie-Nielsen has really nailed the form and fixed the problems with the original Stanley. I ordered one a few weeks ago (my personal attempt to stimulate the economy) and will have a full report this week or next.

The panel saw is also nice. After getting a gander at it last weekend, I was itching to give it a test drive. The Lie-Nielsen folks had the rip-tooth version with them and it worked well. Deneb Puchalski (said Poo-hall-ski) with Lie-Nielsen said the saw I tested had not been taper-ground and it didn’t have its etch, so I’m going to hold off on the details until I get my hands on a production version.

The event was held at the shop of furniture maker and woodworking instructor Jeff Miller. While the shop is fantastic, it is exceeded by its occupant. Jeff’s work is extraordinary. He makes wood do things that wood doesn’t like to do. And his mastery of curved and compound joinery is humbling. Add to all that the fact that Jeff is low-key and as friendly as they come. I spent some time prodding him to write for us. We’ll see what happens.

After spending the weekend on my feet and knees, however, I’m ready to spend an evening on my back. Starting now.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I sat down in a restaurant's booth in early April and waited for my pan-fried noodles, I knew that I had found a new workbench material.

For the last couple years I've been researching alternative materials for building workbenches – materials that are strong, inexpensive and widely available. And for the last six months I've been pestering Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick to build a workbench using LVL – laminated veneer lumber.

You're unlikely to find LVL in a home center, but it is widely available in commercial lumberyards. Contractors use the stuff to cross long spans because it's incredibly stiff, straight and reasonably priced. And it comes in 60' lengths (if you need it that long).  

In the wild, LVL looks like a piece of dimensional stock – the stuff Megan bought today looks like yellow pine 2 x 12s. But as you get closer you can see the edges and ends are laminated. Our 1-3/4"-thick pieces had 16 plies of yellow pine, each with a dark glue layer.

The stuff is pretty cheap, too. A 1-3/4" x 11-7/8" x 24'-long piece of LVL was just $110. (You can also find the stuff in different thicknesses and widths, though it's harder to find.) But how will the stuff fare in a workshop? And will it look decent?

That last concern was Megan's objection to LVL.

Back at the noodle bar, Megan and the other magazine's staff members approached the booth. I pointed to the table.

"This is LVL," I said.

The woodworker who made the restaurant's table ripped the LVL, turned it 90° and laminated it up. They put a nice finish on it and it looked great. Megan's objection to LVL disappeared as soon as she saw the table.

Today we brought the stuff in to build an 8'-long bench for Megan. The bench's design is going to be a blend of the Roubo and the Holtzapffel benches (the Holtz-bo). It will have a leg vise in the face vise position (with a wooden bench screw from BigWoodVise.com). And it's going to have a quick-release vise in the end vise position.

I'm certain the design will work. And after today I think the material will work as well. It came into the shop fairly dry – a couple of the sections were a few points above the norm. It jointed nicely on our powered jointer with a carbide cutterhead. And it ripped beautifully and easily on the table saw.

Next up: The big question. What will the glue do to the high-speed steel knives in our planer? And how will the scarf joints in the lamination fare when they are machined?

By the way, our full investigation into this material will appear in a future article this year in Popular Woodworking.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

So if your workbench lost in our "Most Pathetic Workbench" contest, is that a good thing? It's time to let the Internet decide!

We've posted all 121 photos of the entries we received for the contest on Flickr.com. No names were used, as promised. And then, while I was bored one afternoon (hey, it happens) I added snide comments about each bench.

And here's the fun part: You can add your own comments as well. All the photos are on Flickr.com, so if you have an account (they're free) you can add your two cents. Don't agree with who we chose as our prize winners? Let us know. Have something funnier to say about a bench? Put it up there.

I think the great thing about this collection of photos is that after viewing it, I will never ever complain about any of the workbenches I've ever worked on. Here's the other thing I learned: Behind every pathetic workbench is a tenacious (perhaps parsimonious) woodworker.

Start viewing the workbenches by clicking here.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

I've seen better workbenches in prisons. Really.

And that's not a criticism of the more than 100 woodworkers (and their spouses) who entered our "Most Pathetic Workbench Contest." In truth, it's high praise. Many of the entrants also included photos of the projects they completed on their "benches."

As I've said 100 times, you don't need a good workbench to do great work. However, it does help make things easier. And that's why we put together our "Shops and Workbenches" CD of 62 of our favorite articles on building benches, setting up your shop and filling it with the jigs you need. (You can see a slideshow of the contents of our $15 CD here.)

All of the seven winners in this blog entry will win the new CD. And one – our grand-prize winner – will receive the CD, plus an autographed copy of my 2007 book "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use." Plus an autographed copy of Robert W. Lang's "Build the 21st Century Workbench" DVD.

So without further blathering, here are the runners-up and some comments on them. (The big winner is the last one.)

Jesse's Triple-Pallet Dungeon Bench
We had several entrants that were cobbled together from a pallet. But Jesse used three pallets. Also, several staff members liked the crypt-like atmosphere. We had to do some serious Photoshop work to get a good look at the photo.

Your Favorite Neighbor's Workbench
This is just one of Kevin's benches (he has a nicer one on the wall), but this one has the best base. I want to build my next deck with this guy.

It's a Bench. It's a Boat. It's Garbage.
Kyle's bench is a bit lightweight. And that was a good thing. When Hurricane Ike hit, Kyle's shop filled with 6' of water and his bench floated through the disaster. Sadly, his bench succumbed to mold and had to be pitched.

I Guess Cardboard Was Wood at One Time
This bench (sent in by the spouse) is used for working both wood and clay. Phyllis explained that it's quite tidy because it's in their two-bedroom apartment. The boxes are both a work surface and tool storage.

The World is Your Bench
Eric works overseas (follow his blog at adventuresinwoodworking.com), and I'm always amazed at what he does with what he has. My favorite is the "balcony bench." This one probably won't shimmy.

The Highest Number of Pathetic Benches
Travis misunderstood the contest, I think. We were looking for one pathetic bench. He has six of them. The washer-dryer bench. The log-shaped bench hook. The log-shaped planing stop. The garbage-can twin assembly tables. And the thing that looks like a small mammal.

The Self-cleaning Bench
This is the grand-prize winner. What clinched it for me was the vise. Clearly, Roger is in it for the long haul with this bench and needs our help. Some of the staff questioned if this was a real bench. Perhaps it was staged. Roger said he cleaned the bench right before the photo by simply lifting the top and sliding its contents to the garbage. Congratulations Roger. Once you get your prizes, you're on the hook to build a bench.

Next week we'll post a slideshow of the rest of the entrants. Did your spouse enter your bench in our contest? You'll have to wait and see.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

Because of my unholy obsession with interest in workbenches, people send me photos of the beautiful benches they've built. They're like baby photos, and I keep them all.

Sometimes, these kind souls also send me photos of what they were working on before they built their dream bench. I've seen hollow-core doors on plastic sawhorses. A changing table converted to a workbench. A sorrowful stack of cinderblocks.

There have to be some even more pathetic workbenches out there, and we decided to hold a contest to find the photo of the lamest woodworking bench ever. The "winner" of our contest will receive all the resources he or she needs to design a first-class workbench, including:

1. A copy of our new "The Best of Shops & Workbenches" CD that contains plans for 10 workbenches, plus 11 of our best articles from the last 10 years on setting up shop and plans for 37 jigs and toolboxes. This CD, which arrived in our warehouse last week, is just $15 and contains our best writing on workshop issues. The CD is fully searchable and printable.

2. An autographed copy of my 2007 book "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use." This book walks you through the design process for any workbench and helps you pick the workholding you need and discard the features you'll never use. Plus, it includes plans for two nearly vanished workbenches, including my French Roubo-style bench. It's a $30 value.

3. An autographed copy of Robert W. Lang's "Build the 21st Century Workbench" DVD. This hour-long video shows you how Lang designed and built the bench that he now uses in the shop at Woodworking Magazine. The DVD also contains a digital SketchUp model of the bench, slideshows of its construction and additional printable drawings. It's a $20 value.

Here's what you have to do to win. Take a photo of your workbench. It has to obviously be a working bench – don't try to fool us by taking pictures of a card table. E-mail it to me at chris.schwarz@fwmedia.com with the subject line "My Pathetic Workbench" before midnight on Monday, March 23, 2009.

The editors will review all the entries and pick the one that we think is the saddest, most pathetic workbench. We'll announce the "winner" in our March 25 e-mail newsletter (and here on the blog).

We'll also publish a rogues' gallery of the winner and the runners-up (don't worry, no names will be used) plus the judges' comments on your entry.

This could be just the excuse you need to get off your duff and design your dream bench. So fire up the camera and good luck!

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. That "workbench" at the top of this entry? That's Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick's bench at home. It's the kitchen table from her house as a child. Megan, however qualified, is not eligible to win this contest.

When a workbench leaves a workshop, the results can be sad.

I’ve seen perfectly good workbenches transformed into plant stands in a hallway. I’ve seen them as displays for pottery. And I’ve seen a lot of them pressed into service as kitchen islands.

This last use might not be the worst fate for a workbench. At least it still sees the occasional cutting tool, some fiberous plant materials (ginger, carrots) and perhaps even a little blood. Heck, a woodworking vise does a good job of opening jars of pickles and peanut butter.

The saddest examples are usually in retail. I’ve seen several workbenches in clothing stores holding stacks of sweaters, underwear and high-end jeans. This weekend, reader Jonathan Hartford sent me a photo of a French workbench he found at a Crabtree and Evelyn store in Massachusetts.

Its drawer is filled with fragrant soaps. Its bottom shelf holds gift boxes instead of bench planes. (Note the nice detail on the bottom stretcher.) Hartford snapped the photo above and then gave the bench a hip check.

Still solid, he reports.

Perhaps there is hope for this one to go back in the shop someday. I don’t know if you’ll ever get that flowery smell out, however.

— Christopher Schwarz

So I've stared at the image above enough to go cross-eyed. And I'm out of ideas.

Earlier this week, Mike Wenzloff asked me if I knew what these round-looking things were beneath nearly all the benches shown in the La Forge Royale woodworking catalog from the early 20th century.

They show up on all the large benches in this French catalog. The things are drawn to suggest that they are round. And they extend quite a ways below the benchtop. All of them appear to pierce the stretchers below the benchtop.

Wenzloff wondered if they were perhaps a wooden screw that would secure the benchtop to the base. That's the best explanation I could come up with, too. But I wanted to tap the collective wisdom and weirdness of the Internet.

Got any ideas? Post them in the comments below.

To make things easier for you, I've uploaded a high-resolution scan of this particular bench that you can download by clicking on the link below.

LaForgeBench222-223.jpg (1.43 MB)

— Christopher Schwarz

One of the few other people on this earth who understand my sickness affection for workbenches is Rob Giovannetti.

I met Rob at a Gallotapalooza event outside Chicago several years ago, and we've stayed in contact via e-mail. Rob – and I say this in the most affectionate manner possible – has a workbench problem.

He's built eight workbenches (all different styles) and taught two classes about it. You might remember is Rob-O workbench from 2006 that I featured here on the blog.

Rob is about to embark on another bench-building adventure real soon. His next bench I have named the "Manufactured Wood Smurf Bench." Long story. It's going to be cool when it's done, I'm sure.

In the meantime, Rob sent me the following list of the top 10 things he's learned about workbenches. It's an interesting list.

— Christopher Schwarz

1. Benches don't need to made of hardwood. I've made several benches from hard maple, but the ones I've made from Borg Douglas fir worked just as well and were usually easier to make.

2. I have a love/hate relationship with tail vises. I've tried every vise you could think of as an end vise, including none, and I keep coming back to the tail vise. I can't fully explain why this is, but it just is.

3. The shoulder vise is the easiest face vise to use, but the most time consuming and complicated to build. Go figure. If you like to dovetail and hand cut your tenons, I recommend this as the vise of choice. A close second would be a twin-screw.

4. Square dogs aren't worth the effort. This may sound like laziness, but aside from a sense of "tradition," there is no reason for me to have square dogs. Round holes are quicker and easier to make, and they hold just as well. Plus, the 3/4" holes can be used for a wide variety of other purposes.

5. If one row of dogs is good, one is even better. In other words, I've not encountered a single situation where multiple rows of dogs was a benefit; and I have a bench with four rows of 'em.

6. Tool trays are for people who are clutter-aholics. I am one of them. Even with my tools hanging above my bench, I'm much more likely to throw a tool in the tray than put it back where it belongs. I've found more organized people don't use them.

7. A good bench NEEDS a board jack. Whether the base is flush with the front edge of the top or not, a sliding deadman is a must-have accessory.

8. The only reasons I can figure for having endcaps on a bench are either 1) they support a tool tray at the rear of the bench, or 2) they support a vise of some kind on one, or both, ends of the bench. I don't believe an endcap has the rigidity to keep a top from cupping.

9. If I had a dedicated gluing/assembly table, my bench would have no finish on it at all. Even with dogs, wood on wood is the best grip you can get. Even one coat of oil can make a benchtop overly slippery.

10. None of these things apply if you can make masterwork furniture on a sheet of plywood on sawhorses. Some of the best work I've seen has come from the simplest of assembly tables; but if you do a lot of hand tool work, I think the aforementioned points will help make building furniture much easier.

Please note I didn't mention plywood as a bench material. Truth be told, I don't know much about building benches from man-made materials. I do, however, have an idea of building a top from 3" wide ripped Baltic birch and face gluing them together to form a core. Laminate with hardwood veneer or hardboard on the top and bottom, and add equal thickness solid wood skirting around the edges, I think it would be quite suitable for pounding on without much flex.

— Rob Giovannetti

I always encourage people to make their workbenches longer. But in the case of David Brookshaw, I'm just dead wrong on that point.

Brookshaw of Gloucester, England, makes 1/12-scale miniatures of tools and workshop equipment. Have you ever seen the book "Tools Rare and Ingenious" (Taunton Press)? Those are his tools on the dust jacket.

Right now, Brookshaw is building a fully equipped Gentleman's Victorian Workshop, which will be on display at The Kensington Dollshouse Festival on May 15 to 17. He sent us some of the photos of the pieces he's building, and they are extraordinary.

For starters, he built a scale model of the Roubo-style workbench we have in our shop. Brookshaw's version is 6" long and is made from boxwood, which takes fine detail. The vise screw, which features a 1/8"-diameter shaft, is fully functional.

Even the holdfasts work. Brookshaw says a hammer blow will shatter them, but thumb pressure alone makes them work.

You can visit Brookshaw's web site at davidbrookshaw.com to see more photos of his work, including a complete tool chest, a 17th-century Italian brace and two recreations of famous handplanes.

Brookshaw promised to send more photos of his progress in building the shop as it progresses.

— Christopher Schwarz

Brookshaw's fully functional drill press.

The wheel lathe for the workshop. Note the turning tools laid out on the folding rule.

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Alert reader Bengt Nilsson of Stockholm, Sweden, sent in this great photo of a joiner's bench that was recovered from the Vasa – a Swedish battleship that sank on its maiden voyage in 1628.

Nilsson took the photo while touring the Vasa Museum with an American exchange student. He estimates that the bench is about 24" high, 16" deep and 8' long.

It has some interesting features. Check out the location of the crochet and the holes below the open part of the hook. Those holes appear to line up with the holes in the sliding deadman. This set-up makes it easy to rig up a long board to plane its edge.

Also interesting: The angled legs at the rear of the bench. This feature is common on English benches and some French and Canadian benches I've seen. One possible explanation for its appearance here might be that it helped the bench nest against the hull. You often see that explanation for the shape of sea chests.

However, the more likely explanation is that it is for stability. At only 16" wide, the angled legs would help the bench's stability when working across the grain of your work. Also curious: The lack of a rear stretcher.

If you'd like to explore this photo even more, download the high-resolution version below (be sure to check out the planes and other tools in the display case above the bench).

Vasa_Bench_Large.jpg (517.45 KB)

— Christopher Schwarz

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When I was researching historic workbenches, I tried like crazy to get my hands on a style of bench vise that (to my knowledge) isn't made in this country anymore.

Featured prominently in the French "La Forge Royale" catalog from the early 20th century, the "Ideale Vise" is a quick-release metal vise that has some interesting characteristics.

First, it doesn't appear to have any screw-thread mechanism – at least from the illustration. And from accounts that I dug up, it appears that you turn the handle one way to release pressure and then turn it the other way to apply pressure.

I've only seen one example of this vise (which might tell me something), and it was disassembled at the time. So I haven't ever been able to give one a try. If anyone out there has used one, I'd like to hear about it. How does it function? Does it apply sufficient pressure? Is it fussy to maintain?

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. A quick comment for those having trouble posting comments. The frustrating blog software we use here has a timer. If you take too long (more than about five minutes) then you get timed out. Whenever you post a comment, enter the captcha code, press submit. When the blog refreshes, scroll down. If you timed out, the blog will ask you for the Captcha code again. Sorry for the trouble….

Sometimes the best innovations are so simple it's a wonder that they aren't everywhere. This week, Mike Siemsen of Chisago City, Minn., sent me an e-mail about his new workbench that opened my head like a can opener.

Siemsen, who runs Mike Siemsen's School of Woodworking, recently completed building a very close copy of Peter Nicholson's workbench featured in the early 19th-century classic: "The Mechanic's Companion, Or, The Elements and Practice of Carpentry," which you can download for free from Google.

Siemsen developed the workbench with the input of period woodworker Dean Jansa. (Remember this marking gauge he built for Popular Woodworking? Let's all encourage Dean to write more.) The bench developed by Siemsen and Jansa looks a lot like Nicholson's – with one small upgrade that is amazingly useful.

The bench has a small gap between its two top boards. Look through the gap and you can see the transverse bearers that support the top. This gap allows you to do some really cool things with your planes and saws. By dropping a batten into the gap and onto the transverse bearers you can plane across the grain of a board (called traversing). Wedge the board against the planing stop plus a batten in the gap and you can work diagonally. You also can use the batten as a bench hook for sawing. And you can use the gap to store tools.

Is there precedence for this? Yes. George Ellis's Planing Board (which I describe here) uses wedges in the same manner. And a Nicholson-style workbench shown in Audel's "Carpenters Guide" shows a bench with a loose top. You could easily see how the gap could have been exploited….

In any case, it works. Check it out here and on his blog.

— Christopher Schwarz

Here you can see how you can use a batten in the gap to work across the grain.

Here the batten is used with the planing stop to work in a more diagonal fashion.

Here it's a bench hook for sawing.

And here the gap is used for tool storage. Next week we'll show how it makes julienne fries.

These last couple weeks I’ve gotten to break in my new Benchcrafted wagon vise while building a dry sink for the next issue of Woodworking Magazine.

The dry sink is enormous (it looked so small on paper). And every surface has passed under a handplane. The wide stock was prepped entirely by hand. The narrower stuff I processed first with a powered jointer and planer – and then handplanes.

I’ve been planing narrow and wide stock on edge, and the faces of wide panels. I’ve been planing with the grain, diagonally and across the grain with a fore plane, jointer plane and smoothing plane. I’ve been planing joinery with a plow plane and a fillister plane. And I’ve been planing mouldings with hollows and rounds and a beading plane.

As a result, I’ve been planing what seems like acres of pine. I’ve filled up the garbage can at the end of my bench twice with shavings.

So I feel confident in saying that the Benchcrafted vise has gotten a good workout with a lot of the tools you’ll find in a shop that blends both power and hand tools. And with each workholding challenge I presented to the Benchcrafted, it swatted them all down with ease.

The vise’s sliding block moves quickly along its threads, so you’re not spinning the wheel endlessly. And you can engage it with both subtlety and enormous force. The vise holds its position when you clamp a panel and want to plane across the grain but don’t want to bow the work – a delicate balancing act that would cause my old hillbilly wagon vise to slip.

And when I wanted to use the vise to really clamp something hard – such as a drawer side – it made the workpiece feel like it was physically attached to the benchtop. Totally solid. It also was robust enough to disassemble joints when used like a spreader clamp (this operation would pull my old vise apart).

So I’m sure you’re thinking: “Great, but is it worth $350?”

For me, absolutely. I spent about $250 to build my bench out of yellow pine, and so the $350 Benchcrafted vise means I still have a bench that works better than any other I’ve worked on in my life for less than half of the scratch I would pay for a high-quality commercial workbench.

Is it better than a traditional tail vise? So far, I think it is. We’ll see if the Benchcrafted sags in use like a tail vise does – only time will tell that. But what I like about the Benchcrafted vise compared to a tail vise is that I don’t have the large “no work” zone you get with a tail vise. You cannot pound or lean on a tail vise or it will quickly sag.

How does it compare to adding a quick-release vise with a big wooden chop? I think it’s a draw. I like having the full support of the Benchcrafted wagon vise, but I also really like the quick-release function of a steel vise. If you don’t have the money for a Benchcrafted vise, a quick-release vise in the end vise position of your workbench is the next best thing.

Some will balk at the price. Fine. This vise isn’t for you. Me? I’m sick of the low-quality vise hardware that has passed through our shop during the last decade. It used to be easy to buy fantastic vises from England and America. But now you are rolling the dice when buying new vises. I’ve seen decent new vises from the emerging economies, but I’ve also seen some stuff that went right back into the box and back to the seller. Junk.

There are no regrets with the Benchcrafted. It is impeccably made, overbuilt like something from the USSR’s space program and flawless in use.

And that’s good enough for me.

