Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Kreg fence micro-adjuster



This is another gizmo that has been a game changer for me.

Kreg makes a lot of gizmos and other bits and pieces to go with their L-shaped T-track profile. They use this profile for miter gauges, production fences, and even a band saw fence. I like the simplicity of their system, and of the stops that they've come up with. And I like that it's modular, because that makes it easy to modify things

I figured out a while ago that I could make a long miter bar by using a 4' hunk of Kreg's production fence and bolting it onto the miter head in place of the 2' section that it came with. The reason I wanted to do this was simple: I wanted a quick and easy way to cut things accurately to length. The only real problem with this is that the miter bar that hooks onto the head is aluminum, and it's a bit flimsy when you're working with a 4' miter fence. Bah. Eventually I made my cross-cut sled, and that helped.

That said, I still worked with the four footer on the miter bar for a while, and in my quest to find a more accurate way to adjust the stop block, I decided to see if I could re-purpose the micro-adjust that they offer for their band saw fence. I drilled a hole in an inch of t-track, slipped a square nut into it, and hooked it onto the micro-adjuster, and voila, it worked. It's not perfect, but it makes minute adjustments to the production stop a lot more accurate than doing it by hand.

I used to use Kreg's adhesive scale on the fence. But eventually I started making cuts on both sides of the blade, and I found that it gave an illusion of accuracy that wasn't really there. It was good for quick work, but parallax gets in the way, and my ability to micro-adjust rendered it a moot point.

At some point I want to get a steel bar made for the miter head, with a dedicated, non-adjustable 90 degree head. Once I have that, I'll take the time to dial in my setup a little more. For now, this has enabled me to blur the line between accurate and precise work in the machine room, both in terms of my ability to cut stock, and my ability to cut joinery on the table saw.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

My Tranny Problem



I don’t know where the term ‘transitional’ plane comes from, but the type of plane it describes is basically a wooden bodied plane with an adjuster. There’s a wide range of planes that fit this rough description.

I really had a thing for the Stanley versions when I was first starting out at North Bennet, because I was convinced that I would be able to restore them and turn them into better, more functional tools, with fancy new soles that were as long as I wanted. The venerable Stanley #8 tops out at 28” long. But in theory, I could build myself a 3 foot long, wooden bodied jointer plane. I have no idea why I would really need such a long plane, let alone a wooden one, but I still had a lot to learn about using planes at the time. Truth be told, I think I just wanted the satisfaction of having the longest tool in the bench room.

The Stanley and Sargent versions were fairly simple, with the adjuster and frog sitting flatly on top of a beech block. My experiences with them weren’t very enjoyable. More often than not, they clogged. The totes also loosened up pretty regularly, and the adjuster was hard to get to. And in general, they were really only good for rough work. Part of the problem was that while the mouths were pretty wide, the throats were really tight. (See photo) If you get a good look, you'll see that the throat is tightest around where the chip breaker is, so anything that curls off of the iron will fill the space, and clog, and jam the plane. And if you look at the allowed space to get fingers, etc in there, you'll see that it's a losing battle. Too many times I had to pull the lever cap, iron, and everything out to clear a jam.


But I really wanted them to work, and I went to pretty extensive lengths. I bought an aftermarket blade and chip-breaker from Lie-Nielsen, which was special ordered, because they had to mill a second hole in the chip breaker to work with this kind of plane. (They did the mod for free. Times like that I really love Lie-Nielsen.) I patched up the mouth to make it nice and tight, figuring it might help.

When that didn’t work, I chiseled out the patch, chiseled out most of the throat, and installed a new patch, that was thin, and beveled at the mouth, to allow shavings to pass more easily. There was enough room with the chiseled out throat for me to get two fingers in there to clear out the shavings that would inevitably pile up. But no matter what I tried, I couldn’t get the damned thing to do precision work. Eventually I decided that if it was really only good for rough work, that I would just go with it, and use it for rough work. I cambered the iron pretty heavily, and it works well as a jack/fore plane. And I decided to stick with iron planes for high quality work from then on.


At one point, I picked up this little smoother, which was built by a company named Gage. The adjuster’s accessible, the iron bed goes all the way down to the sole... and in fact, part of the sole is iron. Basically, there’s an iron box that goes down through the block to the sole of the plane, to allow (I’m assuming, I never really committed to the plane) for more precision style work to be done. But making a new sole meant piercing it to precisely fit the iron box, and then I’d need to flatten the sole to get it to be co-planar with the iron box. That’s not a job for a power jointer, and it would be really tedious work with a hand plane to keep assembling and re-assembling, so that I could safely plane the block down until it was close enough to sand down to finish dimensions, with the iron throat installed... and hope that the wooden sole remained stable. I never got around to tuning it up, and eventually ebayed the thing. I hope it found its way into more interested hands than mine.