— Christopher Schwarz

I really need to start keeping a list of all the things I use my sawbenches for. Sure, I saw stuff on them. And I stand on them while go-go dancing in the shop to amuse visitors. Those things are obvious. What's not so obvious is how often they get me out of weird jams with my handplanes.

On Monday as I was planing down the face frame of this dry sink, the sawbench was the obvious choice to lend a hand. I wedged it between my bench and the dry sink, and voila. The job was done.

I also plane down table aprons in the same fashion with a sawbench (this particular sawbench was made by craftsman John Wilson; all mine seem to end up in the shops of friends). Frequently, I'll assemble cabinets or glue up panels on them as well.

If you've come up with other good uses for the shop appliance, post them here. Your suggestion might convince another woodworker that they should build a pair.

— Christopher Schwarz

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Lie-Nielsen Toolworks has just released a DVD that is based on the theories, research and building that I did for the book "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use." The DVD – titled "The Workbench" – shows how I use (and adapt) three different workbenches to work on the faces, edges and ends of boards.

Shot during a week in Maine, this DVD demonstrates how to accomplish basic (and some advanced) workholding with a traditional European-style workbench, a David Charlesworth-style workbench and my own Holtzapffel-style workbench.

I also show how to use basic appliances, such as a bench slave, shooting board and a wide planing stop, to extend the capabilities of your existing workbench.

And if you are in the throes of designing or purchasing your workbench, this DVD points out the important design details to consider, including the size of the bench, its workholding and the structure of its top and undercarriage.

This DVD is (I hope) a distillation of my 144-page book on the topic. I think you'll find the DVD especially useful if you haven't read the book or would like to see its principles put into action on a variety of workbenches.

In addition to the 40 minutes of video, the DVD contains a glossary of workbench terms and articles you can print out on shooting boards, holdfasts and bench hooks.

As usual, all of my DVD proceeds are donated to charity. My proceeds from this $25 DVD will benefit the endowment fund of the Early American Industries Association, a very hand-tool friendly non-profit organization.

The DVD is now in stock and can be ordered directly from Lie-Nielsen.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I first built my Roubo-style workbench, I wanted to see if I could work without an end vise. So for the first year or so I used my planing stop, holdfasts, battens and geometry to steady my work as I planed it.

But I got tired of the whack-whack, shuffle-shuffle necessary whenever I needed to plane across the grain of panels (called traversing) or plane diagonally on any size board.

So I started futzing around with wagon vises, which I first spotted in an early 20th-century French tool catalog. My first attempt was rather "agricultural" – let's call it the "Early Cletus Period." I built one using a veneer press screw, some wooden runners, chewing gum and a fancy French-style escutcheon plate.

I soon left the Cletacious period and designed an evolved wagon vise that used a bigger acme vise screw, which is on the English-style workbench in my book on workbenches.

But today I am walking fully upright, leaving my sloping forehead ways behind me. My Roubo workbench is now outfitted with the ultimate wagon vise by Benchcrafted.

In the interest of full disclosure, I paid full price for this vise and spent my own money – Le Roubo is my workbench. (The prospect of my company moving all my stuff out of the office is probably one of the reasons I've never been downsized. It would take weeks.)

The Benchcrafted is a nice piece of work. After installing dozens of poorly made vises (and a few good ones), I was impressed to see how well cast and machined every component was as I took it out of its box.

The vise's installation instructions are thorough, well-illustrated and to-the-point. Benchcrafted also includes full-size templates that make laying out all your cuts and holes a snap.

For me, installing the Benchcrafted was a retrofit. So it was a little more involved than if you were installing this vise on a new bench under construction. The vise requires a cavernous cavity on the underside of your benchtop to house all its finely machined guts. So I spent some serious time hogging out waste with a router and a mortise chisel.

Then you need a beefy end cap on your bench to hold the vise screw. My cap is about 3" thick and is lag-bolted to the benchtop. A new bench could easily incorporate dovetails into the design or some sort of breadboard construction.

With the cavity and end cap complete, the rest of the job was precision boring and fitting. Use a drill press to install the vise screw. The templates and the hardware are made to tolerances that are too tight to hit with a brace and bit.

And use a router to install the runners. The runners guide the sliding dog. If the runners are out of line, the vise will bind up. Precision is paramount.

Then it's just a matter of fitting the sliding wooden dog and lining the interior faces of the jaws with leather (I used some scraps I found at Michael's craft store and yellow glue).

How does it work? Like a dream. The dog moves quickly and smoothly back and forth. And the wheel on the end doesn't interfere with the soles of my planes (like on the Cletacious vise). It is, without a doubt, completely worth the $350.

And though my co-workers laugh when I say it, I think this is the last end vise for the Roubo.

— Christopher Schwarz

This week my pesky highly rewarding day job has been interfering with the installation of my new Benchcrafted wagon vise. Our February 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking is riddled with typos (or it is written in Pig Latin). So Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick and I have been cleaning up our poor verbiage this week while the real work has sat dormant in the shop.

Here’s a quick update: On Monday I did nothing in the shop. On Tuesday I got my Ashley Iles 1/2" mortising chisel off the rack and hacked out the rest of the cavity on the underside. This was the biggest “mortise” I’ve ever chopped: 3" deep, 4" wide and 4" long. Then I used a jigsaw to remove the rest of the waste topside, which lengthened the slot for the vise’s sliding dog block.

Finally, I took my chisel plane (Yea! Another use for the chisel plane!) and trued up the slot. The chisel plane worked brilliantly. I pressed its sole against the existing slot and it trimmed the newly cut areas flush.

Today I worked on the bench’s new end cap. This was boring. A lot of boring. About 12 holes that all had to be spot-on to accommodate the Benchcrafted vise, plus the four enormous lag bolts that attach the end cap. Luckily, it was a snap.

Right as I was about to leave work today, I installed the vise screw and bolted it to the end cap. Then I turned the bench over to start the installation of the last metal bits. I couldn’t help it. I gave the wagon wheel a spin. Whizzzz. The vise moved like a water moccasin through the bog.

I belted out an uncharacteristic “Yee-haw” and headed home.

— Christopher Schwarz

This weekend I'm installing the Benchcrafted.com wagon vise hardware on my Roubo-style workbench. But before I could pull my old prototype wagon vise hardware off the bench, I had one more task for it to perform: Making the new end cap for the new wagon vise.

The new end cap on my benchtop has to be beefier than my original end cap, so I had to glue up some 8/4 maple into a slab about 3" thick. I planed it all flat using my old wagon vise, glued up the slab and then decommissioned the vise.

The new Benchcrafted wagon vise requires you to cut a curved cavity on the underside of the bench to accommodate the vise's guts. I hogged out most of the waste with a plunge router and a long straight bit. Then I cut off some of the excess waste with my tenon saw and shaped the cavity's curve with an outcannel gouge used bevel-down.

Of course, the new vise's guide rails are going to have to go right where I have a big void in one board thanks to a waney edge. I'm going to have to cut out the wane and patch it with some solid yellow pine for two reasons: One, it will make for a neater job all-in-all. And two, after seeing dozens of people climb underneath my bench at the Woodworking in America conference, I now know that there is no such thing as a secondary surface on this bench.

— Christopher Schwarz

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Barring some tryptophan- or ale-induced trypanosomiasis, I'm going to start modifying my Roubo workbench this weekend to add some new vise hardware.

I'm replacing the metal leg-vise screw with a beautiful wooden-vise screw from Joe Comunale at BigWoodVise.com. And I'm replacing my hillbilly-style wagon vise with the stunningly machined wagon vise hardware from Jameel Abraham at Benchcrafted.com.

Both of these gentlemen are putting their hardware on sale temporarily. So if you're on the fence, get off. The Benchcrafted.com sale is for one day only: Friday, Nov. 28, 2008. The terms of the sale will be announced that day. So check the site that day for details.

I paid full retail for the Benchcrafted hardware, and I'd do it again. The stuff is beautiful. Even my co-workers (who had no idea what it was for) oohed and ahhed when I pulled it out of the box like some prize-winning poultry.

The sale at BigWoodVise.com runs until Dec. 31, 2008 (so you can conceal these charges on two credit card statements).

The vise screw for the Roubo leg vise is on sale for $130 (and that price includes shipping). The regular price is $165. That's a good deal.

— Christopher Schwarz

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My puny 8'-long English workbench is starting to feel like an apartment-sized dinette set. Why? Check out this 12'-long version of that same bench design that boatbuilder Bob Easton constructed using Douglas fir.

Easton's design is interesting because he incorporated a third leg into the middle section of the bench because he was concerned that the whole thing might flex under heavy planing. He built the third leg just a little short to ensure that the whole thing wouldn't become a teeter-totter.

After using the bench, Bob reports that the third leg probably isn't necessary. The bench doesn't seem to flex at all in the middle. However, it looks cool and is good insurance in case Bob ever decided to rebuild a V-8 engine on there.

The other interesting alteration from the original plan published in my "Workbenches" book is that Bob used a traditional face vise in the end vise position. I built a wagon vise there on my version of the bench. I'm Chris Schwarz and I approve of this alteration.

Using a vise like this in the end-vise position saves you lots of construction time. The wagon vise took as long for me to build as the rest of the English workbench (no lie).

Bob has been blogging about his bench and you can follow his progress using this link. Or you can skip to the final and glorious result here.

— Christopher Schwarz


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Ever since we published plans for the Holtzapffel Cabinetmaker's Workbench in Issue 8 of Woodworking Magazine, readers have requested information on how to build the bench so it could be easily knocked down and moved.

The version I built and published plans for in Issue 8 used old-world bench-building principles where the legs were tenoned into the top and the base parts were permanently drawbored. But when Kelly Mehler and I taught a class in constructing the bench last month, we decided to modify the plans to make the whole thing break down for easy transport. The students hailed from all over the country (Missouri, Alaska, Michigan), and so a portable version was necessary.

By the way, if you missed my daily blog posts about this class, you can find them over at the Popular Woodworking editor's blog by clicking below.

Day 1: Sticks
Day 2: Glue
Day 3: Grit
Day 4: Gruntwork
Day 5: Grease
Day 6: Guessing
Day 7: Gone


This weekend my blisters from the class began to fade, and so I cleaned up the construction drawing and cutting list a bit – you can download them for free below.

Here's how the knockdown construction works in a nutshell: The workbench's base is made up of two end assemblies, which are permanently glued and drawbored, plus two long stretchers.

Compared to the original design, the only changes to the end assemblies are that the legs don't have tenons on the top and you need to add a 3"-wide top stretcher to each end assembly. These top stretchers will help you attach the base to the benchtop.

The base's long stretchers are significantly different. The long stretchers have short tenons and are attached to the end assemblies with 1/2" x 8"-long hex-head cap screws, washers and nuts. All in all, the base's joinery works a lot like a traditional bed.

The assembled joint that shows the cap screws in place and the plywood template.

The disassembled joint that shows the short tenon on the long stretcher.

To install the cap screws, drill 5/8"-diameter holes through the legs. Then rout out slots for the nuts and washers in the long stretchers using a plywood pattern, a 1/2" spiral bit and a guide bushing (see the photo for what this looks like). With the slots routed, install the cap screws, washers and nuts. Snug everything up with a socket set and box wrench.

With the base assembled, attach the workbench's top to the base with 3/8" x 5"-long lag screws through the top stretchers in the end assemblies. We used four lag screws per bench. The screws at the front of the bench were in 3/8"-diameter holes. The screws at the rear of the bench were in 1/2"-diameter holes, which allows for wood movement.

Everything else about this bench is identical to the plans found in Issue 8.

Holtzapffel_KD_Bench.pdf (52.91 KB)

— Christopher Schwarz

Lie-Nielsen Toolworks continues to turn back the clock (a good thing in the world of hand-tool woodworking). The Warren, Maine, manufacturer plans to offer a version of the 18th-century French-style workbench made popular in Andre Roubo's "L'Art du Menuisier."

The company has just completed work on its first Roubo bench (shown above) for a customer. The bench is quite similar to the version I built for Woodworking Magazine, with a few exceptions. The two ends of the base are a bit different – there's extra stretchers in there to attach the top, plus cross-bolts that allow the bench to be knocked down. Also, there is a twin-screw vise in the end-vise position at the request of the customer.

All the important functional details are spot-on. There's a wooden planing stop mortised into the top. There's a crochet and a leg vise – you don't have to have both bench accessories to plane things on edge, but they are both convenient and useful. Also, Lie-Nielsen has added a sliding deadman. This is an accessory not shown in Roubo, but is very handy for securing wide panels and doors.

The bench is maple, and Thomas Lie-Nielsen reports that it weighs 400 pounds. The top is 4" thick, 24" wide and 8' long. When the bench is put into regular production, the legs will be 4" x 4".

The bench will be more expensive than the two styles now offered by Lie-Nielsen, a European bench starting at $2,000, and a David Charlesworth-style bench for $1,500. Thomas says that building the Roubo involves additional labor and material.

If you're interested in ordering one, you'll need to wait a bit. The company has temporarily suspended taking orders for benches until it can reduce the waiting list, which Thomas says is now at about nine months.

But if you've seen these benches at shows or in other shops, you know that the quality justifies the wait.

— Christopher Schwarz

I always liked the look of my yellow pine Roubo-style workbench. That is, until last week.

That's when I got a look at Jameel Abraham's version of a Roubo workbench in ash, which puts most workbenches that I've seen to shame. Honestly, it should come as no surprise that Jameel would go over the top. He's a luthier and builds stunning ouds. What's an oud? It's a proto-lute. Check this link.

So anyway, back to the bench. Jameel took the basic Roubo form and added a sliding leg vise, something Roubo also did in a later volume. He called that form a German bench. Then Jameel added a wagon vise using custom machined hardware that is similar to David Powell's tail vise shown in "The Workbench Book."

Jameel documented the construction of his bench with photos, text, drawings and even some movies on his blog. All in all, it's a great read and a great resource for anyone seeking to build a fine bench.

Here are links to the blog listings in the correct time order for your convenience:

• Introduction
• Rails and leg mortises
• Leg details and vises
• Vise chops
• Leg vise action
• Tail vise details
• Leg vise rollers
• Leg vise breakthrough
• Building the top
• Tail vise construction
• Attaching the top, leg vises
• Fin

Congratulations to Jameel on this impressive bench. We should all aspire to do such excellent work.

— Christopher Schwarz

Anyone who builds furniture while in a wheelchair is up against serious challenges. Not only are the machines and workbenches too high off the floor, getting the wheelchair close enough to the workbench to actually work is a serious problem.

All the workbenches I built for "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use," are unsuitable for the wheelchair user. The bench's bases won't let a wheelchair user get anywhere near the working surface.

Several wheelchair users have approached me about designing a bench for wheelchair users, but I wasn't sure where to begin. Sjoberg makes this version that is adjustable in height, which is very similar to Jeff Noden's Adjust-a-bench – at least in basic form.

Reader Larry Arnold, a wheelchair user, designed and built this workbench, which is quite stout, passes my kitchen door test and is handsome to boot. Here are some of the statistics:

The base is made using ¼" steel tubing. The legs are 3" square; the other steel rails are 2" x 3". The base weighs 106 lbs.

The top is 2-1/4" thick, 24" wide and 66" long. The top is 29" off the floor and made from Douglas fir. Both the vises are Lee Valley face vises, which Arnold said he chose because they have a low profile under the bench, allowing him clearance to roll under there.

He also has a deadman he bolts to the top, which will allow him to clamp long boards, doors and the like.

"I built it all myself with no help, except for the top which I took to a cabinet shop to run through their wide belt sander," he says. "I have full access under the bench with no restrictions except for the vertical legs. It's going to be so much better than what I have been using, wish I would have built one sooner. I know it's not what you would build for yourself,  but for me in my situation I can't think of much I could add to make it work better for me."

And here's the best news about the bench: Arnold is going to put it into service to build two Shaker-style tables from Issue 2.

Congratulations to Arnold on his new bench.

— Christopher Schwarz

Editor's note: Because it's "Workbench Week Internazionale" I decided to tie up a loose end from my book: "Workbenches: from Blah, blah blah to Yadda yadda yadda." On page 57 I discuss Thomas Stangeland's bench and point out how the best woodworking I've seen has been built on the most minimal of workbenches.

Helpful reader Tom Moore visited Stangeland's shop recently and snapped the above photo of the bench. Below is the story that goes with that workbench.


In 2006 I taught a class in handwork at a school where Thomas Stangeland, a maestro at Greene & Greene-inspired work, was also teaching a class. Though we both strive for the same result in craftsmanship, the process we each use couldn’t be more different. He builds furniture for a living, and he enjoys it. I build furniture because I enjoy it, and I sell an occasional piece.

One evening we each gave a presentation to the students about our work. One of the pieces I showed was an image of my French workbench. I discussed its unusual workholding devices and how the bench was a bit of a Thor Heyerdahl experience.

Thomas then got up and said he wished he had a picture to show of his workbench for the last decade: a door on a couple horses. He said that a commercial shop had no time to waste on building a traditional bench. And with his power-tool approach, he just needed a flat surface and some clamps to work.

It’s hard to argue with the end result. His furniture is beautiful.

But what’s important to note here is that you can get by with the door-off-the-floor approach, but there are many commercial woodworkers who still see the utility of a traditional workbench. Chairmaker and furnituremaker Brian Boggs uses more newfangled routers and shop-made devices with aluminum extrusions than I have ever seen in a shop. And he still has two enormous traditional workbenches that see constant use.

The point here is that a good bench won’t make you a better woodworker. And a not-quite-a-bench won’t doom you to failure. But a good bench in any shop will make many power-tool operations easier and open the door to permit you to try many hand-tool operations. The bench is simply another tool. It’s the biggest wooden clamp in the shop.

As Thomas was wrapping up his part of the show he showed an interesting slide of an enormous and thick slab of an exotic wood he had been stashing for years and years in his shop.

“I just need to find the right project for it,” he said.

“Hey Thomas,” I heckled, “that slab sure would make a great benchtop.”

He laughed. Next slide, please.

— Christopher Schwarz

If you were charmed by Harrelson Stanley's Japanese workbench, then here is another variant for you that was built by Russ Merz of Cincinnati, Ohio.

Merz built this bench about seven years ago. The horses were built using scrap oak salvaged from pallets. The beam was built from 2x4 construction lumber.

"I read about these and just had to have one," Merz writes. "I think you know the feeling."

Here are the stats: The trestles are 20" high and 38" wide. Each foot is 21" long. The slab is 3-1/8" x 8-3/4" x 68".

So how does he like using the bench? Well, he doesn't. The parts for the bench usually sit below his European-style workbench. But for our benefit, he dusted them off, set them up outside and snapped these photos.
 
"Even though I never use this, it was fun making," Merz writes. "About a year or so after you make this (bench), brush off the dust, sign it, put it on eBay and donate the proceeds to your favorite charity."

— Christopher Schwarz

Woodworker James Oliver has built a massive workbench with French lines (tree trunk legs), English-style workholding (a twin-screw face vise) and some modern practicality (a quick-release vise in the end-vise position).

When I first posted photos of Oliver's bench in January, readers wanted to see more photos – not only of the bench, but of the shop. Oliver, who works part-time for Coastal Carvings in Coombs, British Columbia, obliged with these two other views of his bench and shop. Click on the photos to see the full-size versions.

The layout for a hand-tool shop is pretty sweet. There's a saw till at the right of the photo with planes above. The window directly behind the bench is also home to a rack with striking and boring tools. And check out the nice collection of chisels on the left.

For me, however, the best part is the floor. Our shop in Cincinnati has a concrete floor, as does my shop at home. Almost every year, I come up with some scheme to lay a wooden floor in both shops, but something (usually my love of eating meat once in a while) gets in the way.

Thanks to Oliver for these photos of another inspiring shop and bench.

— Christopher Schwarz

Many readers were interested in Bill Liebold's sliding leg vise, which he installed on his Roubo-meets-Dominy-style workbench (I'm just going to call this form the "Bill Bench" from here out).

Liebold liked the sliding aspect of the leg vise because when you used it in tandem with a fixed leg vise, you could clamp just about anything. Need to dovetail a 24"-wide case side? That's child's play for this set-up. How about planing an entryway door? Just as easy.

This sliding leg vise arrangement was shown in a plate in Andre Roubo's 18th century treatise on woodworking, but I've never seen one in the wild on an old bench. Perhaps that's because there is a weakness to the original design (or my employer is not funding enough trips to France for me). Liebold said the pressure applied by the screw could bow the front edge of the bench out. This occurred because the vise runs in a track on the underside of the benchtop. When hard pressure was applied, the tongue that rides in the track would push out in some cases, bowing the front of the bench.

Liebold, however, has now fixed that problem. The solution? Steel.

"Well, I just had to make my sliding leg vice work in a permanent way so I wouldn’t have to worry about it breaking," Liebold writes. He lined the track with steel (you can get this from a home center).

So how does it work?

"Now the weakest part of the vice is the parallel guide," Liebold writes. "I cinched down on a piece of basswood until I could hear wood starting to crackle. I was able to dent the basswood and I bent the brass pin in the parallel guide. Success!"
 
— Christopher Schwarz

One of my (many) blind spots in woodworking is Japanese tools and shop practices. Sure, I’ve read Toshio Odate’s excellent autobiography, plus “The Genius of Japanese Carpentry.” And I drool with great regularity on the Japan Woodworker catalog.

But I understand Japanese shop practices as much as I understand all the acronyms my 12-year-old daughter uses when texting. DFLA!

So I’m always eager to learn about Japanese woodworking from people who have studied and practiced it in Japan. One of those people is Harrelson Stanley, the owner of JapaneseTools.com and the man who brought Shapton waterstones to American shores.

Stanley completed the furniture program at the premier North Bennett Street School as a very young man and then went off to Japan to study the traditional lacquering and woodworking trades. He came back to this country with a Japanese wife and a deep desire to spread the traditional Japanese practices among Western woodworkers.

This weekend at the Northeastern Woodworkers Association's annual show, Stanley was demonstrating his new Sharp Skate honing guide, teaching people to sharpen edge tools and helping people learn to wield a handplane on his Japanese bench.

The bench consists of two trestle-style sawhorses that are topped with one massive slab of a top. Except for the teak planing stop, all the bench’s parts are made using Port Orford Cedar, Stanley says, a durable and strong member of the cypress family that grows in the Pacific Northwest.

This particular bench was built by James Blauvelt, a Connecticut cabinetmaker, joiner and carpenter who runs the company Bluefield Joiners. But is this bench typical of what would be found in a Japanese workshop?

“Actually, it’s a little too nice,” Stanley says. “In a Japanese shop they would use something more makeshift.”

Harrelson Stanley demonstrates how the notch in the top is used to true a plane's sole.

Here are some of the critical dimensions: The trestles are made from 3-1/2” x 3-1/2” stock throughout, with an overall height of 23-3/4” from the floor to the top of each sawhorse. The top is 3-1/2” thick, 10-1/4” wide and 8’ long. The working height of the benchtop is 27-1/2”, which is fairly low by modern Western standards.

The slab rests on the sawhorses and is held in place by a single cleat below the top that fits against the top of one of the sawhorses. Gravity and the force of the work keeps the top in place.

The top is considerably narrower than the sawhorses, which prompted me to ask why. Is that where stock was placed before or after it was worked? Not really, Stanley says. Typically, the Japanese woodworker would place a thin board across the two trestles and place the tools he or she needed on that board. Because this board is thin, it typically kept the tools out of the way of the work.

Another interesting feature of the benchtop is a triangular notch cut into the slab up near the planing stop. This notch holds Japanese planes with their soles facing up so the craftsman can dress the tool’s wooden sole with another plane.

As I was taking a few photos of the bench, one of Stanley’s daughters, Abby, demonstrated her planing skills on a piece of Port Orford Cedar (that wasn’t part of the workbench). After taking a couple warm-up passes, she pulled off a beautiful shaving that was almost entirely full width and full length. And, as you can see, the bench wasn’t too high for her.

— Christopher Schwarz

The last place I ever expected to stumble on Andre Roubo’s handiwork was next to an Art Deco radio and underneath some old water jugs. But on Saturday, I walked into an antiques store in Ottawa, Canada, and there was a worn but functional Roubo-style workbench perched patiently under a window.

OK, let me back up a minute: I was in Canada (actually, as I write this I still am in Canada) to judge a tool-making contest for Wood Central. The judging was held in the corporate boardroom at Lee Valley Tools, and at one point Robin Lee, the president of the company, and Doug, one of Robin’s old-tool conspirators, took me aside.

“Do you want to see a Roubo workbench?” Robin asked.

My reply was something along the lines of what bears do when in they have natural urges in the woods. So after we wrapped up the judging for the day, we headed out to the antiques store. We opened the front door, and it was sitting right there – underneath some metalware, stoneware and an old sled.

So I dropped to my knees and (I know you think the next word is “prayed”) poked around the undercarriage of the bench. I can’t say how old this bench is, but I can give you some interesting details about its construction and dimensions.

Overall, this Canadian Roubo is 8' 8-1/2" long, 17" deep and 28-3/4" high. The top is 2-3/8” thick and the consensus among the group is the top is pine. There is no planing stop evident in the top, but there is lots of evidence of holdfast holes that were plugged. The top is made of two pieces. A very wide front piece and a narrow piece at the back that is joined with a square-shaped spline.

The joint is at the exact point where the rear legs pierce the top of the workbench. The rear legs are slanted (as you can see in the photo) and join the top with the exact joint that Roubo shows in his landmark 18th century woodworking book – it’s basically a through-dovetail combined with a through-tenon.

The front legs are joined to the top using this same joint. All the legs are 3" x 3" and look to be some sort of oak. The legs join the stretchers of the bench about 4" from the floor and each joint is pegged with through-pegs.

To plane long boards, there is a long stile that runs from the benchtop to the stretcher at about the midpoint of the bench’s front. The stile is pierced by numerous small holes for pegs that will support boards on edge. The far right leg is also pierced by a couple holes, though these holes were larger in diameter than those on the stile – perhaps they were for holdfasts.

The single drawer in the bench pulled right out. Inside was one small till and sliding tracks for at least two more (which were not in the drawer).

The leg vise (in the face vise position) was traditional in structure. The vise screw was wooden and quite worn (though it still worked). The nut at the rear of the jaws was detached and needed to be reattached.

The leg vise had a parallel guide that pierced the rear jaw, though its pin was long gone. The leg vise’s position on the top was quite interesting. The top cantilevered off the bench’s base on the bench’s left side by 24". On the right, only by 4". The leg vise was roughly centered on the cantilever. The lower part of the vise’s rear jaw was secured to the front leg with a strap of metal.

Overall, the bench was incredibly sturdy and showed evidence of heavy use and age. One of the members of our party asked if someone could have faked the bench or aged a newer example to look old.

While that’s always a possibility with antiques, the bench was selling for $2,000 Canadian, so if it was faked, the faker wasn’t going to be getting rich off this bench – it’s a lot of wood and there were a lot of wear marks that would have to be faked.

After about a half an hour of me making geeky statements (“Look you can see how the shell bit tore out the grain as it pierced the leg!”) I could tell it was time to go. All the members of our scouting party were standing around looking at me like my kids do when I’m on a lunatic woodworking speech.

There’s more bench news from this trip. While Lee and I were eating breakfast Saturday with Ellis Wallentine (from Wood Central) and Clarence Blanchard (a fellow judge from The Fine Tool Journal), Lee said two words between mouthfuls of eggs that has me sketching wildly this evening: “furniture” and “workbench.” More on this later topic next month.

— Christopher Schwarz, who this weekend picked up tips on teasing people on the Internet from Robin Lee, master taunter.

One of my favorite things about the Holtzapffel Workbench I built for Issue 8 of Woodworking Magazine is the monster twin-screw vise with wooden vise screws. The wooden screws move the vise's chop quickly, engage the work firmly and are quite durable.

Plus, they're wood. And I like wood.

Now there's a new source of wooden vise screws that I can heartily recommend after inspecting the finished product this weekend. Woodworker Joe Comunale of Romeo, Mich., has started a new business called BigWoodVise.com to sell vise screws, nuts and handles for woodworking benches.

While I was teaching a couple classes at the Sterling Heights, Mich., Woodcraft, Joe stopped by the store to show me the screws, which he has been selling for some time to friends and fellow woodworkers in the Detroit area.

The screws are as nice as I have seen on any bench. The threads are crisp, with no visible chipping or tear-out along their entire lengths. The hub, which is the large end piece on the end of the screw, is finished as well as any piece of furniture. One style of hub that Joe makes, which he calls the "Classic" style, has crisp black lines burned into the hub.

The screws he sells come with the matching nut, the handle and round ball-shaped caps for the ends of the handle. The two nuts I tried moved smoothly and rapidly on the screws and showed very little slop in the mechanism. Joe says he wants to tighten up the fit of the nuts on the thread, but I think they're great as-is.

His vise screws attach to your vise's wooden chop with a garter system. Garter systems confuse many woodworkers who have never seen them, but they are really quite simple. The job of the garter is to secure the chop to the screw so that the chop will move out when you retract the screws.

The garter itself is a small piece of wood that is mortised into the chop of your vise and held in place with friction. One end of the garter nests into a groove in the screw.

The 2"-diameter, 2 threads-per-inch screws from BigWoodVise.com are made from ash. The handles I inspected were made from maple.

Joe has just launched his web site recently and is having a "March Madness" sale that ends March 31. So if you are in the market for vise screws, you might want to place your order soon. The "Classic" vise screw, nut and handle are on sale for $99 for each set this month – the regular price is $150 for each set.

This business is a side job for Joe, who is a mechanical engineer, but he plans to keep several screws in stock and promises (at most) a four-week delivery time. He also is happy to do custom work if you have something special in mind. Contact Joe at joe@BigWoodVise.com for details.

So if you're tired of getting grease marks on your work from your metal-screw vise, or you are building a bench with an old-school look, then definitely check out these screws from BigWoodVise.com. I don't have any plans for building another bench (where would I put it?), but if I do, I'm definitely going to buy a set of these screws myself.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I first built my French Roubo-style workbench, I put a sliding deadman on it to help support doors and long panels. But I have long intended to replace that deadman with a sliding leg vise.

Roubo actually shows this arrangement in one of his volumes, and it is a tempting morsel. However, as you will soon see, it is also an engineering challenge.

I'm tempted to build it because it would be the final solution for dovetailing and working on the long edges of boards. One end of the work would be held in the regular leg vise (located on the left leg). And the other end would be grasped by the sliding leg vise. With a long bench (mine is 8' long) you could hold almost any piece of wood you would find in a furniture-making shop.

The engineering challenge comes when you try to build it so it is sturdy and won't damage the bench. It can be done, of course, but adding the sliding leg vise as an accessory requires some careful thought.

Luckily, industrious reader Bill Liebold has built the sliding leg vise on his 12'-long Dominy-style workbench with an end vise. He is smitten with the functionality of the sliding leg vise, but is still working out the engineering aspects of it.

The real issue is that the sliding panel moves in a groove that is routed into the underside of the benchtop. When you really cinch down the sliding vise, it can bow out the front edge of the workbench.

"I was able to bow the front edge of the bench top but that was with far more pressure than I need to hold a piece of wood," Liebold writes. "I did it to see what would happen if I overtightened the vice. I like to experiment."

If you are considering adding a sliding leg vise, you are going to want to change the groove in the underside. Personally, I'd locate it as far back as possible from the front edge of the benchtop. Liebold thinks it would be best to have the groove start 3" in from the front edge, and to use a 1"-thick tenon on the sliding panel. I think that sounds about right.

There are lots of other ways to go about this, I'm sure. And now I'm toying again with the idea of adding a sliding leg vise if I can just get the engineering worked out in my head.

— Christopher Schwarz

On the cover of "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use" there are a couple low sawhorse-gizmos parked beneath my French-style workbench that look like Munchkins from the Lollipop Guild could have used them to build the set for the "Wizard of Oz."

Those are Japanese sawing trestles that I built five or six years ago based on plans from Toshio Odate's "Japanese Woodworking Tools: Their Tradition, Spirit, and Use." I built the trestles to do some hands-on research on Japanese sawing methods after several people had mentioned that Japanese saws weren't designed to be used at a high Western-style workbench.

After I built the trestles, I pushed my current bench aside and started sawing on the floor of our shop. To make joinery crosscuts, you place the work across the trestles and kneel on a mat (I used a moving blanket). To make rips, such as a tenon cheek, you prop the work up on the trestle, stand on the work and cut the cheek. (See the photo.)

I have to agree that the Japanese saws did cut more efficiently this way, especially the ryoba. But you do have to be in better shape than a typical Western woodworker. That's because you are the woodworking vise. Your weight and your muscles immobilize the work as you saw. Plus, you have to tune your sense of balance a little finer.

After I finished with that experiment, I kept the trestles around because they're quite handy. I use them primarily for assembling things on my benchtop. With my work resting on the trestles I can easily clamp all around the work and under it.

My trestles are cherry and made from 2"-thick stock – I built them entirely by hand from some stock we had harvested from a co-worker's back yard. Also, just for fun, I built them without glue or metal fasteners – I remembered something about that detail from college when I studied the Shinto religion. You don't want to mess with the kami. It was a fun afternoon project. The trestles are 16" long and 6" high. If I had to make them again, I'd probably make them 18" or 20" long – sometimes they are a bit small to hold casework.

— Christopher Schwarz

The most common question I’m asked these days (right behind “Could you please get me some chocolate raisins at Trader Joe’s?”) is this one: “What is your dream workbench?”

It’s a fine question. And when Craig Stevens at Woodworkers Resource asked me the question for this podcast interview, I stumbled around and answered that it would be something like a Roubo Workbench (a French design), with the workholding of a Holtzapffel Workbench (designed by a German living in England).

A bit of a Euro-mash workbench, I suppose.

Well today, woodworker James Oliver of Vancouver Island, B.C., sent me a photo of that exact workbench, which he has recently completed building. The bench is 112" long, 27" wide and 32" high (James reports that he’s 5'7" tall). The majority of the bench is structural fir; the vises and sliding deadman are ribbon-figured African mahogany.

The twin-screw vise is even larger than mine – 25-1/4" between centers. And the jaws are lined with saddle leather. And my favorite detail is the little oil cup on the left side (made from walnut) – Andre Roubo would love it (if he were alive and had a broadband connection).

The bench took about a week to build. James builds furniture for Coastal Carvings fine art gallery using only solid stock, no plywood or veneers.

I think James’s bench is an excellent design. Bravo.

— Christopher Schwarz

One of the best things about building old-style workbenches (like Andre Roubo's bench above) is that there are little lessons you learn by using them. At times, you learn the lesson unconsciously and it takes a couple years for you to even learn that you learned it.

This morning I was flattening the panels for the blanket chest I’m building for the Summer 2008 issue by planing them directly across the grain — what Joseph Moxon calls “traversing” in his book the “Mechanick Exercises.”

So I’m minding my own beeswax while traversing, and I notice something I’ve been doing for a while without really thinking. While traversing, I wedge my left foot under the stretcher, and I use that foot to help pull my body back on the return stroke.

So I paused and I pulled my left foot out from under the stretcher and tried planing with both feet planted on the floor instead. That felt a lot like working. So I wedged my foot back under the stretcher and returned to work.

Did Roubo design this workbench with this little detail in mind? Likely, no. But the stretcher’s location has always been curious to me – it’s only 5" off the floor. Other benches I’ve worked on (and constructed) put the stretcher considerably higher off the floor. If you have a low stretcher, give this a try and let me know what you think.

— Christopher Schwarz

Probably the silliest thing about woodworking journalism is the "in a weekend" project that we promise readers on the cover of the magazine: "Build a John Goddard Highboy With Four Sticks and Pocket Knife – In a Weekend!"

(And trust me, it's the exclamation point at the end of that sentence that makes you buy the magazine and puts food on my table.)

Anyway, loyal reader and blogger Eric Seidlitz sent me the above photo of his Roubo-style workbench that he built over a holiday weekend. Eric, who works in Malaysia, said he's been frustrated with his bench-building efforts lately and has been having trouble finding good material and getting his tools to work. So he absconded with his children's Christmas present and built the above bench.

I think it's lacking in the mass department, but otherwise he did a fine job.

What would really improve this photo would be the addition of some Lego Frenchmen with frilly cuffs and collars at work at the bench. I checked the Lego web site, and though you can get Lego dudes dressed up like knights, astronauts and Indiana Jones, Lego doesn't appear to have any 18th-century French Joiners in its product line.

I think the Lego Pirates would be a good substitute. However, their eye patches aren't going to help with their sawing.

— Christopher Schwarz

Mark L. Wells writes: I've read your book and the extra chapterr.  Both are great. You provide so much more detail than anything else I've read, and I almost feel guilty for not having to work it out myself. 

Anyway, I am going to rebuild my bench soon and I plan to put a leg vise on the front.   When attaching the top, I assumed I would have to use mortise-and-tenon joints because of the tremendous shearing force generated by the leg vise.  I'm concerned that the vise would just push the workbench top right off the legs.  However, when I saw the simple L-brackets in this chapter, I started wondering if those would  be sturdy enough to resist the force of the vise.  The L-brackets would certainly be a lot less work! 

Have you tried attaching the workbench top using L brackets when the bench has a leg vise? 

Answer: Good question. My gut says that two L-brackets on the leg with the leg vise would probably do the trick. However, just be safe, I would probably put one stout 1"- or 1-1/4"-diameter dowel in the top of that leg. That should provide all the protection against shear forces that you need.

Hope this helps, and good luck with your bench design.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I travel with some of my old-school workbenches, it looks a bit like a 19th-century British caravan to India. Since 2005, I’ve strapped my French Workbench into the bed of a tiny Toyota Tacoma pickup truck. I’ve driven it across town with its hinder hanging out the back of a Honda. And I’ve crammed the English Workbench into two too many mini-vans.

These workbenches don’t knock down flat for shipping and weren’t designed to. Society was a lot less mobile when these benches were in favor. And while I prefer these workbenches the way they are – built as one monolithic structure – sometimes you need to build your workbench so it knocks flat.

Though I discuss some bench-bolt schemes in “Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use,” I didn’t cover the tricks to installing the hardware. I’ve installed quite a few of these systems in workbenches and beds.

So I’ve written an additional 10-page chapter that covers bench bolts and other systems of making your benches knock down flat into five pieces. Anyone can download this chapter here, for free, whether you’ve purchased the book or not. (The chapter is about 3.5 mb, so you will have an easier time if you do this on a computer with a broadband connection.)

The chapter discusses the pros and cons of the various ways to make your workbench’s base knock-down, including:

1. Solid-wood tusks driven into through-tenons that pass through mortises in the legs.
2. Drawbore pins
3. Lap joints secured with screws or lag bolts
4. Hex-head bolts, bench bolts or threaded rod.

Then I detail how to install the two tricky bits of hardware: hex-head bolts and the Veritas Special Bench Bolts, which I quite like. In addition to discussing knockdown workbench bases, I also discuss some of the different strategies for attaching the top to the base so you can easily remove it.

There might be a little surprise in here for you if you’ve read my book. All of benches feature very stout joinery, yet, I think it’s quite possible to really overdue it when it comes to attaching the top to the base. Most people focus on controlling racking forces when they attach the top. In a well-designed bench, you really should be more concerned about shear forces instead – and those are much easier to manage.

Dec. 20 update: Three typos fixed in file below. Thanks for the copy editing!

WB-Chapter9-appendixR2.pdf (3.49 MB)

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. A shameless plug: You can order a signed copy of the book with a companion CD of extra bench-building information from my personal web site.

A couple readers have pointed out a problem with page 81 of "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use" (Popular Woodworking Books).

The two columns of text on that page were transposed during the layout process, and I didn't catch the mistake before we went to the printer. All the text is there, and the story will make sense if you read the right column of text first and then the left.

Of course, that's not a good solution in my book (pun intended).

So I've prepared a corrected page that you can download, print out and stick in the book if you like. The page is in pdf format. If anyone else has any errors they have spotted, please e-mail them to me and I'll see that they are corrected in future editions (assuming that there are future editions).

NewPage81rev2.pdf (906.22 KB)

Sorry for the mistake.

— Christopher Schwarz

When the first copy of “Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction and Use” arrived on my desk from China via airmail, I couldn’t stand to even look at it. I stuck it in my satchel (which my wife fondly calls the “manpurse”) and took it home.

Before dinner that evening, I took the book out and showed it to the kids. Maddy, 11, took the book and started paging through it.

“Wow. This is great dad,” she said. “Will you autograph it?”

My heart swelled a bit. I had impressed my daughter that I was an author. But something didn’t quite seem right in her tone of voice.

“Why do you want me to sign it?” I asked.

“So I can sell it on eBay,” she said. “Someone might pay me extra if you sign it.”

Ah, Maddy, my little bourgeois capitalist. Since then a few other people have weighed in on the new book. A few people have said the book is a bit of a rehash of principles I’ve discussed on my blog and in print. That’s fair to a degree. My blog has been a place where I explore ideas in rough-draft form. The book is the summation of more than a decade of ideas and experiences, polished and complete. Well, that was the plan.

This week I got my first review on Amazon, which sells the book at a very competitive price, I might add. I don’t know the reviewer personally, but he read the entire book and grasped the message I was trying to transmit. Below is that review in its entirety, reprinted with the permission of the author.

The book is now available most everywhere. If you would like to purchase an autographed copy (along with a companion CD of additional material), you can visit my personal web site. I can't compete on price with the big booksellers, but I can sign the book (and occasionally one of the kids helps by adding a small smiley face on the title page).

Those books with the smiley face have got to be worth something on eBay some day.

— Christopher Schwarz

5.0 out of 5 stars 
A truly remarkable woodworking book
November 17, 2007
By Landscape W. Shipwreck (Island J, Brigstocke Township, N. Ontario)

As an avid reader of Christopher Schwarz's various articles and columns in woodworking magazines, I've been awaiting the publication of this book with anticipation. Now that I've read it I have to say that it's better than I expected, and my expectations were very high.

I've read a number of books and articles on workbenches (notably the ones by Lon Schleining and Scott Landis, which are valuable for what they are: surveys of various styles of workbenches, with info on how to build a few of them). This book is different. Not just a little different. Radically different.

Schwarz is not just a good writer. He is an extremely good writer, vastly better than the majority of writers about woodworking; better than most writers, period. He is not merely capable of explaining things clearly, or of organizing his text coherently. His writing is actually enjoyable to read. He has the ability to combine highly technical information with a kind of narrative structure, within which personal experience, historical research and theoretical conceptualization come together almost seamlessly. One could describe the book as almost an essay in the classical, Montaignesque sense: a personal, spiraling account of a particular subject, whose compelling structure takes the reader along on a wide-ranging voyage of discovery, and makes the reader a companion of the author as he works out his own thinking. However, this should not be understood as saying that the book is in any way vague, for it isn't. I mean to underline its powerfully engaging quality. I believe somebody who wasn't a woodworker, who had no plans whatsoever to construct a workbench, would enjoy reading it.

Schwarz is also a gifted scholar and theoretician, a trait not typical of woodworkers, of writers about woodworking. The evidence of his thorough research and profound thought on his subject abounds in the book. His conceptualization of the workbench as a tool for holding lumber so that its 3 different surfaces (edges, faces, and ends) can be worked is a recognition that you won't find anywhere else, and one that animates the entire book. It may sound simple, even obvious, but so does the second law of thermodynamics.

The book provides designs and construction overviews of 2 very different benches, which may seem a paltry number of options. It is not. Schwarz has distilled years of research and bench-building into these 2 designs, and offers plenty of options along the way as to how one might alter them to suit one's own purposes. The illustrations are abundant, clear and useful. Numerous sidebars provide detailed and helpful insight into a variety of sub- or side-topics (eg. Find a source for yellow pine; Pattern-maker's vises: friend or foe?; The Stanley No. 203 - better than a peg). The index is extensive.

Anybody familiar with Schwarz from his hand-tool courses and DVDs knows that he is a formidable woodworker and teacher. Those qualities resound through this book, as does his engaging ability to be personal, as does his earnestness, as does his good humor. I've always learned easily from him, and this book continues that trend.

The first bench I ever built was from an article of Schwarz's called "The $175 Workbench," published in Popular Woodworking in 2000. I still have it, and use it every day. I will be building another one soon, using an adaptation of one of the designs outlined in this book; this book which will accompany me along the way, like a friend. Perhaps this sounds a bit loopy, but read the book and tell me you don't share the feeling.

Shipping begins very soon for my new book "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use" (Popular Woodworking Books). The book has arrived in our warehouse from the printer and will be shipping out soon to bookstores and specialty retailers during the next two weeks.

The book features plans for two old-school workbenches (a French and an English bench), but those aren't the core of the book in my opinion. The central idea in this book is that there is no such thing as a perfect workbench – there are hundreds of them.

But before you can make a good workbench, you have to understand the different kinds of workholding devices – from single-point planing stops to Emmert patternmaker's vises – and what they are useful (and not useful) for. Then you can select the vises and devices that suit the tasks that you want to accomplish.

The two workbench plans in the book are merely the simple skeletons that you can then flesh out to your satisfaction. These two benches are easy to build. And while they are far less complex than most modern benches, they are just as effective.

The book is going to be available in at many bookstores, online retailers, in the WoodWorker's Book Club and directly from the publisher, F+W Publications Inc. (though it is not live on the site as of this posting on Oct. 31). You can even pre-order copies in advance right now from some online sellers, including Amazon and Books A Million.

In addition to those traditional sellers, you will soon be able to buy the book with a companion CD from four specialty woodworking sellers: Lee Valley Tools, Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, Tools for Working Wood and from my own site, where I sell books and DVDs (pardon the digital dust; it's still under construction).

The companion CD includes 3D electronic models of the workbenches in the books, slideshows of the construction process and a searchable, electronic version of the book so you can print out construction drawings for the shop or find sections that interest you.  

If you want a signed edition of the book, the easiest way to get one is to buy the book from my site. I sign all the copies I ship out (unless you tell me not to!).

One final note: I'd like to thank the readers here who encouraged me to write the book, plus the staff at Popular Woodworking magazine and Woodworking Magazine that endured my bleary eyes during the writing process and my company, F+W Publications, that had faith enough to actually print the thing.

— Christopher Schwarz

Preparing small tabletops or irregular-shaped tops for finishing can be difficult with handplanes. If the top has a lot of mass, you can usually count on friction to help hold the top in place. Or you can screw it down from the underside – assuming the underside is not a show surface.

But sometimes the best solution is to make some cauls to grip your work, which is what I did this morning in the shop to plane the top of some 18"-diameter tabletops for the next issue of Woodworking Magazine. The cauls are made from the scrap parts that fell off when I cut the tops to rough shape on the band saw.

Then I skipped the scrap pieces through my planer to reduce their thickness (I also could have used a jack plane). Then I bored 3/4"- diameter holes in the cauls so they would press-fit over my 3/4"- diameter round dogs in my benchtop. Finally, I pinched the top between the two cauls using my wagon vise (though any end vise can do the trick).

When I've done this on workbenches with square dogs, the solution is to cut the pointy end of the caul so it is flat. Then you brace the flat against your square dog.

No matter how you rig your cauls, pinching the work between two cauls has some advantages, as long as you don't use too much pressure. With two cauls you can rotate the top to work cross-grain if necessary or move the top so it's more convenient to plane.

This arrangement works great with belt sanders. It's not necessary if you use a random-orbit sander to prepare your work. Then you can just place the work on a blanket and get to work.

— Christopher Schwarz

As the Holtzapffel workbench from Issue No. 8 has been making its way into the hands of readers, there have been a fair number of questions landing in my e-mail about the bench.

One of the most common questions has been about which bench is my favorite. The answer is simple, but it vexes many readers: My favorite bench is any workbench that can pass the simple Kitchen Test. I don’t care if it’s French, English or made out of termite-barf MDF.

But to give you a (I hope) more satisfying answer: I have the Holtzapffel bench in my shop at home. I have the Roubo-style workbench in the shop at work. And the English-style workbench I built in December is in the basement workshop of a close friend, after almost wiping out his stairwell wall during the moving process. I hated to give up the English workbench but it was just too big for my diminutive home shop.

The other question that is coming up quite a bit is: Do you have any more plans, photos and drawings for the Holtzapffel workbench? The answer is no, I’m afraid. I poured everything I had into the article in Issue 8.

However, there are some other great bench-building resources now on the Internet that can help you plumb deeply into the bench-building process in a level of detail I couldn’t achieve in a printed magazine.

Fellow Midwesterner David Pearce is in the middle of building a Holtzapffel-style workbench and is documenting the entire process in remarkable detail on the excellent WKFineTools.com site run by Wiktor Kuc. Pearce provides everything that my article does not: encouragement, details on alternate processes and additional step photos. It’s an excellent companion site to my article, especially for a first-time bench builder.

Another good site to watch is Miraboo’s “Sidney Woodsmith” blog. Miraboo has designed an interesting hybrid bench and is still in the planning stages of building his workbench. His current design is a little bit French and a little bit English. The design could change, so stay tuned.

And finally, Jeremy Burton’s blog at WolfpackWoodworks.com is also a good saga to follow. Jeremy has built a rough bench to experiment on so he can develop his plans for his dream bench (a good idea; wish I had thought of that). His current bench is a little bit Roubo with some other engineering involved. Check it out.

If you have a blog that details your bench-building experience, let me know and I’ll share it with other readers. Just leave a comment below.

— Christopher Schwarz

A few readers gave me a little grief about the SketchUp drawings posted here this week saying that the renders weren't as good as a completely dimensioned architectural three-view plan. And that the file posted here was little more than a sketch on a napkin.

While I like formal three-view drawings and make them for all my projects, I think that everything you need to build that bench is in the SketchUp file. If you use the Dimensions tool (it's under Tools in the menu), you can strike almost any dimension that you need. It's not as freeform as, say AutoDesk, but SketchUp costs a little less.

The joinery is there. Select a leg. Use the Move tool to pull it away and you'll see the mortises, which you can strike dimensions from. Disassemble the shelf to see how the tounge-and-groove is sized and exactly where the cleat below is located. SketchUp is quite the powerhouse for the price (free).

I like to think of these SketchUp drawings as akin to being cut loose in a museum with a tape measure. Measure everything you think is important to create the architectural three-view you need to build the piece. This could be a full set of mechanical drawings with the screw threads drawn in. Or it could be a few crude boxes inked on a TGIFridays napkin soiled with buffalo wing sauce.

Also, Wendell Wilkerson, the man who joined Mr. Roubo and Mr. Holtzapffel, is proud to announce their newest addition to the family: Little Baby Dominy. This bench has a more traditional twin-vise set-up, like Mike Dunbar's on his famed Federal workbench from the holiest of holies: "The Workbench Book." (Shockingly, despite my enthusiasm for it and my track record (see "Essential Woodworker"), Taunton has kept this book in print.)

Check it out. Take the SketchUp tutorials. And play with the Dimensions tool.

Dominy_workbench_color~.zip (1.37 MB)

— Christopher Schwarz

I wish there were a simple test to separate a good workbench from one that should live the rest of its life as a plant stand. You know, something simple like an instant pregnancy test, but without having to drag your bench into the lavatory.

I started developing such a test for my forthcoming book on workbenches and I got to try it out Saturday on a group of about 25 woodworkers during a four-hour seminar at Lie-Nielsen Toolworks in Warren, Maine.

You never know how these things will go. Sometimes the audience listens eagerly, sometimes they fall asleep, sometimes I pass out. This particular group of woodworkers was an interesting mix. First, I had Thomas Lie-Nielsen, plus two members of his crew who build workbenches for him. Add to that Dave Anderson, a very knowledgeable woodworker who runs Chester Toolworks; James Watriss, a recent North Bennett Street School graduate; and six students in the 12-week intensive course at the Center for Furniture Craftsmanship. As I was going to be critiquing a bunch of workbench designs and hardware (including ones made by Lie-Nielsen Toolworks), I was a mite concerned that this would be a feisty bunch. They were feisty, but it was in a good way.

During the first couple hours I reviewed a bunch of traditional (and forgotten) bench designs, I delivered my rant (which I didn’t intend to come out like a rant) on hardware. Then after eating some chicken curry wraps and oatmeal cookies (yum), I explained my test.

I call it “The Kitchen Test,” but I need to come up with a better name for it. In a nutshell, here it is: Pretend that you have three pieces of woodwork in your shop and you need to secure them on your workbench so you can work on their faces, edges and ends.

One piece is a kitchen cabinet door that measures ¾" x 18" x 24". The second is a kitchen drawer that is 4" x 18" x 18". The third is a piece of baseboard for the kitchen that is ¾" x 6" x 48".

Now pick two (or 10) workbench designs and pit them against one another. Which bench would grip these three pieces of work in each of the three positions (for working the faces, edges and ends) with the greatest ease?

Some benches require a lot of extra accessories (bench slaves, bench hooks etc.), and some don’t. But it really is quite surprising how a lot of benches fare in this test. There are significant differences. During the seminar we went through about a dozen designs. Some designs could handle all nine operations. Some could easily accomplish only about half.

At the end of the seminar, I braced myself as Thomas Lie-Nielsen walked up to my bench with a very tall and muscular man. I briefly thought that this might be my last visit to the Toolworks (better buy that mortise float!). But Thomas was pleased. And the muscle behind him? That was the manager of his workbench department. He asked me to sign his wooden motorcycle helmet. That’s either a good thing or a sign that I should always look over my shoulder when I’m running by the side of the road in Maine.

— Christopher Schwarz

With the release of Issue 8 of Woodworking Magazine now imminent, we’ve uploaded a free eDrawing of the cover project – a 19th-century workbench – for you to download and examine.

This interactive 3D- illustration can be opened and manipulated using a free program from eDrawings that is available both for the PC and Mac. Even if you’ve never used a CAD program before, I think you’ll find an eDrawing easy to use.

With the help of the eDrawing you can rotate the project around, make any part transparent and move parts around to examine the joinery. It’s an excellent way to figure out how a project goes together before you start cutting.

This eDrawing was prepared by Louis Bois, a draughtsman and good friend of Woodworking Magazine. He also prepared all the construction drawings for the workbench that will appear in issue 8 (which is available in printed form, a digital downloadable version and a bundled version that includes both).

In addition to the eDrawing, we’ve prepared a slideshow of the construction process, which I posted earlier on our blog at Popular Woodworking. I’ve also linked it here for readers who might have missed it.

— Christopher Schwarz

Holtzapffel Final Bench Assembly.zip (2.48 MB)

BuildingtheHoltzapffel.pdf (1.64 MB)

Whenever I go to one of the big woodworking shows (such as the International Woodworking Fair), I always like to see the big CNC machines where the operators put a sheet of plywood in at one end and a desk comes out the other.

You might think I'm exaggerating. I'm not. In the late 1990s, one of these CNC companies was giving away full-size plywood chairs to attendees that you could assemble without glue, like a big puzzle. Though I like working with solid wood, I have always been floored by the coolness and efficiency of these CNC machines.

This week, industrial designer and furniture maker Aaron Hines sent me some fascinating renderings of a workbench he is programming for his company's CNC machines that is based on the English Workbench design I built for my book and the cover of the June 2007 issue of Popular Woodworking (for a basic sketch of the bench, visit our blog at Popular Woodworking).

Aaron designed the bench to be made using three sheets of 7/8"-thick plywood. The CNC machine will cut all the joints and make the bench ready to assemble. All Aaron will have to do is to drill some dog holes and do some work on the leg vise. The plywood isn't stiff enough as-is, so he's considering a solid-wood jaw or making the jaw a plywood torsion box.

I spent about an hour studying the design last night, and I think it's going to work quite well. Aaron is making the workbench for his home workshop, not for his company to sell. But I think it would be a very cool product to have on the market. Aaron says a flat-packed kit would be possible, though the shipping would be more expensive than the material. But he suggests that a retail outlet might be a better solution.

So don't try ordering one just yet. First Aaron has to get his bench built and see if the thing really flies. He promised to send photos of the finished product and some notes on how well it works. I can't wait to find out.

To see more renderings of Aaron's bench, visit his flickr.com page.

— Christopher Schwarz

While we were shooting the cover image for the next issue of Woodworking Magazine, our Photographer Al Parrish and Senior Editor Glen Huey came up with a great idea: Let’s shoot some video of the bench that shows off its cooler features.

So we did.

I pulled on a stinky old shirt that was coiled below my desk (good thing the video isn’t scratch ‘n’ sniff) and tapped out a script. Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick was in charge of make-up (there wasn’t any). And Senior Editor Robert Lang was Best Boy (he drank coffee and watched).

Glen shot the video and edited it the same night (he’s a workhorse, like all the willing slaves who work here). And here it is. A couple notes: The bench is 34" high. Really. It’s I who am freakishly tall. The bench is not too low. In fact, low benches really help with handplaning because you use your leg muscles more.

Check it out here. And look for more videos in the coming weeks on the topics covered in the next issue of Woodworking Magazine, which goes on sale on July 24.

— Christopher Schwarz

Good news: The next issue of Woodworking Magazine goes on sale on July 24. The new issue will be bigger than the last seven issues – 48 pages instead of 36 – and will be available in both printed and digital versions through our web site.

However, this new Autumn 2007 issue will not be available at newsstands. The only place you'll be able to purchase the issue is through our secure server on our web site. We've decided to forego newsstand distribution for the new issue for a variety of reasons, including the recent poor newsstand sales of all magazines and the general wastefulness of the process (all the unsold copies are thrown in the dumpster).  

Here are the details on pricing and availability: Starting on July 24, you will have two options for buying the new issue. For $6, you will be able to instantly download an enhanced pdf version of the magazine. This enhanced pdf will be much like the pdfs on our CDs, which have links embedded in the stories that take you to expanded content on our blog, web site or on other outside sites. The digital version will feature a full-color cover and the same rich sepia-toned photos inside.

For $8, you will be able to purchase a printed copy of the issue and it will be mailed to your house directly from our warehouse in Wisconsin. The printed version will be on heavy #70-pound paper stock and will be true black and white throughout.

I know that many of you are wondering if we will be offering subscriptions to Woodworking Magazine in the near future. The honest answer is that we don't know yet. Our circulation and accounting analysts are still preparing a report. Theirs is a difficult task because our company has never published a magazine like this one, and the playing field is a crowded one. I can say that our executives will be paying close attention to how this new issue sells. So your continued support of the magazine is appreciated and might even sway their decision.

Below is the important stuff: The stories we're working on right now for the issue.

The Holtzapffel Cabinetmaker's Workbench
Author: Christopher Schwarz
In 1875, when the world was balanced on a precipice with its rural past behind it and the modern age spread before it, this bench was published in an English book: “Holtzapffel’s Construction, Action and Application of Cutting Tools Volume II” by Charles Holtzapffel. It’s a tremendous book even today and is crammed with details on working wood and metal with both hand and power tools.

The Holtzapffel workbench is the third archaic workbench that I’ve built and put to use in a modern shop. Each of the three benches had a deep connection to the culture that developed it. The bench from A.J. Roubo’s 18th-century books is as French as béarnaise, strong coffee and berets. The bench from Peter Nicholson’s 19th-century “Mechanical Exercises” is entirely British. The only other place this English bench shows up with any regularity is in the Colonies.

The Holtzapffel is a cultural mongrel. The Holtzapffels were Germans who settled in England. And the bench has features of both cultures that, in my opinion, create a bench that is outstanding for cabinetmaking.

Wall-mounted Tool Rack
Author: Robert Lang
One of the most efficient ways to work at a bench is to have all your common tools in a rack right in front of and above your bench. We've built a number of designs, all of them simple and taking no more than a couple hours to build and mount. The trick is in knowing how to space the elements of the rack to accommodate the widest variety of measuring, marking and cutting tools.

Tool Review: Flush-cutting Saws
Author: Glen Huey
Flush-cutting saws allow you to trim pegs, wedges and through-tenons without marring the surrounding work. Well, that's the theory, at least. Some of these saws stink. Some are nutty expensive (more than $100), and some seem a good balance of price and performance. We bring in half a dozen of the best examples we can find and give them a workout.

Tool Techniques: Cutting Flush
Author: Glen Huey
There are a wide variety of ways to trim pegs, wedges and tenons flush to your work, from a trim router with a planing bit, a special saw, a chisel and a gouge. We examine all the methods and find the ones that require the least set-up and the best chance of success.

Become a Better Borer
Author: Christopher Schwarz
Cutting accurate, clean and square holes is a skill that will serve you well in making furniture. We examine the mechanics and ergonomics of boring by hand and by power and show you how to develop your freehand boring skills to a fine art.

Finishing Technique: Pumpkin Pine
Author: Glen Huey
One of the most desirable finish colors is what is sometimes called "pumpkin pine." It's essentially an aged, mellow and warm clear finish. Is shellac the best way to reproduce this finish on new work? If so, what is easiest and best? Is there some other technique that doesn't involve mixing flakes?

The Back Cover Poster: Sandpaper
We take a close look at this common but confusing abrasive. What is open coat? Closed coat? Stearated? P-grade? Garnet? We cut through the confusion so you'll finally understand the labels and make the right choice.

— Christopher Schwarz

I've been involved in hundreds of professional photography shoots in my journalism career, and each one is ridiculous in its own way.

Yesterday we shot the image for my forthcoming book, "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use," which is scheduled to come out in early October. So at 7 a.m., I began cleaning up the shop, which was a wreck as a result of our struggle to finish up the August issue of Popular Woodworking. I pulled the bench out from the wall and began the archaeological dig through the mountain of shaving and sawdust (ah yes, something from the Creole Table Era, circa 2006).

Then Al Parrish, our staff photographer, came in to survey the scene. He didn't like the fact that the bank of windows on the right side of the bench didn't have a tool rack and you could see the cars in our parking lot. "Can we build a tool rack?" he asked.

Today? No.

So we put some of the parts from my sideboard project in the window to obscure the Chevy pickup truck. Then the designers came in. I braced myself because designers have asked for some pretty ridiculous things of me over the years. They had one change: Designer Terri Woesner went over to my broom, picked it up and walked to my bench.

What? Not clean enough?

Terri pushed the broom into the pile of shavings and dust and then artfully sprayed the mess across our shop floor. Then she walked around the bench, positioning the shavings in a thoughtful manner, using the bristles of broom to place them.

Then Al went to work. The image above was shot with our shop lights turned off (which is how I work anyway) and one strobe positioned off to the right of the frame. He also did a little work on the image in Photoshop. Anyone notice what he changed on the bench?

— Christopher Schwarz

One of the side benefits of writing a book on workbenches is that I got to see hundreds of variations on the traditional designs, both in person and in old books. I also dug up some dead-end designs – benches that looked liked a good idea at first glance but turned out to be much more like the 8-track of the workbench world.

Both of these benches are from "The Great Tool Emporium" (Popular Science) by David X. Manners, a 1979 survey of tools both modern and archaic. The book's section on workbenches was clearly an afterthought – it shares a chapter with Dremel-style rotary tools and glue guns.

Exhibit A: From an unsourced engraving (above). This bench has a leg vise mounted on the left end of the bench. It's a loony, but not entirely stupid idea. There's a pop-up dog on the leg vise that allows you to pinch your work between it and a dog in the benchtop. You probably could use the vise for crosscutting your stock without too much trouble.

But how in the heck are you going to clamp wide boards on edge? And why is the apron on the end notched to receive the jaw of the leg vise? This prohibits some basic clamping jobs. And one minor gripe: Having your vise on the end like this could be a recipe for disaster when planing. If you slip at the end of the stroke, your plane is more likely to go crashing to the floor. That's one of the reasons it's nice to have your planing stop several inches in from the end (mine's located 12" in from the end on the Roubo). I give this bench a D+.



Exhibit B: This is a Lervad 610 "Single Technology" bench made of Danish beech and once distributed by Leichtung Inc. Check out the shoulder vise on the left. It has two jaws! One is in the traditional spot to press against the benchtop. The other is outside the dogleg section of the bench. I suppose that this outside jaw is intended for working small parts and will allow you to come in at an angle with your rasps etc. and not hit the vise.

But this extra jaw seems vestigial, the gill slits of the workbench world.

And, once again, I think this bench lacks a way for you to work the edges of long boards and assemblies. I suppose you could clamp a bench slave in the end vise on the right, but that wouldn't solve all your problems when faced with edges.

What also is interesting about this bench is how the tool tray is so short. As tool tray ideas go, this one isn't too mad. Having the open section at the rear would allow you to do some clamping on the backside of the bench. I give this bench a C.

By the way, if you are a bench nut, you really should dig into the Lervad site. There's some really cool stuff here:

• A Height-adjustable Bench: I want to try this bench.

• A Height- and Angle-adjustable Bench: A bit like the Veritas carving bench, except that it is totally insane.

• The Wacky Tool Well Bench: Why not put it here?

• Benches for Schools: This could work, as long as you don't want to teach dovetailing.

— Christopher Schwarz

The dominant style of workbench in the Western world is what we call the European form. It's the bench that Ulmia made famous and the bench that built a million cabinets in the 20th century. It was, in fact, the first "real" workbench I ever worked on at the University of Kentucky, and I got along fine with it.

So it might seem blasphemous to point out limitations of this venerable form. After all, millions of woodworkers use this bench. They love this bench. They wouldn't trade it for anything.

But here goes.

Please keep in mind that if you like your workbench, I'm not encouraging you to chop it into firewood and give it a Viking funeral. You don't need a special kind of bench to do woodworking that is extraordinary. The following is intended only to make you think about what a workbench should do with ease. (If you're interested in delving deeper into the topic, check out my eight-page article on workbench design in the June 2007 issue of Popular Woodworking.)

Each part of every workbench has pros and cons. Let's start with the base of this bench.

The Base: Most European workbenches have a trestle design as shown above. These bases can be massive (which I prefer) or can be spindly. The nice thing about this style of base is that it can be disassembled (by removing wedges or bolts) to be transported. The downside is that the trestle-style legs are inset at the front and therefore can't act as a clamping surface for long boards, panels or door assemblies. You can build a so-called bench slave (a portable stand with adjustable pegs) to help perform this function, but many other simple benches don't require this extra equipment. And, I'd like to point out, that not all European benches were made like this. Some more Germanic-looking benches had the legs flush to the front edge of the top, allowing you to use the legs as a clamping surface.

The Tool Tray:  Tool trays are great for keeping your tools at hand – and at collecting detritus. They allow you to use less raw material when making your benchtop, but they offer less support when you are working on flat panels. You don't have to have a tool tray to keep your tools close at hand. We use racks above our benches in our shop.

The Tail Vise: The L-shaped tail vise on the right side of the bench above is good for clamping panels for planing or sanding (I use a planing stop for individual boards). I like the tail vise for shooting edges of boards and doors. It's a great spreader clamp. It's superb for dovetailing narrow drawer sides. But it has demerits. You cannot work directly on the tail vise – pounding and hammering there are a no-no. Plus, I've worked on a lot of tail vises that sag as they wear. This sag lifts your work off the benchtop. Some woodworkers like to saw on the end of the bench, and the tail vise gets in the way of this. I don't saw there so it's not an issue for me.

The Face Vise: These vises are great for a lot of work on smaller workpieces. But the vise's guide bars get in the way when you are dovetailing, and the jaws rack when you clamp using only one corner of the vise (a common operation because the guide bars encourage this). Vise blocks help control the racking, but that's one more little jig to mess with.

The Benchtop Itself: Some European-style benches have a wide apron that bands a thin interior core. This apron drives me nuts when I'm trying to clamp stuff to the benchtop. Other European benches have a nice solid and thick top (as shown above) that is great for clamping. Also (and this is supposed to be a nice feature) many of the commercial versions of this bench form offer a handy drawer below the top. This drawer interferes with clamping and sometimes even with the operation of the dogs.

The Verdict: You can work around all of the limitations of a European workbench, so it's a good form. But if you are considering building it for your shop, making a few small changes to the form might make your life easier.

— Christopher Schwarz

Designing or purchasing a good workbench is one of the most vexing problems facing woodworkers. The correct combination of materials, overall dimensions and vises is the difference between a workbench that will add speed and fluidity to your work and one that will stand in your way of doing anything with ease.

For the last 10 years, I've been studying workbench design, construction and use; and I've built more than 10 different workbenches to test the theories and historical research. I've written a book on the topic that will be published in late 2007, but you can get a preview of the work at a seminar devoted to workbenches at 10 a.m. July 14 at the Lie-Nielsen Toolworks in Warren, Maine.

During this four-hour seminar, I'll present the findings using a combination of historical photos and modern recreations of centuries-old workbench designs. I’ll be demonstrating my latest workbench endeavor, a late 19th-century design from Charles Holtzapffel. And I’ll be critiquing workbench designs from attendees at the seminar – so please bring photographs of your current workbench or drawings of the bench you plan to build. I'll try to show you how to improve your existing bench or alter your design to make it ideal for working with power tools, hand tools or a combination of the two.

In addition to the personalized critiques, all attendees will receive a complete printed plan and drawings for the Holtzapffel bench, which won’t be available to the public until the fall.

If you’ve ever been stymied by the vast number of workbench designs available, this seminar will help you understand workbenches in the simplest terms possible so that the next bench you build (or buy) will be your last bench.

To register or for more details, visit the Lie-Nielsen web site.

— Christopher Schwarz

Building a workbench is a bit like childbirth. Some benches come into this world like my firstborn did, fighting the entire way and taking twice as long as expected – like the English workbench. Other benches are like my second child, where you are done before you know it.

This weekend I’m putting the finishing touches on a workbench inspired by a design shown in Charles Holtzapffel’s “Construction, Action and Application of Cutting Tools Volume II.” I built the bench because it borrows the best features from three traditions: It has massive French bones with both English and German workholding. Holtzapffel himself was a reflection of this bench, a German who lived and worked in England.

This bench was very easy and fast to build. I’ve logged only 35 hours of shop time on this bench so far and have only a couple hours of work ahead of me – mostly cleaning off pencil marks and applying a finish.

Here are some of the details of the bench. I’ll be publishing a full version of the construction details of this bench that will be available by summer, but you can download the (admittedly rough) construction drawing below.

The bench is 6' long, 24" deep and 34" high. The 3"-thick top is ash, with the base and vise chops made using hard maple. All the joints are traditional drawbored mortises and tenons. The legs and stretchers are all flush with the front (and rear) edge of the top.

The face vise is a twin-screw, with 24" between the two wooden screws. The wooden screws are 2" in diameter and move very quickly. I bought the screws off of another woodworker who lives in California. He had bought them off another guy many years ago. In other words, I don’t know where you can get another set for yourself. But I’m working on that issue right now.

The chop for the face vise (the big wooden part) is lined with leather, and both legs are bored with ¾" holes for holdfasts to support work from below. I’ve always been intrigued by vises with wooden screws, and I can report that they are remarkable. I’ve been working with this vise as the bench has come together and the wooden screws have tenacious holding power. It’s also nice that your work doesn’t get marked with grease, which happens with metal-screwed vises.

The end vise is my own doing – Holtzapffel showed a proper tail vise. I used a quick-release vise with a massive (2-3/4" x 13-1/2") maple chop. Usually, I don’t much care for quick-release vises, especially in the face vise position. The screws and guide bars prohibit you from doing many useful cabinetmaking operations, such as dovetailing.

But a quick-release vise used in the end-vise position is a fantastic proposition. The large chop and its accessory dog give you lots of support below your work. And because I bored the dog holes in the top on 3-3/8" centers, virtually all of my work is supported from below no matter how long or short it is.

You’ll notice that there’s no sliding deadman on this bench. My theory here is that I’m not going to need it, though I have built in a track for a deadman in case I am wrong. I think the twin screw and the holes in the legs will offer all the support I need for working on edges and ends of boards.

All three of the workbenches I’ve built recently, the French-style Roubo bench, the English-style Nicholson bench and the Holtzapffel cabinetmaker's bench, perform all the basic woodworking operations that a bench should. But each has a slightly different personality. So picking a favorite bench is like asking which of my children I love more. I can’t do it. They’re all good. They’re all different.

HoltzapffelBench.pdf (35.47 KB)

— Christopher Schwarz

Designing and building good workbenches has been a passion of mine for the last decade or so. I've spent years rooting around in old books and getting dusty in the shop while building benches (I think I've built 10 different kinds now). And then I've had a great time using all these benches for all sorts of woodworking with both hand and power tools.

For the last year, I've been writing a book at night and on weekends about workbenches. It was first intended as a manual for my students when I teach classes. Then it grew into a series of articles for the magazine. Then it got out of hand.

I finished the book in February, designed it and turned the whole thing over to our woodworking books division (which is run by David Thiel, a former senior editor for this magazine). They thought it was good enough to publish, so you can look for the book in early 2008. The preliminary title is "Workbenches: From Design & Theory, to Construction & Use," but that could change. The design of the book will be quite similar to Woodworking Magazine: nice paper, sepia-toned photographs, old engravings from historical books (many from Gary Roberts at The Toolemera Press) and lots and lots of words.

I'm not permitted to give out advance chapters or material on the book I'm afraid, but here is what I can tell you about my first literary effort.

• Workbench Design: The book explains the fundamental rules of good workbench design that have been largely forgotten. It explains all of the complex vises and ways of holding work so you can understand what they do. And it shows you how to use this knowledge to design a workbench using two venerable designs as basic skeletons.

• Workbench Construction: The book features extensive plans for two workbenches, including an expanded explanation of how to build the French-style Roubo workbench and complete plans for the English-style Nicholson workbench. The construction drawings are extensive and nice (they were made by Louis Bois, a draughtsman who makes the eDrawings for the Woodworking Magazine projects).

• Workbench Use: The heart of the book is on how to use the various vises and workshop jigs to actually hold work on your bench so you can work on it. While you don't need a good workbench to do world-class work, it certainly takes away one of the biggest obstacles: workholding.

Also, I think it's important to say what this book is not. It's not going to offer you a tour of workbenches both unusual and typical from around the globe. I think that the current crop of workbench books have done a good job of showing the wide variety of solutions out there. Instead, this book is an attempt to explain the principles of good workbench design that you can use to build any style of bench.

When I have more information on the release of the book, including where it will be available and its price, I'll post it here. So stay tuned.

— Christopher Schwarz

I’ve looked at a lot of old workbenches, and I’ve never seen many that exhibit signs of being flattened. I always look at toolmarks on the benches and what I typically find are toolmarks that are recent and some that are quite old – based on the patina of the gouged wood and the amount of grime that has accumulated.

So benchtop flatness is a red herring, right? Maybe. If you work a lot on a bench that isn’t flat, you’ll see it affect your work. A low spot in the top will prevent you from planing the middle of a board. You’ll only be able to plane the ends of the board.

One possible solution is that woodworkers who toiled on less-than-ideal benches would use a planing board. Planing boards are thick assemblies that you lay over your benchtop and are set up to restrain the work. I first stumbled on them in the book “Modern Practical Joinery” by George Ellis. Despite its “modern” title, it’s an old book.

I made a planing board using Ellis’s description and text, and it works quite well. It’s an unusual piece of work: It’s a frame assembly and inside the frame are seven slats that float in grooves and can be slid a bit back and forth. Here’s where it gets a bit odd: The frame’s rails and stiles are 1-3/8” thick; the slats are 1-1/2” thick. The slats are proud on the bottom of the planing board. The top of the planing board is cleaned up flat and flush all around.

The differing thicknesses, I believe, might keep the whole thing flatter in the end. The center of the planing board will always be planted on the benchtop. You can easily true the underside because it is proud and then flip the thing over and true the whole thing. That’s a working theory. I have a few others as well.

There are two planing stops at the end that adjust up and down. You can also restrain work for cross-grain planing by inserting wedges between the slat and pushing the work up against the wedges. This works great.

And how do you keep the planing board on your bench? The book is quiet on this. I have mine pinched between dogs and against a dog at the back of the bench. I’m going to change this arrangement this weekend. I plan to put a hook on the front edge (just like on a bench hook for sawing). And then I’ll push the thing against a planing stop in use. There’s no need to have a tail vise.

On construction: I’ve included a pdf file below you can download if you like. Here’s the cutting list:

2 Stiles: 1-3/8” x 4” x 36-1/8”
2 Rails: 1-3/8” x 4” x 18-1/2” (1-1/4”-long tenon on both ends)
7 Slats: 1-1/2” x 3-7/8” x 16-3/4” (3/8” x 3/8” stub tenon on both ends)

After dressing your stock, plow a 3/8” x 3/8” groove down one long edge of each stile. Cut 3/8”-thick x 1-1/4”-long haunched tenons on the ends of the rails. Cut matching mortises in the stiles. Cut the 3/8” x 3/8” stub tenons on the ends of the slats.

Bore the two 3/8” x 2” through-tenons in one rail for the planing stops.

Dry-assemble the frame, clamp it up and make sure the slats will move when the assembly is put together. If everything works, glue up the frame and clamp it. When the glue is dry, dress the underside of the planing tray flat. Then flip it over and dress the entire top surface flat. Fit your planing stops and get a few wedges you can insert between the slats.

planingboard.pdf (24.91 KB)

— Christopher Schwarz

The Croix de St. Pierre, from page 211 of “The Amateur Carpenter and Builder” from the early 20th century. Image courtesy of Gary Roberts.

One of the biggest complaints about leg vises is having to engage some sort of secondary mechanism to keep the jaw parallel as you advance it and to act as a pivot point when squeezing the work. I have a bar in my tail vise that is bored with a series of holes. By moving a steel pin into the correct hole I can control the parallelism of the jaw and set the jaw for different thicknesses. I’m so used to it that I don’t think much about it and it has become part of the natural rhythm of my work.

However, if you don’t like stooping, you won’t like having to do this.

One solution, which is presumably French, is called “Croix de St. Pierre.” I’ve seen it in action on a commercial leg vise and it is ingenious. It is, essentially, two flat pieces of steel that are joined by a hinge in the center, much like scissors, forming an “X” shape. At the top of the X, one end is attached to the bench; the other to the jaw of the vise. The two ends at the bottom run in grooves in the jaw and leg of the bench. The scissors action of the X keeps the jaws parallel as you work.

I’ve always meant to make one of these devices myself for a leg vise, but I’ve always been satisfied with the occasional stoop to move the steel pin.

— Christopher Schwarz

Every Tuesday night we ritually torture our children with a meal that we call “New Food Night.” The kids have to eat something they’ve never eaten before – this week was coq au vin, but we’ve ranged as far as ostrich and bison. In exchange for eating the new dish, the kids get one U.S. dollar and a small prize, usually a small plastic animal.

After a couple years of this schedule my girls have become accustomed to it (or they are suffering from Stockholm Syndrome). But some nights are rough. The most difficult dinner of all was when I made homemade chicken noodle soup. Tears – enormous ones. Shaky bottom lips. Slumping in the seats to a horizontal position.

All for chicken, wide egg noodles, carrots, celery and broth.

Every year I torture myself on Jan. 1 by forcing myself to put away some beloved tools and start using tools that I haven’t embraced. For 2006, I put away my traditional bench planes and used Veritas bevel-up planes: a jack, jointer and smoother. After 12 months of hard use, I’m glad I did it. I now know the limitations and advantages of these tools. First the bad: I still don’t dig the location of the adjuster (it’s too low) or the shape of the handles (which I can fix with a rasp). But then the good: I really like the low center of gravity. I also like how you can tighten up the mouth to admit one-half of a gnat’s hinder with little effort. And I really like how you can hone an ultra-high angle on the blade to make a plane that mocks interlocked, reversing exotic woods.

So on Jan. 1 of 2007, I set the bevel-up tools aside and took out my Sauer & Steiner unhandled York-pitch smoothing plane. I have made peace with this tool and it is a great user, but I don’t grab it automatically whenever I need to do some general smoothing. Maybe I’m not familiar enough with the grip – there’s no tote on this plane. Plus, there’s no mechanical blade adjuster or lateral adjustment lever.

But whether the thing turns out to be chicken soup or coq au vin, this is its year.

Its first major task was finishing up the top of this English Workbench for a photo shoot on Thursday. After completing the bench, I started building the accessories you need: bench hooks, a sticking board and some stuff that grabs round and octagonal work. The sticking board, which is designed for holding long, narrow work for shaping, is about 6’ long. When I placed it on the bench I noticed it wasn’t sitting flat on the top. At first I thought it was the sticking board that was bowed. But after jointing the sticking board again and checking everything with straightedges, I determined there was a hollow in the middle of the benchtop, right up at the front of the bench.

This is the worst place for a hollow in your benchtop. Period.

So I went to work with a jointer plane, working diagonally across the top both ways. Then I worked with the grain of the top with the jointer plane, and then with the Sauer & Steiner smooth plane. Sweet. I checked my work with feeler gauges. I did this out of curiosity – not habit. I get asked all the time how flat a benchtop needs to be for handwork. Until today my answer has been: Flat enough so your work doesn’t bow under planing pressure.

That’s not a good answer. So with the feeler gauges and the straightedges I determined that I shoot for a top that is flat in the critical working area (the front half of the bench) to about .004” along 6’. Is that extreme? I don’t know. But that’s when my work started to behave predictably under the planes.

So is this a good start to the year? I don’t know. I’ll have to noodle it.

– Christopher Schwarz

Reader Jon Pile writes about the parallel guide bar in a leg vise: "The parallel guide bar is, in my humble opinion, a cruel joke perpretrated by some historical prankster. I have been using an angled leg vise for a couple years now, and removing the guide bar was the first modification.

Instead, grab a piece of maple, cut it down to 1" x 2" x 3", and let it dangle on the bench leg with a foot of butcher's twine. When you open the jaws of the vise, just turn the block so the appropriate side acts as a standoff.

Wider stuff? Find a wider piece of scrap. Skinny stuff? Swing the block out of the way altogether.

Infinitely variable. Simple and bulletproof – and I can reach down and adjust my "parallel guide," left-handed, without looking at it.

Please, I'm begging, don't let the swiss-cheese-looking parallel guide insanity continue any further!

As for thickness (of the leg vise's jaw), I started with a 2x6 of white oak and found that it still flexed too much! I doubled up on thickness – it's 3-1/4" thick now – and finally I'm happy. With this setup, I have applied enough torque to shear off the 3/4" maple pin that held my bench top to the legs. Also easily repaired and improved."

I tried the Pile Block (patent applied for) in my leg vise today. I made it exactly as he described and tied it through a holdfast hole in the leg that I use when dovetailing.

The block works as advertised, which is no surprise. Levers and physics work as advertised. But I’m going to need to develop some muscle memory with the block before I rip out my parallel guide. The nice thing about the parallel guide is that I work in stock that is 5/8”, 3/4” and 7/8” thick.

So for the most part, I never move the pin in my parallel guide. It stays in the first hole and can clamp the usual stuff. (By the way, that sweet-spot hole in my guide is ½” from the inside of the vise jaw).

A few other details: I wondered if the block would be handy with an angled leg vise (which is what is on my new English Workbench). With that bench, the parallel guide prevents the jaw from spinning when you crank the vise’s handle. Jon responded to that by saying that his leg vise was angled, and that he merely had the foot of the jaw resting on the floor, which kept it from spinning.

I think the real sexy solution to the parallel guide is St. Peter’s Cross, a French invention that (apparently) revolutionized the leg vise. Even the British raved about St. Peter.

— Christopher Schwarz

One hole should reinforce the planing stop, as shown. The stop is clamped into the face vise. The hold down supports the end of the stop when working wider panels.

It’s easy to overdo it and drill holdfast holes that you’ll never use in your workbench. Or (even worse) you'll drill holes in the wrong place, but only by a bit. My recommendation: Start with four holes in your benchtop and ponder any additional holes in your bench like you would a new body piercing.

Here’s the philosophy on the four holes: The first hole is on the end of the bench where my two metal planing stops are (which I don't cotton to) and is 6” in from the back edge of the workbench. This hole does a lot of things, but its most important job is reinforcing a shop-made planing stop that clamps into your leg vise. To drill the hole, position your stop in your vise so it is clamped where you want it. Then drill a hole that is tangent to the stop and 6” from the back edge of the bench. My Veritas Hold Downs use a ¾”-diameter hole. Check your holdfasts before boring.

The remainder of the holes are based on the reach of the holdfast. You want your holdfasts to reach all along the back edge of your bench with no dead spots. This allows you to clamp battens down anywhere along the back edge of the bench, which will support your work from the side.

The Veritas Hold Down has a reach of about 9”, so I subtracted a bit from that reach and drilled my holes on 16” centers. All of the holes are 6” in from the back edge of the benchtop.

— Christopher Schwarz

As I built this an English-style workbench (the finish goes on tomorrow), I also developed a list of a dozen or so rules for building workbenches that really work. Allow me to share with you three of the rules that are critical.

Rule No. 1: Always overbuild your workbench. There is a saying in boatbuilding: If it looks fair, it is fair. For workbenches, here’s my maxim: If it looks stout, then make it doubly so. Everything about a workbench takes punishment that is akin to a kitchen chair in a house of 8-year-old boys.

Rule No. 2: Always overbuild your workbench. Use the best joinery that you can. These are times to whip out the through-tenon, the dovetail, whatever you got.

Rule No. 3: You must remain married as you overbuild your workbench. Every project is a strain on my everyday life (my job, plus my freelance work, teaching, plus building on the side). And whenever I build a workbench, I feel soreness in my joints and sorry for my family. If something isn’t quite right on a project, I’ll tear it out and start again. A bench has got to be perfect – like building a highboy, but in a different way.

The leg vise was the most recent handful of sand in my Speedo. Made using 1-1/4”-thick maple, the jaw was a serious piece of woodland ordinance. But when I put it into service, I had some small misgivings. It would clamp like a bulldog, but the jaw would flex more than the other white ash leg vises I’ve built. The maple didn’t crack, creak or show evidence of failure. But whenever I ask myself a question about a project, the act of asking it provides the answer. I had to remake the leg vise to be happy.

So I headed out to the lumber supplier. They wanted $150 for an 8/4 maple board that was 6” wide and 8’ long. That’s too rich for my blood after Christmas. So I paid a visit to my personal lumber supplier (this feels a lot like drug dealing, not that I know anything about buying narcotics). He has 8/4 overthick white ash. He wants $100 total for eight kiln-dried boards that are 8” to 13” wide and 7’ long.

Sold.

I remake the vise jaw. I remake the parallel guide out of figured oak (which is as dense as petrified wood). The grain blows out when I poke it with holes. (To the firewood pile with you.) Two more parallel guides later, I have one that makes me happy.

On Saturday I install the new vise jaw and add leather facings to the jaw and bench – these leather liners are actually small suede scraps made by Tandy leather and sold by Michael’s craft store. I highly recommend adding the leather. It makes a big difference.



I built the shelf, and added a 3/16” bead to the shelf’s tongue-and-groove joints using my Clark & Williams beading plane. It’s one of my favorite tools of all time. (Thanks Larry Williams and Don McConnell.) Then some inevitable clean-up. Then I had to scoot home to make dinner for a hungry family. I was expecting some dark looks because of my continued absence. But they were happy to see me. I think that’s because the bench is just about done.

— Christopher Schwarz

Question: I'm watching your commentary on this one quite carefully: I'm planning to build a bench this year or next and have wondered about torsion boxes instead of slabs. Also, could you post a picture of the hinge at the bottom of that leg vise?

— Karl Rookey

It's not really a hinge at the bottom of the leg vise, but it does pivot. The piece of wood pierced with holes is called a parallel guide. It prevents the vise's jaw from twirling like a helicopter blade and acts as a pivot point for the vise.

To use the guide, you place the steel pin in one of the holes that matches (as close as possible) the thickness of the work you are securing. As you screw the vise closed, the pin butts against the leg (as shown above) and the top of the jaw pivots toward your work. It's remarkably efficient and strong.

Some details: The parallel guide is slightly smaller (11/16" thick) than the mortise through the leg (3/4"). The closer the fit, the smoother the action. The parallel guide is secured to the vise jaw with a wedged through-tenon. The countersunk holes in the guide are 3/8" in diameter and are on 1" centers. Each row of holes is offset by ½", so you essentially get a hole every ½". The hole positioned between the two rows is ½" from the vise jaw.

The pin is 3/8" in diameter, 6" long and steel. It has a rubber O-ring on it that has a 5/16" interior dimension (the 3/8" I.D. O-rings will slip off your pin).

The leg vise is a remarkable piece of engineering that I enjoy working with. It's inexpensive, easy to make and grippy as all get-out.

— Christopher Schwarz

I had a girlfriend in high school who had two unusual characteristics. Lynette was a drama major (not a recommended trait in girlfriends) and her father owned a sweet-looking MG convertible. Whenever I would go to her house for dinner, her father would be under the hood of the vehicle, wrench in hand, until the fried okra hit the dinner table.

The MG was always in need of something, and Lynette’s dad had to do it himself. This was, after all, Arkansas. And anything that wasn’t built in Detroit elicited stares from the townsfolk.

This week, I’m beginning to get the same feeling about the English-style workbench I’m finishing up in the shop. Except for a detail or two, the bench is built. (The photo above was taken before I added the shelf below the top.) But I’m finding that – like its British four-banger brethren – the bench is a bit needy.

For example, I flattened the top last week, but it’s a bit out of true this week. So I flattened it again. I’m also wondering if the top is stiff enough to withstand heavy planing. The top is 1-1/2” thick and supported by bearers beneath, but it still has an almost imperceptible springy feel that gives me pause. Will it make a difference in my day-to-day work? I don’t know. But I am going to add a couple more ribs on the underside of the top to see if I can stiffen things up.

Perhaps the problem here is that I’m comparing this bench to the Roubo-style French bench I built in 2005. The top to that bench is almost 4” thick and is unyielding to all punishment. But that bench took twice as long to build and required three times the material.

Clearly, I need to take the English bench for more of a test drive.

As I’ve begun breaking in the bench by working on it, I have found some things about it that are quite nice. The angled leg vise is fantastic. The large front apron is an excellent means of supporting long and wide work with little effort. And I’ve actually been clamping stuff to the benchtop without too much trouble at its ends.

Bottom line: I go through this process with all projects. I start with great optimism as I begin a project. After a series of highs and lows, I complete the project. I stand back, take a look and focus on its flaws, the project’s frustrations and my mistakes. Then, after I put the project into use, I mellow. The flaws fade and I’m able to see the project for what it is – somewhere between the optimism and the despair.

I hope this is also true with the bench. It sure didn’t happen with Lynette (or her dad’s MG). He sold the green convertible and Lynette dumped me for one of the officers of the drama club.

— Christopher Schwarz

Whenever I build a piece of furniture, I keep a log of the time I spend at each step in construction: 60 minutes to glue the top, 75 minutes to cut the mortises and tenons, 30 minutes to remake a munged-up apron.

The reason I keep this record is a bit of mystery to me. I immediately pitch the chicken-scratched log when I purge the shop of the shavings, scraps and screw-ups at the end of a project. But before I cast the log into the burn pile, I always add up the minutes I’ve marked there and marvel at how few hours there are in my life that are spent actually woodworking. I spend most of my days dealing with woodworking: writing about it, reading about it, answering questions about it, thinking about it. But when it comes down to counting the minutes I spend with my hands on the tools, I always feel like I’ve been cheated.

Now I don’t like to get too philosophical about something so physical, but the hours (even minutes) that I spend at woodworking are some of the best waking moments I have. And recently an acquaintance named Brian Welch passed on to me a passage from chapter 18 Henry David Thoreau’s “Walden” that seized me by the shoulders and shook me good. Some part of this passage is certain to end up in the next issue of Woodworking Magazine, but I wanted to share the full text with you here:

“There was an artist in the city of Kouroo who was disposed to strive after perfection. One day it came into his mind to make a staff. Having considered that in an imperfect work time is an ingredient, but into a perfect work time does not enter, he said to himself, ‘It shall be perfect in all respects, though I should do nothing else in my life.’

“He proceeded instantly to the forest for wood, being resolved that it should not be made of unsuitable material; and as he searched for and rejected stick after stick, his friends gradually deserted him, for they grew old in their works and died, but he grew not older by a moment. His singleness of purpose and resolution, and his elevated piety, endowed him, without his knowledge, with perennial youth. As he made no compromise with Time, Time kept out of his way, and only sighed at a distance because he could not overcome him. Before he had found a stock in all respects suitable the city of Kouroo was a hoary ruin, and he sat on one of its mounds to peel the stick. Before he had given it the proper shape the dynasty of the Candahars was at an end, and with the point of the stick he wrote the name of the last of that race in the sand, and then resumed his work.

“By the time he had smoothed and polished the staff Kalpa was no longer the pole-star; and ere he had put on the ferule and the head adorned with  precious stones, Brahma had awoke and slumbered many times. But why do I stay to mention these things? When the finishing stroke was put to his work, it suddenly expanded before the eyes of the astonished artist into the fairest of all the creations of Brahma. He had made a new system in making a staff, a world with full and fair proportions; in which, though the old cities and dynasties had passed away, fairer and more glorious ones had taken their places. And now he saw by the heap of shavings still fresh at his feet, that, for him and his work, the former lapse of time had been an illusion, and that no more time had elapsed than is required for a single scintillation from the brain of Brahma to fall on and inflame the tinder of a mortal brain. The material was pure, and his art was pure; how could the result be other than wonderful?”

This afternoon I got in my truck on my day off and braved the traffic to go to the office (which is by Kenwood Towne Centre – the center of all things commercial in Cincinnati) to do a little work on the leg vise for my English Workbench.

I logged only 75 minutes, but it was the best month of the entire day.

— Christopher Schwarz

Next to my workbench at home, I keep an antique tool chest that has a tricky, sticky and unpredictable lock. Most days, I can open the chest with ease. I rotate the key. The cylinders turn. The lid lifts to reveal tools, hardware and supplies that I use every day.

But every so often, the lock refuses to work. I rotate the key. The cylinders turn. The lid sticks. I curse and then repeat the process until the lid opens. However, a couple times during the last decade, no amount of fiddling would open the chest. And instead of reaching for a wrecking bar, I’d just walk away and come back to the chest later on.

Some days, I get that same uncertain feeling in my chest whenever I get ready to flatten and join some boards that are particularly long, wide or wild. Today was one of those days as I set out to flatten the top of my work-in-progress: an English-style workbench. The section of benchtop that was on deck this afternoon was 22” wide and 8’ long. It was reasonably flat, but it needed to be really flat to sit tight onto the base of the bench.

Some days, it doesn’t matter how skilled you are. Or how many times you’ve trued up a slab of wonky wood. Some days the wood wins and you go home with your tail between your legs.

The first challenge when dealing with wide and long panels is finding a place to work on them. With this section of the top, the answer was simple. I placed it on the base itself and pushed it against the heads of a couple screws that I placed into the holes that eventually will join the base to the top.

The ends were a little out of true and some quick work with a fore plane across the grain brought them into line with the center section of the top. A couple passes diagonally across the top with the fore plane got the surface flat enough to push against the fence of our powered jointer.

Senior Editor Glen Huey looked over as I was working the top and offered (sincerely, but with a twinkle in his eye) to put the benchtop in his truck and run it through his wide-belt sander in his shop at home.

I declined, saying that the exercise with the fore plane would allow me to justify drinking a second beer tonight after work. Glen smiled and nodded his head.

All was going well, but edge-jointing the top piece was another tricky piece of work. It’s another part of a project that can go wrong for no good reason. I jointed the edge. I jointed its mate and showed them to one another. I was shooting for a spring joint and I got one, but it was a little strong on one end of the top.

Undeterred, I straightened out the end with a few passes of a block plane. Within a few minutes the whole top was glued up and clamped with a tight seam all along the 8’ top.

I had earned an extra beer, and the tool chest didn’t win this round.

— Christopher Schwarz

Tonight I attempted to make my first serious loaf of bread, and I learned something about woodworking benches.

Now, I don’t like to talk much about my life outside the magazine. It’s fairly dull, I can assure you, and it would be (even more) boring to read about than what’s on the blog now. But here’s an important detail: I’m just as passionate about cooking as I am about woodworking. Both are in my blood – my mother has run or cheffed for several restaurants and catering businesses; plus my father, uncle and grandfather were all woodworkers, carpenters or boatbuilders in their spare time.

This year I’ve been trying to improve my baking skills. And bread – traditional yeast, water, salt and flour – is at the top of my list. So for the last couple days I’ve been working hard in the kitchen – between bouts of editing and writing – and for dinner tonight, I served my first scratch loaf.

It looked beautiful. Smelled perfect. Was crispy on the outside and moist and tender on the inside. But it was not good bread. My poor family choked down one piece each (butter is an excellent lubricant). I stuck it out through three pieces.

I still don’t know what the heck went wrong. I’ve been studying for weeks. I practiced with several quick breaks (foccacia and Irish soda bread – both victories). But the simplest yeast bread is just not in my grasp yet.

So what does this have to do with workbenches? Glad you asked. This perfect loaf reminded me a lot of the workbenches I see in shops all over the country. They are beautiful. They look exactly like what we expect a bench to look like – classic Platonic realism.

But when we try to use them, one of two things happens. We immediately realize the bench’s shortcomings and either try to fix them or we turn our backs on them (and get a refund.) This is exactly like what my daughter Maddy did this evening. She took one bite of my bread, one huge gulp of milk and went back to the flounder.

Or we assume that this is the way all workbenches are. That our frustrations with it are caused by our own lack of skills or knowledge. That perhaps we need to just keep plugging away at it and then we’ll finally get it.

This is me in a nutshell. I ate three pieces of that mass of weird-tasting flour. And I’ve also worked for years with workbenches that have held me back.  

I’m not saying I have all of the answers here – not for bread and not for benches. But I do know that to really make progress on bread, I’m going to have to do what I did to build a better workbench. I’m going to have to look outside of my own experience. I’m going to have to admit that I cannot fix this myself and consult someone who can.

For workbenches, I started reading and listening to people who seemed on the fringes of modern woodworking. For bread, I’m going to head downtown to a tiny flour-covered bakery in the early morning and start asking questions.

— Christopher Schwarz

Every piece of lumber has three kinds of surfaces: edges, faces and ends. A good workbench should be able to hold your lumber so you can easily work on these three kinds of surfaces. Any bench that falls short of this basic requirement will hold you back as your woodworking skills advance.

It took me 30 years or so to finally come to this conclusion – 30 years of frustrating fits and starts, observation and – eventually – success. And though this maxim above sounds so obvious when written down, it eludes many woodworkers who set out to build their own benches and many manufacturers of commercial workbenches.

I’ve built more than my fair share of benches, and now I’m attempting one more. For me, these workbenches are like building a terrarium and watching how things blossom or rot based on the design. It’s one of the reasons I build workbenches out of Southern yellow pine. The expense (and therefore risk) is pretty low. Plus, if you look hard at the data on the species I think you’ll uncover the gift of this species. Here’s a hint: E value.

This latest workbench is what like to call an English bench. It is different in many respects than the French-style bench I built in 2005 based on Jacques-Andre Roubo’s drawings. And it’s also markedly different than what is commonly called the Continential workbench, which has many variants.

The English bench, which shows up in Peter Nicholson’s “Mechanic’s Companion” (1831), is essentially a torsion box in design. It uses a minimum amount of materials (about one-third of the wood required for a same-sized Roubo bench) and a lot less glue. The top of an English bench is thinner and is made stiff by the wide front aprons and interior ribs. The Roubo bench relies on mass. My Roubo-style bench has 25 boards in it and used up a half gallon of Titebond. My English bench (which will need very little more glue) has used up less than half of one of those little bottles you get at Lowe’s.

My bench isn’t a blatant copy of Nicholson’s. The legs are angled at 20°, a feature I found on a number of vintage benches I’ve had the privilege to examine. (The legs are not angled to resist planing forces in my opinion – more on that later.) And I added a wagon vise (surprise). This might be a mistake. Or, more likely, mere excess.



The workbench illustrated in Peter Nicholson's book.

I’ve logged every minute I’ve been working on this bench and the big chunks of time all deal with the vise plus its square and angled dog holes. If I had to do this bench again…. Well I hope I do not have to do it again.

I get accused sometimes of pushing each bench design on our magazine’s readers as the end-all in workbenches. If it comes off that way, I apologize. My intent is only to show one of the many ways I’ve discovered to make a bench that will actually work and will not suck up a year of your free time. (By the way, this bench will not be published in either magazine. It’s for my workshop at home.)

For what it’s worth, this English bench (even with the wagon vise) is the easiest workbench I’ve ever built. Well, except for the one I built that was a door screwed to two sawhorses. I’m looking forward to putting it to work, but right now it looks like a stranger in the shop.

— Christopher Schwarz

Question: A couple of questions regards to my Roubo bench project:
 
1. Regarding laminating the top: I'm not the best laminator in the world. I
have about a dozen small cracks on both top and bottom of the Southern
yellow pine top. Tried filling them first with Titebond III, then Hot Stuff
Special T (sold at Lee Valley), and the Veritas cabinetmaker's glue. Mixed
results from all three products. Most common result is a crack that's mostly
filled with small "swiss cheese" type holes in the dried glue. Can you
recommend anything for this dilemma that looks good once planed down?
 
2. Phil Koontz holdfast diameters: Just ordered the large holdfasts from
Phil Koontz and his (Jake) the Russian buddy. According to your article,
these work best in a 11/16" diameter hole. According to one of Phil's galoot
bulletin board messages, he recommends the large holdfasts go in a 3/4"
hole, and the regular-sized holdfast in a 11/16" hole. Before drilling, I
called Phil. His bottom line is that hole size doesn't matter; that if I use
a 11/16" hole, I'll wind up knocking the holdfast around a bit, till the wear
and tear of the hole loosens it up a bit. What say you?
 
Thanks again for your helpful advice, and the tremendous work you and your
team do at Woodworking Magazine! I'll be in Afghanistan for the next year
(starting in January – I'm an Army Colonel –trying to get this project
completed!), and won't be able to do much woodworking, but know that your
magazine will keep me informed and entertained.

Mark in La Crosse, Wisconsin

Answer: On my first workbench I had an area where the top either delaminated or I didn't fit the parts well. I filled the area with epoxy (you can buy it in a variety of viscosities). Once the epoxy dries, you can plane it flush with a block plane.

Here are some other strategies:

If the crack is too serious for epoxy, I'd glue a wedge in there. Or, if the crack is irregular, I'd run a handsaw in the split and then glue a wedge in there.

If the crack is too serious for a wedge, I saw the top apart at the lamination, dress the two edges and glue them back together.

Or (final option) accept the crack as a lesson learned on a workbench instead of a lesson learned it on a highboy. Every time you see the crack, you'll be reminded to do better.

On Phil's holdfasts: You need a tight hole on a thick workbench or one with softwood. If your bench is a la Roubo (4" thick), then use the tight hole. If your benchtop is more ... uh... modern in thickness (2-3/4" or so and made from beech) then 3/4" will work.

Here's my best advice on that: Make a sample hole in a sample chunk that matches your benchtop in species and thickness. Clamp the chunk in a vise and try out the holdfasts.

But don't worry too much. Phil's holdfasts work great in almost any conditions.

Good luck overseas!

— Christopher Schwarz

So I like my wagon vise quite a bit and have been giving it a nice workout during the last week or so. I think it's a keeper. (And good thing, considering the massive chasm in the benchtop.) So to finish off the vise, I bought a nice little European-style backplate for the vise's end cap from Whitechapel Ltd. Hardware – nice stuff, by the way.

I think I must be hanging around planemaker Wayne Anderson a bit too much. It's not like me to embellish my benches with unnecessary finery.

As I was nailing the plate in place, I couldn't help reflecting on an excellent piece I just read in The New Atlantis called "Shop Class as Soulcraft" by Matthew B. Crawford. It is one of the most thoughtful pieces of writing about the decline of craftsmanship and the rise of industrial capitalism I've ever read. Crawford is a woodworker, former motorcycle repairman, former electrical contractor and a postdoctoral fellow at the Institute for Advanced Studies in Material Culture at the University of Virginia.

It's a stunning article. Sit down with a cool drink this evening and take it in.

— Christopher Schwarz

The best thing about this weblog (besides attending the endless cocaine parties) is getting to hear the opinions of other woodworkers. After posting photos of the wagon vise I adapted from the circa 1920s La Forge Royale catalog, I received a lot of emails from people who suspected what I suspected: The tail end of the wagon vise looked weak.

The feedback was a like having a dozen voices in my head – but in a good way.

So last night I attempted to set things right. I added an end cap to the end of the bench. The cap is 1-1/4”-thick yellow birch and is bolted to the benchtop with four 3/8” x 6”-long lag bolts and fender washers. I had to make a new sliding block for the dog to ensure the dog would travel enough to be useful, but otherwise the modifications were only a couple hours of work in total.

After installing the end cap and reinstalling all the vise hardware, I went ahead and flattened the entire benchtop and trimmed the end cap to fit the end of the bench. This end cap will prevent the end of the bench from ever splitting out. This sounds like tough talk. Well, it’s a tough vise. I closed the screw as tightly as I could manage and nothing was budging anywhere. It was completely solid.

But is it useful for woodworking?

Today I chatted at length with Joel Moskowitz at Tools for Working Wood. Joel is a great touchstone for me when it comes to traditional benches (it was his copy of Andre Roubo’s book that inspired this bench in the first place).

Here’s what he had to say: “I’m not so sure about the wagon vise.”



The underside of the wagon vise. The sliding vise block is shaped like an upside-down 'T' with the wide part of the 'T' riding in the tracks below the benchtop. The tracks prevent the block from drooping or riding up. They do this quite well.

It’s a fair point. This style of vise is authentic, but it is a rare and historic footnote. I’ve seen a lot more engravings of wagon vises than I’ve seen in the flesh. Rob Cosman, the DVD host and Canadian distributor for Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, has made at least one of these vises and really likes them. But the majority of the bench-using world seems to prefer a tail vise. Or a twin-screw. Or something else.



A look at the completed wagon vise. In addition to being able to clamp flat work between dogs, the vise allows you to clamp odd-shaped work (spindles? spokes?) between the vise jaw and benchtop.

Here’s the way I look at things: Just because an idea didn’t catch on doesn’t
mean it’s stupid. The Stanley No. 62 (the low-angle jack) never was a successful tool in its day, but the modern versions from Lie-Nielsen and Veritas are extraordinary tools. Period. Things change (such as manufacturing technology), and timing is important.

So is the time right for a wagon vise? No clue. I think the vise is as useful as any tail vise I’ve used, and it is a simpler mechanism that is now easier to make using modern tooling (this sounds like the same arguments for the modern low-angle jack planes).

But who knows? As I told Joel: “We’ll know in a year if the wagon vise is worth a darn.” That year-long trial period starts today.

— Christopher Schwarz

Retrofitting anything to a bench is generally one of those things that looks great on a bar napkin, but when it’s all said and done, you’re ready for a drink. These retrofits rarely go as well as planned.

So when I got it in my head to add a wagon vise to my Roubo-style workbench, I should have first listened to the little voice in my head, but I didn't hear it. Perhaps I stuffed its mouth full of bar napkins. What’s a wagon vise? It’s basically a simplified tail vise that is used to pinch your work between bench dogs. The vise is a screw that is fixed to a bench dog and the whole mechanism is integrated into the benchtop. There’s no dovetailed assembly to build around a tail vise frame. You just need a mortise in your benchtop. A really big mortise – something big enough to bury a small animal in. (If I understand the root word correctly – that’s a joke.)

A page from La Forge Royale's catalog that made me ponder a wagon vise. The handle that turns the screw is shown disconnected. It made me wonder if perhaps it was removable because it's shown disconnected in every plate. And the sculptor's vise, which is similar, shows the handle integrated into the mechanism.

So I bought a small screw from Rockler for $23 and drew up the plan. Within the hour I was whaling away at the benchtop with a Ray Iles mortise chisel. The top is 4" thick and the mortise is 2-1/8" wide and about 9" long. I defined the mortise all around with the chisel, which game me nice sharp corners, and then I bored out the rest of the waste with an auger bit. First the auger bit was in my Pexto 12" brace. Then, after the headiness wore off, I chucked it in the corded drill.

The way I mounted the screw on the first go around worked OK, but I was afraid it would pull itself apart eventually. So I reworked the way the screw mounted to the bench and was pleased. That is, until I mounted the block of wood that held the movable bench dog.

The metal screw was a sloppy fit in its threads. It would wobble freely. When the vise was disengaged the end with the bench dog would droop down significantly. So I screwed a shelf standard below the block to support it. That worked, but when the screw was engaged the block of wood would rise up above the benchtop.

Gads, I hate sloppy mechanisms.

So I took the whole thing apart and reworked the underside radically. The block of wood with the bench dog now runs in a track beneath the benchtop. The track keeps the dog from drooping or rising up. It works great now.



By constraining the block of wood that contains the bench dog I stopped the dog from rising up when engaged against the work.

Except I’m a bit worried about the longevity of the thing. I wish there were more meat left where the bench screw enters the benchtop. If someone really wanted to, I imaginge they could bust out the end of the bench. I sized the vise's components as shown based on the old French illustrations that showed the wagon bench, plus I sized it so I didn’t reduce the travel of the bench screw.



In hindsight, I wish I'd left more of the benchtop at right, by the bushing. It feels solid now, but if anyone ever borrows my bench, I'll worry about this part.

So the little two-hour diversion turned into an 8-hour obsession. My coworkers were giving me odd looks by the end of the day. But the sucker works.

Now about that sliding leg vise…. I seem to have one more napkin left.

— Christopher Schwarz

Regarding benchtops, how flat is flat enough?  When I use winding sticks on my top, they line up, but it cups down its length by about 1/16" at its center.  How anal should I be with this?  

— Jason Myre

Benchtop flatness seems more important for hand work than for machine work. If you work mostly with power tools, I'd say a 1/16" cup down the middle is fine. Your machines (a planer and a jointer) will help ensure your wood is flat. You'll mostly be clamping your work to your bench to rout it, biscuit it and so forth.

In handwork, the benchtop is more of a reference surface, so I'd get it as flat as your skills allow.

It's not difficult with a No. 7 handplane, commonly called a jointer plane. Set the iron to take a decent bite – you want shavings that are as thick as two sheets of typing paper. Work directly across the grain of the top to bring the high edges of the top down to the valley in the middle. Then work diagonally with the plane – work 45° one way and then the 45° other. Then finish up with strokes with the grain.

It's quick work.

What is interesting to me about this question is that benchtop flatness doesn't get discussed much in the early texts. I wonder sometimes if we make too much of it (like we do with plane sole flatness and the like). Or perhaps benchtop flatness was so important that it was unspoken. There is indirect evidence that a flat surface was key. George Ellis's "Modern Practical Joinery" gives plans for a "panel board" on page 38. It is essentially a workshop jig that sits on top of your benchtop and holds panels and thin work for planing. Ellis notes that it is useful for providing a "clearer and truer surface than is provided by the ordinary bench top."

My personal habit is to flatten my benchtop once a year or so. Not only does a flat benchtop make my handplaning more predictable, but it also clears off the stains and gunk that accumulate on it, which reduces the chance that the gunk will get on a piece of pristine work.

This letter also prompted me to go out and check my benchtop with a straightedge. I also am developing a cup down the middle. My cup is the thickness of two sheets of paper. I might be due for a quick flattening session/mild aerobic workout.

— Christopher Schwarz

Below you will find a SolidWorks "live model" for the Roubo-style Workbench I built for the Autumn 2005 issue. This nifty drawing was prepared by Louis Bois – a reader, mechanical draughtsman and all-around interesting fellow.

You can open this file using a free little program from SolidWorks that you can download for both Mac and Windows machines. With the program, you can open up these two drawing files and examine the project in extraordinary detail. Even if you have never used a CAD program, you'll find this program a cinch to use.

When you open up the file you'll see the assembled workbench floating in space – this is what we call a "live model." Using the tools at the top of the window, you can rotate this project in every direction to see all sides of it in its assembled form. You can pull individual parts off and rotate those around to look at all the joinery by zooming in and out. You can strike measurements, look at cross-sections (do check out the dowels – Louis even drew all the dowels).

You can see exactly how the sliding deadman works with the groove in the benchtop and the bevels on the stretcher. In short, this file should answer almost any question you would have about assembling the workbench.

Thanks to Louis again for this excellent service to the readers of this magazine and weblog. And he says there are more drawings to come.

— Christopher Schwarz

Roubo Bench Assembly-2.EASM.zip (2.28 MB)

Robert Giovannetti of Crystal Lake, Ill., built a Roubo-style workbench like the one featured in the Autumn 2005 issue. He wasn't completely satisfied with its workholding properties and sold the bench to an eager buyer.

Then this week he sent me photos of his latest workbench, which incorporates details from many workbenches. He likes to call it the Rob-O, which Rob says is a "Japanese cabinetmaker's bench modified for western work methods." The bench, which is designed for a workshop that blends hand and power tools, has some interesting features that are worth discussing. Let's take a look.

First, the raw stats: The top is 4" x 31-1/2" x 94-1/2" total, which includes the two slabs and a 10-1/2" w. sliding tray between. The base is a trestle design with all members being 3-1/2" x 4". The bench tips the scales at about 400 pounds.

Workholding details: The Veritas Twin-Screw face vise is 31-1/2" wide (wow) with the vise screws on 24" centers. Rob says this vise is ideal for both dovetailing and edge jointing. He says he can secure a 7'-long piece of stuff for edging. So the fact that the face vise's rear jaw is proud of the top is no big deal, Rob says. If he needs to edge a big door, he can clamp a spacer block to the front edge of the top for additional support. In my book, this is the only weakness of this design – I've worked on benches like this and I much prefer having the legs and top and vise all in the same plane. But that's just me.

Rob's planing stops are cool. They slide into dados in the top. Rob says he has multiple sizes of stops for planing different thicknesses. I think this setup is more versatile than my single planing stop. I've been learning to skew my planes to keep the stock under control against the single planing stop. This system is more like my old planing stop system on a previous workbench, which is easier to use, if not demonstrably better.

For planing doors, panels, frames and drawers (which can involving planing across the width), Rob has devised an ingenious wedging system that I hope he'll send us photos of so I can post them. Essentially, you place the front part of the work against the planing stops. The tail end of the work is wedged between a wedge-shaped bench hook (which drops into a bench dog hole) and another wedge-shaped piece of stock. I think I'm describing it correctly, but Rob will let us know if I'm not.



Another great feature is the removable sliding tool tray in the center of the bench. The centered tool tray is a lot like the Veritas-style workbench. The fact that the tray slides away for clamping on the top is a lot like David Charlesworth's bench, which has been featured in Lon Schleining's "The Workbench Book." The features is also found on the Lie-Nielsen workbenches, which I worked on last week at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking. To true the top of his bench, Rob can remove the two slabs and run them through a drum sander or planer.

All in all, a very interesting bench.

— Christopher Schwarz

I continue to get a letter about every other day about the Roubo-style workbench I built for the Autumn 2005 issue. I've been trying not to clog up the weblog with too much Roubo stuff, but as the glue dries on the web frame in the Creole Table this morning, I thought I should bring up some interesting points from readers and discuss a few modifications I've made since I built the bench a year ago.

Robert W. Mustain pointed out to me that I neglected to discuss how to configure the workbench for left-handed woodworkers (which make up about 13 percent of the population, according to some estimates). A "Sinister Roubo" would need everything reversed, of course. Put the crochet and leg vise on the right side of the bench. Same goes for the planning stop: Put it on the right.

A common question among first-time bench builders is why the accessories are configured the way they are. Why is the bench vise (or crochet) traditionally on the left side of the bench for right-handers? They typically think that having the vise on the right side of the bench would make it more convenient for sawing off stock.

The reason the vise is traditionally on the left is for edge-jointing. You want to plane into the vise and sometimes even brace your boards against the vise's screws or bars. It just makes sense from a physics point of view, really. Think about the alternative: If you clamp the tail end of the board and then plane away from the vise, you could pull the board out of the vise.



Next question: Reader Tim Brun asked if I'd added any more dog holes to my bench than those shown on the illustration in the magazine. The answer is yes. My biggest frustration with planing on the bench has been when I want to work cross grain, such as when I work rough stock with a fore plane. I've used holdfasts and battens to brace the work at the back edge of the bench; and while that works, sometimes I really just want to clamp stuff between dogs. So I added a line of 3/4" holes (10 of 'em) in line with the planing stop (which is 6" from the front edge of the bench). The holes are 3-3/4" on center. The first hole begins 31" in from the left end of the bench. Having them in line with the planing stop allows me to clamp a board 52" long between the stop and a Veritas Wonder Dog.

Here are some other modifications: This morning I added leather linings to the faces of my leg vise on the advice from a reader. I was at Michael's craft store last night picking up some hemp twine (for a future weblog post) and I noticed the overpriced leather scrap section. A one-pound bag of scraps cost $5.99. Or I could buy a single piece of Tandy-brand leather that would fit perfectly for $5.99. I bought the Tandy leather. I was going to cut up some shoes or an old purse that belonged to my spouse, but I hadn't got the guts up to ask: "Honey, do you really use this purse anymore?" So $5.99 avoided that conversation.

The leather is an experiment. I think the leg vise holds just fine as it is. But the reader said I'd be amazed. So here goes. I used yellow glue to apply the leather, and I almost forgot to put a sheet of plastic between the leather pieces as I closed the vise. The glue-squeeze-out would likely have glued the whole thing together shut.

One final mod to the leg vise: I kept snapping the 3/8"-diameter oaken pivot pins at the foot of the vise. In hindsight, perhaps I should have used ½"-diameter stock. I switched to a 3/8" steel pin nine months ago and everything is working swimmingly.

The glue in the web frame should be dry now. Back to the shop.

— Christopher Schwarz

One of my favorite woodworkers who has been exploring the Roubo bench with me is Robert Giovannetti of Crystal Lake, Illinois. He's a hard-core woodworker, builds his own planes and works with a wide variety of traditional tools, such as Japanese planes – i.e. braver than I am this week!

He built a Roubo-style bench, worked on it a bunch and then someone bought it from him. He's about to start building another bench (I'm going to call it the Rob-o) and we had this long exchange about the merits and demerits of the Roubo this week that might be interesting to those who are criminally insane in the workbench department. Do you have some coffee? A big beer? Sitting comfortably? Good, let's go. Rob's comments are in italics; mine are in the regular font.

First, let me say that the deeper reason we published plans for the Roubo bench was to get people to think about some of the details of workbench design that often go unconsidered.

First, that your bench is simply a three-dimensional clamping surface so you shouldn’t do anything that impedes that – such as adding aprons under the top that block clamps, or a top that overhangs the front of the legs, which will prevent you from clamping long and wide work to the front with any efficacy.

And second, that a big and simple bench is the place to begin because it allows you to add vises as you see the need. This Roubo-style bench was designed to allow you to add any vise, from a Veritas twin-screw to an Emmert. I’ve made several mods to the bench as I’ve worked on it myself, but we’ll get to that in the details.

Rob: I find that without a tool tray, there's no real handy place to put holdfasts, battens and the like. I placed them underneath, but didn't like having to stoop all the time to get something I needed.

Chris: Personally, I can’t stand tool trays. My first bench (which I still have) has one. I call it hamster alley because it collects clutter and shavings and impedes clamping from the back side. (I do like the way David Charlesworth has the removable floor on his tool tray, which fixes the clamping problem completely). I keep my holdfasts in the holes in the legs. My shooting boards, bench planes and bench hooks go on the shelf below. I think this is just a personal thing. If you like tool trays, make a tool tray.

Rob: I find that I have to place a batten behind the work, because my planing technique involves a return stroke across the wood, as opposed to lifting the plane. Also, I work with both Western and Japanese planes, so I need the security there for the pull stroke. As far as the battens go, I've found that having to readjust them for different width pieces is just as time consuming, if not more so, than screwing a vise in and out. Maybe I'm not using the system correctly?

Chris: I also place a batten behind my work when I’m working diagonally or cross grain with a fore plane. But I don’t have trouble keeping the stock under control during regular with-the-grain planing (Also, I am not skilled enough to use Japanese planes!). In fact, the more I use the bench, the fewer battens I need. I find myself setting up one batten at the front of the bench against the planing stop and working against that alone. I think the battens are like training wheels or for special situations.

Rob: I've also run into problems with my Stanley No. 45 as well. If I take a deep cut, I find the work likes to tip at the end, because I have to apply downward and sideways force to the work. It seems that with heavier cuts, the batten system doesn't work as well as with light passes.

Chris: I don’t use a No. 45 but I do use a plow plane and moulding planes. I think that the end of the cut is always a bit raggy for me too. I make my stock a couple extra inches longer than necessary before sticking it, which is a good idea for rail and stile work anyway.

One of the mods I’ve made to the bench is I’ve added a row of dog holes in line with the stop. Then I use the Veritas Wonder Dog there like a tail vise/shoulder vise when I have a tricky cut. I also like the holes up front for the holdfasts, which are nice for close-quarters uber-wacky chair-part clamping.

Rob: I love the sensitivity to the work of stops, and the quickness of holdfasts, but, at the same time, it seems like using dogs to secure the work is better for certain tasks. But I hate having to constantly crank a vise in and out for every work piece at least twice.

Chris: Agreed, sometimes the dogs with a Wonder Dog are the best way. They’re my last resort, however, because I fear that they can bow the stock, especially thin stuff.

Rob: I like the flexibility of the crochet, but the leg vise leaves something to be desired. It's wicked powerful, but I've had a lot of problems using it. I hand cut my dovetails, and there isn't a great way to clamp the boards in the vise. I'm used to a shoulder vise, so maybe it's just a quirk of mine, since most people who like them can't get used to not having them. The leg vise, on the other hand, seems to be like a traditional front vise in this respect. I can get part of a board in the vise, but not having the screw directly behind the vise is a little weird. Like I said, probably me. Have you had any problems with your vise? How do you dovetail with it?

Chris: I love my leg vise. I like how I can clamp a piece of work all the way down the leg of the bench. The next mod I plan is to add a leather facing to the jaws. A couple old-timers have told me that it increases the holding power even more. When dovetailing a drawer side (up to about 8" or so), I can clamp and go. The piece doesn’t move for me. When I dovetail a wide piece I clamp one side in the vise and the other side to either by sliding deadman (with an F-style clamp) or I clamp it to the top with a 32" bar clamp.

Rob: I do a lot of frame-and-panel work, and had some problems properly securing a frame so I could plane the face flush. I used battens and stops at both ends, but when planing towards the front of the bench, the work moves a little, enough to ruin the cut. Have you found the best method for doing this?

Chris: I’ve had this come up a couple times. That’s why I added the dog holes. The Veritas Wonder Dog holds the panel in place no problem against the bench stop.

Rob: Lastly, I find having the bench a full 4"+ thick is a little overkill. I know it lends rigidity and mass to the bench, but, at least in hardwood, it seems a costly investment. After using the bench, I realized that only the front 8" or so sees any heavy pounding, and the rest of the bench just supports the work. And, maybe the real problem, my holdfasts from Tools for Working Wood don't seat as well in such a thick top. I'm sure forged holds would work better, but I can't afford them.

Chris: Thick tops are a blessing and a curse, I agree. The big Dominy workbench is thick only at the front. The rear is considerably thinner. This might be something to think about for your next bench. As to holdfasts, it definitely is a problem. Allow me to speculate for a minute: I think that holdfasts might have been bigger for these bigger benches. I have a 19th century blacksmith-made one that is crazy thick – 1-1/8" in diameter and it weighs a ton. My experiments with this holdfast in really thick benches have been interesting. It works really, really well. Perhaps smaller holdfasts are better for smaller benches?

In any case, the top’s thickness may indeed be overkill, but so is a dovetail joint. I don’t like operating at the margins when it comes to things like this. I don’t want the top to flex. Ever. So I think my next bench will be this thick as well. Call me thick-headed on this point.

Rob: I'll be building another bench soon, and was thinking of incorporating what I like of the various benches I've used. First, a wide work surface; second, a tool tray; third, a sled foot base with storage for tools; fourth, a shoulder vise or a Veritas twin-screw, at the end, for dovetailing. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to use dogs or stops. Depends on your feedback. I have some 8/4 book-matched bubinga, quartersawn, that I want to use as the work surface. Do you think that's thick enough to take hand tool abuse, or should I glue up two pieces to get a 3-1/2" thickness? If I do glue up, the front 9" will be thick, the back 21" only 1-3/4". If you think it's strong enough, then I might go with a Veritas bench design feature with a tool tray in the middle.

Chris: My gut says to make it thick at the front and 8/4 at the back.

— Christopher Schwarz

Two more volumes of Roubo's masterwork on the woodworking trades have trickled into my hands. I'm still missing two volumes I really want, and I'm probably going to have to buck up and just order them straight from France (a couple helpful French-speaking readers have pointed me to a site that sells all the volumes).

Until those arrive, I've been poring over the Roubo volumes on carriage building and garden woodworking. Both are chock-full of engravings of tools, benches, projects, jigs and procedures. One interesting nugget of information has been the illustration of the bench for the carriage trade. The bench is almost exactly like the benches shown throughout the three volumes I now have, but the vise is interesting.

It looks like a twin-screw vise at first, but then when you look at it again, it's actually more like an inside-out leg vise turned on its side. I know of no modern equivalent. After studying the drawing a bit here's how I think it works: The screw on the right controls the pressure you apply like the screw on any vise. The assembly on the left acts like a pivot. You move the metal pin (I assume it's metal) in a hole in the metal bar (item A) that juts out the left side of the vise's jaw. You pick a hole that will position the left side of the jaw based on the thickness of the work being clamped. You place the jaw so it's just a bit closer to the benchtop than the thickness of the work. When you then turn the screw, the work will become wedged.

Assuming that we all work with pretty standard thicknesses of wood, the vise could be pretty effective. However, I'd hate to be the guy who walked up to the bench without keeping a sharp eye on that metal bar.

(Ah, and the odd headline on this entry? That's the Babelfish translation of the French bookstore's description of the Roubo books. I've been called a lot of things, but never a "woody one.")

— Christopher Schwarz

On Saturday our postman left a note: There was a package for me, but they couldn't leave it at my house. I had to go to the Post Office and sign for it personally. I'm annoyed (and a little concerned – it sounded a lot like the way I was served with a lawsuit when I was once sued). But I went down, signed the yellow paper without getting handcuffed and was rewarded with a box from Canada.

A.J. Roubo (the name on the cover) had hit town.

Surprisingly, the box was a bit small, and soon I knew why. It had only one of the three volumes I'd ordered (the other two are on back order – the saga continues). This volume, "Le Menuisier Ebeniste, Section De La III" is plenty meaty enough – 273 pages of text plus an additional 60 plates at the back. This volume doesn't contain the chapter on the early workbench I built, though it does have plate 279 and the text that discusses the "improved" German workbench with a tail vise and a sliding leg vise. Yes, a sliding leg vise. I'll be posting more on that little detail in a future log entry.

I think the section on the German bench is the first section we'll take a stab at translating. It might be a rough translation. It might not be exact. But it could be interesting. Our managing editor, Megan Fitzpatrick, has a couple friends, one who specializes in old French languages and another native French speaker with literature training. (Note to self: Hiring a managing editor who's a doctoral student in English literature does have its advantages.)

I've spent a few hours looking over the plates and have already found some very interesting things that were going on in France in 1775. A wooden-stock plane that appears to have variable pitch (55° up to 90° and with a toothed blade). Plus a couple other iron-soled planes – one that looks like a precursor to all the English miter planes and a nice looking scraper plane that could be an infill (these are all on plate 281 for those playing our home game).

Also interesting are many of the drawings that show the Roubo bench that I built in being used for a variety of marquetry functions. How the holdfasts and planning stop were used together to secure large panels is interesting, plus how the holdfasts held jigs to the bench. What's also interesting is what's not in these plates. One reader commented that he's never seen battens in use with holdfasts in early drawings. (Battens are something I advocated in my article on building the bench – and still do). None of the plates show battens in use. Though I'll also hasten to add that none of these plates demonstrate planing face grain or edge grain. They're all about marquetry.

I think that's enough speculation for now. I'll post more when we have something you can use.

— Christopher Schwarz

With all the woodworking books and magazines out there, it's a bit surprising that we need any more. But we do. Nearly every woodworking book and magazine that gets published eventually crosses my desk, and I'm always amazed at the vast amount of homogeneity within the covers. The techniques and tools used are similar. In some ways, it's like the authors all went to the same school – or maybe they're simply all reading the same books.

It's not that these authors are using the wrong techniques or tools or joints – quite the opposite. The advice in the books is generally sound; it's just narrow. You can learn a lot about woodworking by exploring books that were published before you were born.

A fantastic place to begin is George Ellis's "Modern Practical Joinery". For $15 (or less if you buy it used) you can explore the vast world of machine and hand-tool woodworking that existed just as shops were beginning to mechanize. Ellis extols the virtues of the labor-saving machines and an affection for the fine work possible with hand tools. But more importantly, Ellis's enormous book explores the vast and interesting world of joinery for cabinets and house fittings. There are joints in here you've probably never seen (really good and solid ones). Ellis explores aspects of joinery and construction that are rarely covered in today's texts – such as scaling the components of many joints. I cannot recommend this book enough. And we're lucky the sucker is still in print.

Which brings me to my next little adventure. For about a year I've been after a copy of Andre Roubo's "L'Art du Menuisier," the book that inspired me to build the workbench in Issue 4. Sure it's in French – and I probably won't be able to read it even with my translation dictionary. But the plates are illuminating.

But finding a copy hasn't been easy. Vintage copies cost thousands. There is a reprint, which I believe is published in France. I haven't been able to find a U.S. bookseller that carries it, but I did find one in Quebec at Archambault. So I ordered it months ago. It was out of stock. I waited. No luck.

Then yesterday I received an email in French. My MasterCard had been charged and the book was on its way, with a tracking number. As of today, it had departed Quebec and was headed toward Kentucky. It looks like my own copy of Roubo might finally arrive. They have the text in three volumes; and the price? Much less than thousands.

There are, of course, a lot of other books that should be available (such as many books by Charles Hayward), but we'll save that for another day.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I built the Roubo-style workbench for the Fall 2005 issue, the idea was to make it as accessible and affordable as possible. I think we succeeded. The bench cost about $225 to build and took about a week of labor. And in the nine years I've been a woodworking magazine editor (and the 15 years I've been a professional journalist), I've never received such an outpouring of response to an article I've written (except perhaps that article about a dog that fell in love with a duck….). The whole experience has been gratifying and humbling. But at the back of my mind, the purist in me has been whispering lately.

This morning I decided to build as pure a form of that Roubo bench as possible. So I called a nearby sawyer and placed an unusual order: A soft maple slab: 6" x 24" x 9'. And four legs: 5" x 5" x 36". The wood is going to be wet when I bring it home, so I'm going to stash it underneath our deck for the next five years or so as it dries out. Give it another year in my shop to come to equilibrium and then I'll get to work.

So look for the next version of this bench to appear in our magazine in 2011.

— Christopher Schwarz

Securing large pieces of work to the front face of your workbench is always a challenge. A face vise can hold one corner of large work, but the other end is free to swing about. This can be unacceptable when sawing dovetails, cutting hinge mortises on the edge of a door or simply planing (or sanding) the edge on a long board.

Traditional benches have a sliding board jack (like the one on the Roubo-style bench we built), and other benches have a wide apron pierced with lots of holes. In both cases a wooden peg goes into the holes to support the work from below. This peg helps, but it doesn't hold the work tight against the bench. An F-style clamp is the usual solution – clamp the work to the jack or the apron.

In 1915, Stanley patented a bench bracket that combines the support of a wooden peg with the holding power of an F-style clamp. It was manufactured as the Stanley No. 203 (also the number used for a Stanley block plane, by the way). And this item turns up pretty regularly at flea markets and on eBay. I bought a couple of them recently to try them out on the Roubo bench jack to see if they were indeed useful.

The Stanley No. 203 works best in a 1"-diameter hole in an apron or bench jack that is 7/8" thick. Use thicker stock and the No. 203 won't grab. Use thinner and the bracket will not create a square ledge for your work. That was my first problem with the No. 203, my material ended up being a little under 7/8", so the clamp head came in at an angle to my boards. As a result, sometimes, the head would dent the work on one edge.

The promising hole in the bracket....

While staring at the bracket, I noticed a small hole at the bottom of the device. It looked like there could be some sleeve of metal inside it. Could this small hole be used in some way to square the bracket in its hole? With no answers coming to mind, I decided to ask the U.S. Government. Patented devices have nice drawings and sometimes instruction-like information on file at the U.S. Patent Office. However, the interface to search there isn't the friendliest.

However, there's help. The Directory of American Tool and Machinery Patents (DATAMP for short) makes looking up patented old tools easy. The DATAMP is run by volunteers from the OldWWMachines and OldTools mailing lists. You can search patents very easily here. Type the patent date (usually cast into the tool) into the search engine. If you know the patent number, that will work, too. There are other ways to search the 30,000 patents in the Advanced Search function.

I typed in the patent date (03-16-1915) and I immediately had beautiful drawings of the No. 203, plus drawings of a similar bracket that may not have been made commercially, and two pages of details on how the bracket works. The small hole at the bottom of the bracket is for a nail, according to the application, "to steady the lower end of the clamp…." Hmmm, that's not my problem. So I made a little shim and am going to epoxy that to the bracket tonight. That should fix it. And the material in the hole that I thought could be a sleeve? Just junk.

— Christopher Schwarz

Question: I've been using sawhorses and an old door for a few years and curse every time I start a project that I need a real bench. So I've been mulling over my options for some time and have decided that I needed to build my own bench because I thought ready made benches were too expensive, had spindly legs and weren't as massive as I'd like. This fall I was starting the process of gathering varying designs to see what I liked and didn't like and make a combination of sorts that I thought would be the ultimate bench. Then I saw your magazine with the Roubo on the cover and knew it was the one. It's everything I was looking for – relatively inexpensive, fairly easy to build, didn't have an apron, didn't have spindly legs and (although I could really use the storage) I'd opted for nothing more than a shelf as well.

I'm planning on making my top out of maple and the legs out of poplar. Was even thinking of using some bloodwood for the row of dog holes but we'll have to see how much that adds to the cost.

Anyway, I've been looking at a few other designs and was thinking of making a change but wanted your opinion first. In a bench design I saw in another magazine built by Ian Kirby, he used a bridle-jointed stretcher between the front and back (short sides) legs at their tops. Then he lag screwed through these stretchers to attach the top. Seems to me this might be an easier way to put the whole thing together but I realize it might take away some of the strength gained by having the top shrink on the tenons, thus creating the A-frame in the original design. Based on your experiences do you think this is an acceptable modification?

— John S. Szalkai

Answer: I've given your plan some thought. It will work, but I think you'll need another modification to make it work long-term. What you propose seems simple on its face, but it would actually transfer the strength of the bench from the top and into the base. That's how most benches are made today, and it is more like a dining room table than this French thing.

If I lag bolted the base to the top, I would want to make the long stretchers considerably wider – I'd say 7" wide would do. Otherwise, I fear the narrow stretchers below would not survive the racking forces being transferred from the top to the floor.

This would especially be an issue if you are going to do hand planing on this bench. If it's mostly going to be a big assembly bench, like a modern bench, then you could get away with 5"-wide stretchers or so.

The Kirby bench is a nice one – quick to assemble and simple to build. So it's a good source for bench ideas. But I'd consider this change carefully. Mortising the base into the top is really a cinch, if you need some encouragement on that front.

— Christopher Schwarz

I've just returned from the national meeting of the Mid-West Tool Collectors Association a bit road-weary, a bit hung over and completely overwhelmed by what a cool experience the whole thing was. If you like vintage tools or if you need vintage tools for your shop, you definitely should belong to this very fine organization.

The tool trading floor is a bit dazzling for the first-timer. There are dozens of dealers (all members) who are selling stuff that you rarely see in Midwestern flea markets and that you pay too much for on eBay. Are there bargains? Well, that depends on your perspective. I found the prices to be less than what I'd find on eBay, but more than what I'd find at a garage sale. The best way to put it is that these dealers know what they have, but they also know what a fair price is.

Mostly, the selection is overwhelming. I've been looking for about six months for a certain size of a Maydole hammer. I've had no luck on eBay. At this meet, I found four examples to choose from. I got the best one for $10. I also bought a Lancashire-pattern hacksaw I've been coveting for a couple years. The British tool dealers generally sell them for $100 plus shipping. I got mine for $35. So I'm quite happy.

The other highlights of the meeting are the seminars on tools and techniques. Fred Thompson of the Chicago School of Violin Making gave an interesting lecture on how violins are made and dispelled some mythology that clouds the field of custom violin making. Pete Taran, the owner of Vintage Saws, gave a sometimes-hilarious speech exploring some of the significant patents on handsaws. You can download the visuals of this lecture in pdf format from his site here. And Don McConnell of Clark and Williams delivered a completely eye-opening lecture on the history of steel and the only explanation of the system of carving tool sweeps that has ever made sense to me. And, I might add, Don displayed the company's new plow plane, which looks like a million bucks.

I tried to do my part, too. I brought the Roubo bench, which somehow survived the 700-mile trip from Cincinnati to St. Charles, Ill., strapped to my Toyota Tacoma. I gave little talks about the workholding techniques offered by the bench, drawboring and surfacing lumber with hand planes. I was treated very kindly, though I don't think they believed me when I started spouting off my theories on scrub planes.

And then there was the hospitality suite, where there was too much free spirits, cheese and chips. And just enough discussion of tools and techniques.

I've never been a person who joins organizations and gets involved (woodworkers are generally loners in my opinion). But after this M-WTCA meeting, I'm a true believer.

— Christopher Schwarz

An hour before we photographed the cover with the Roubo-style workbench, I was still building it – putting the finishing touches on the leg vise to be exact. I had always meant to put a tongue-and-groove shelf below the workbench like the original, but I simply ran out of time. Yesterday during lunch I resolved to correct that omission.

I stopped by Home Depot and picked up enough Southern yellow pine for the job – two 8'-long 2 x 12s for the shelves and one 8'-long 2 x 6 for the ledgers beneath the shelves. This is about 30 percent more wood than you need, but this gave me the clearest, straightest stock from the picked-over wood rack. Total bill: $33. For those of you who might want to put a shelf below their Roubo bench, here is a cutting list and a brief outline of the procedure.

Roubo Workbench Shelf
2 Long ledgers: 1-1/4" x 1-1/4" x 56"
2 Short ledgers: 1-1/4" x 1-1/4" x 14"
6 Shelf planks: 1-1/4" x 11" x 19"

First joint and plane all the stock down to 1-1/4" thick. Rip the ledgers from the 2 x 6 and the shelf planks from the 2 x 12s. Crosscut the ledgers to length after double-checking your measurements against your bench. Clamp them in place on the stretchers so that the bottom edge of each ledger is flush with the bottom edge of its mating stretcher. Screw the ledgers to the stretchers with #10 x 2" screws. I used four screws in each long stretcher and two in each end stretcher.

Now you can crosscut your shelves easily and fit them on top of the ledgers and between the stretchers. Now you should plow a 1/2" x 1/2" groove along one long edge of each shelf plank. I used a dado stack in my table saw. Now reduce the height of the dado stack to 3/8" and cut the rabbets on the opposite long edge that will create the tongue. This procedure is covered in detail in Issue 1. The fit between the tongue and its groove doesn't shouldn't be too tight. You want the pieces to slide together easily.

The matching tongue-and-groove on the shelf pieces.

Plane your shelves flat and clean. Chamfer the long edges of each shelf with a block plane. A small 1/8" x 1/8" chamfer will make the long edges more robust. Place five of the shelves on the ledgers and center them between the legs. You should have about a 4-1/4" gap between the shelves and the end stretchers. Measure this gap and then rip your sixth shelf ledger. One piece will go on one end; the other will go on the other end.

Shown is one of the shelf pieces for the end with its notches cut. You also can see the ledgers beneath the shelf pieces.

My wood was pretty wet (15 percent moisture content) and we're still in the summer season (from the wood's perspective). So these boards will shrink up a bit as they come in equilibrium with the shop. So I didn't leave much of a gap between the shelves, just 1/32" or so. Now place the shelf pieces for the ends up against the legs and lay out the notches that will allow each end piece to fit around the legs. Cut the notches and clean up your work with a chisel.

With everything fit in place, you can then secure the shelves to their ledgers. I used Miller Dowels without glue. These are great if you ever need to knock something apart to move it. A couple coats of oil/varnish blend and you're done.

— Christopher Schwarz

OK, I have two very good pieces of news on the topic of holdfasts. In our March 2005 issue we sang the praises of Alaskan blacksmith Phil Koontz. His holdfasts were the only ones that truly lived up to the name "holdfasts." All the cast, manufactured ones should be re-labeled "kinda-hold-slows." Not as zippy a marketing term, I'm afraid, but completely fair.

To help meet demand for the holdfasts, Phil has turned over a good deal of production to another Alaskan blacksmith: Jake the Russian. I haven't met Jake personally, and I cannot say if he traveled to Alaska via the now-vanished Aleutian land bridge, but I can say that I know his holdfasts. Phil sent me a pair made by Jake to try out on the Roubo-style workbench. I am impressed.

They work just as well as those made for me earlier in 2005 by Phil, and the fit and finish is a bit better, too. These had more pronounced chamfering on the leaf-shaped pad. And these even worked occasionally in my 5"-thick legs in a 3/4" hole, which Phil's will not do. So if you're in the market for blacksmith-made holdfasts, the ones from Jake and Phil both get equally high marks.

And here's some more news: Tools for Working Wood has developed (and applied for a patent) on an inexpensive holdfast that is remarkably effective. The holdfast, sold under the Gramercy Tools nameplate, has more of a techno look than the beautiful blacksmith-made ones, but it works as well. Yes, you read that right: It works just as well. And for less than one-third the price of many blacksmith-made examples (though some blacksmiths can make them quite inexpensively, to be fair). These new holdfasts cost $30 a pair and will be available in October. Tools for Working Wood is now taking advance orders on its website.

We've been working with the pre-production Gramercy prototypes for a month now, day-in and day-out. We're terribly impressed. They hold like Phil's (though they still won't cinch down in a 5" leg in a 3/4" hole. The only device that works there consistently is the Veritas hold-down, a different animal).

All of the sudden we went from a society that had virtually no functioning holdfasts to having a society that has three excellent and effective models to choose from. Lucky us.

— Christopher Schwarz

I'm getting about a letter a day from people interested in building (or taking me to task) for the Roubo-style workbench shown in Issue 4. Reader Dan Chaffin, a furniture maker in Louisville, Ky., had three good questions about the base, then bench stop and the holdfasts that have come up a few times with other readers, so I thought I'd publish his letter here and my responses. So here we go:

First Question: When the top of the bench contracts as it dries, how much wracking of the base actually occurs (roughly)? I am not concerned about joint separation, but I like the fact that the legs are flush with front edge of the bench top, and I was wondering if the wracking would affect this flatness in any significant way.

First Answer: After five months, the bench is at full equilibrium with our shop. Our moisture meter reports that the top and legs are all about 11 percent moisture content, which is consistent with the other pieces of Southern yellow pine that have been in our shop for five years or more. So the top has finished shrinking. Now all that will occur is the seasonal expansion and contraction, which I’ve calculated will be about 1/8" per year.

The initial shrinkage of the top did indeed wrack the base into an A-frame configuration as I reported in Issue 4. A Starrett framing square shows that it wracked about 1/16" at the front edge of the bench (this was with the 22-1/4"-long section of the square running down the leg). I haven’t found that the wracking affects the functionality at all. The front surface of the bench is still a wide and consistent clamping surface.

Second Question: The 2" bench stop in your bench plan sits back a bit from the front edge of the top. Is there any reason that it cannot or should not be moved closer to the front edge so that when planing narrow stock you wouldn't have to lean over as much.

Second Answer: The bench stop could be moved toward the edge or toward the end (I’ve seen some people who do this to get the extra capacity). I initially considered it but decided to go with a configuration that looked like Roubo’s to see if I could figure out why it is where it is.

I don’t have a firm answer yet, though I’m glad my bench stop is not more towards the end of the bench for two reasons: One, I never run into my leg vise or crochet as I’m planing. And two, the space beyond it is a natural resting place for the tools that aren’t in use but must be handy while I’m working, mostly my mallet, plane-adjusting hammer and the oily rag I use to lubricate my plane’s soles. I also have a swing-arm lamp that drops into my bench dog holes that lives in that space beyond my planing stop.

I'm also glad the bench stop is not closer to the front edge for two reasons: One, narrow stock has not presented a problem yet. In fact, I even plane boards on edge up against the stop. And two: The bench stop is positioned so it will be centered on a 12"-wide board. Our jointer is a 12" model, so it works with that tool's maximum capacity.

Third Question: The article on holdfasts suggested that the Phil Koontz version would not seat well in tops thicker than 3" if the holes were 3/4". In the workbench article you show these holdfasts as well as the Veritas holdfast (which I thought only worked in 3/4" holes) being used. Did you drill different diameter holes for the top and the sides? Or will the Veritas also work in the slightly smaller hole used for the Koontz holdfast? I would love to know before I purchase either.

Third Answer: You have a sharp eye. The holes in the top are 11/16". The holes in the legs are ¾". Phil’s holdfasts work only in the top; the Veritas holddowns work only in the legs. I wish I had one holdfast that worked everywhere, but I don’t.

— Christopher Schwarz

Question: I am a beginner woodworker, so I don't have a workbench yet. I've been looking and wondering if I should make my own bench or buy a starter one. Then I read your article and found that doesn't seem to be too hard to actually build one. I need a table saw, a jointer and a planer and hand tools.

But then again I noticed through your pictures that you are building Roubo's workbench on top of a previous workbench. That makes me wonder again if your first bench should be bought, what do you think about that?

Second, let's say that I figured out to get a surface to work on, and I still want to make this bench, can you send me a more detailed picture or instructions about the leg vise's parallel guide? Do you think that the Veritas Twin-screw Vise would work in the same way? (I mean placed vertically and without the parallel guide.)

When attaching the crochet, did you attach it using only bolts, or did you glue it, too? And when working towards the crochet it looks like you are using considerable pressure on your work piece towards the crochet. How do you prevent the crochet from marking your piece?

– Pedro Massabié, Oakville, Ontario

Answer: You don't need a bench to build a bench. I built the Roubo bench on sawhorses. The Shop Box system from the same issue of Woodworking Magazine would also be a good place to start. We use those boxes every day in the shop for something.

As to the vise and the parallel guide, there’s a photo showing it close up above, which might help explain its structure a bit more. I don’t think you would need to use the Veritas Twin-Screw Vise in the manner you suggest. If I were going to drop the coin on that vise, I’d want to use it like a tail vise on the end of the bench or as a face vise, but oriented horizontally shown by the manufacturer. I have this vise on my bench at home and it is quite nice.

As to the crochet, it is not glued to the bench (good question). It simply is bolted. This will allow me to remove it if I ever get tired of it (not bloody likely). And the crochet – when shaped the way we show it – does not mar the work. Not even softwoods. The design, which came from Adam Cherubini, is perfect.

— Christopher Schwarz

The Roubo workbench we built for Issue 4 has been greeted with both interest and healthy skepticism. Most people wonder how they would perform certain operations without a shoulder vise, twin-screw vise or metal face vise. They question whether you can really do everything you need to do in a shop with such a dirt simple workbench.

I was skeptical at first, too. But after a couple months of working on the Roubo, I don't think I would trade this bench for any other. It exceeds my every expectation and excels at every workholding task I throw at it, whether I'm wielding a router or a router plane.

This fall, you can take the Roubo bench for a test drive yourself. The Mid-West Tool Collectors Association has graciously agreed to let me bring the bench to the organization's national meeting in St. Charles, Ill., on October 20 – 22. I'll be showing how the bench works for a wide variety of hand and power operations. And you're welcome to come give it a whirl yourself, too. Plus, I'll be handing out copies of our magazine, answering any questions and sneaking off to snag a few tool deals myself.

If you're unfamiliar with the Mid-West Tool Collectors Association (M-WTCA), then I strongly urge you to become a member (it's an amazing value, really) and attend this meeting in particular. From my conversations with the organizers, this national meeting should be a most excellent one.

The association is an astounding resource for anyone who is interested in hand woodworking – it's not just for collectors. Every time I hang out with the hardcore from M-WTCA I get a thorough education in some tool (this week I spent some time in Chicago learning about oddball stuff for a brace).

Plus, the tailgating must been seen to be believed. If you buy your hand tools on eBay, it's easy to spend too much money or wind up with a tool that is not in usable condition. At he MWTCA tailgating (and in some of the motel rooms) you will see more tools than you have ever seen before. And the prices are fair.

If you end up going to the meet, please do stop by our booth, try out the bench for yourself and let us know what we can do to improve Woodworking Magazine. Plus, if enough readers are there, we can perhaps organize a visit to a local watering hole.

— Christopher Schwarz

Don't follow the lead of our metalworking brethren.

Repeat after me: Workbenches are not oversized dining tables.

There is something odd about designing an 18th century workbench using modern CAD software; but I do have to say, the first draft looks really promising.

Mild steel holdfasts an ideal material for holdfasts; gray iron, not so good.

Sometimes you have to ignore the instructions on the bottle. What, you didn’t read them? Good.

A Good Bench Needs Good Holdfasts. That’s Easier Said Than Done.

The best workbench might just be one of the simplest and oldest designs. We design a better bench that's based heavily on the drawings of an 18th century Frenchman.