More recently, I’ve been playing with a nice wooden bodied A55 try plane from HNT Gordon, which works much more easily, and precisely. Truth be told, this is the plane that makes me understand the appeal. The wooden sole just glides. And the surfaces it leaves behind look almost burnished. Once I replace the split wooden lever cap with a brass version, I have a really good feeling that this will be my new favorite plane.

And no less an authority than Karl Holtey has tried his hand at making a (Really, *gasp* REALLY) nice transitional plane in recent years. So it’s clear that they can work.

A recent discussion on the topic of wooden planes in general  caught my eye, (specifically pertaining to Krenov style planes, but very relevant to the current topic) and it got me thinking about transitional planes again.

It’s really annoyed me. I gave up on this particular kind of masochism years ago. But I was reading a comment from David Charlesworth on the topic of chip breakers in wooden planes, and he pointed out that if the chip breaker was angled too extremely, then the chip would curl directly into the forward part of the throat, and the plane would clog up. Larry Williams pointed out that (for similar reasons) high angle woodies disappeared with the advent of the cap iron. A high angle blade will break the chip on its own, a standard pitch plane with a chip breaker will launch the shaving right into the wall of the throat, instead of out the top, and the plane will clog. This was exactly the kind of behavior I’d tried to cure in the transitional planes I was playing with 7 years ago. And the HNT Gordon plane (55 degree pitch, no chip breaker) clears shavings just fine.

My experience since then has taught me two things: Wedged, hammer-adjusted wooden planes aren’t hard to make or use,  and iron planes aren’t hard to tune up and use. And either will work incredibly well. But their offspring are another matter entirely. Transitional planes as a breed are intriguing, but some designs are better than others, and the Stanley versions seem to suck with a suckiness that I can't begin to describe in a way that doesn't suck. It's no wonder that some folks resort to treating them like witches. (What do we burn, besides witches? MORE WITCHES!!!)

But there are TWO of those misbegotten nightmares in H. O. Studley’s chest. And he clearly knew a thing or two about how to use a tool. So maybe there’s more to these planes than meets the eye? I can't figure out this particular puzzle for myself, and it vexes me. Appeals to a higher power have been made, but answers will not be forthcoming for a while.

I don’t know how to kick the obsession. I'm a geek, and a mechanical problem solver by nature. But I have too much on my plate these days to really feel like chasing this down.

The real challenge of shop organization

"The art of progress is to preserve order amid change, and change amid order."

-Alfred North Whitehead

But for some reason, sometimes it feels more like preserving order amid chaos, and chaos amid order.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Yet another table saw sled

I've seen some pretty over-the-top, over-wrought ways of cutting an accurate 45 degree angle. It doesn't have to be that way. In fact, it really shouldn't. Your energy should be spent on building things that are useful in a context other than just your shop. Furniture, screen doors, whatever. But you should still focus on accuracy when you can.

This one took about an hour and a half to build, including clean-up.

First step was fitting the Ipé rail to the miter slot in the saw table. I used the micro-adjuster on the fence for this, to get a good, close fit. I also used it to trim the sides of the dado in the MDF to fit. When you can reliably adjust the fence by .002", it's easier the adjust the fence than to mess with shims for a single dado.

(truth be told, I was too lazy to pull out the dado set. 6 passes with the saw blade cuts 3/4" just fine, plus fine tuning to fit the rail.)

Once the rail is in, I put the sled on the table saw, rail in the miter slot, and trimmed the left edge to get my reference edge. (The distance from the edge of the plywood to the edge of the dado is slightly more than the distance from the slot in the saw table to the blade, so that a zero-clearance fit can be made with this trimming step.)

The fences for the sled are pre-drilled, and the holes are counter-sunk on the under-side. Why? MDF doesn't stay flat when you drill into it, it deforms upward around the screw, making a lump that will prevent the fence from settling all the way down onto the sled floor's surface, and gluing up properly. You could screw it down, take the screws out, and re-flatten the surface, I suppose, but this is faster and easier, and doesn't depend on the MDF holding the second set of threads.

Glue is smeared on the underside of the fence, which is then put down. First screw goes in at the business end of the fence. Then you fine-tune the 45, then drive a screw down at the other end. Check the angle again. If it's off, take that second screw out, adjust the fence, and put another screw into a different hole to fix the position. Then drive the rest of the screws, driving that 'off-angle' screw last. Be as precise as you can about getting the 45 as close as you can... it's the whole purpose of the sled, and the only critical step that will really make or break this project.

Repeat for second fence.

I used brass inserts in the fences so I could bolt down the toggle clamps. It's just easier than holding the work down by hand.

Indexed

No, I'm not referring to Jessica Hagy. I'm talking about the new page at the top of the blog.

I decided the other day that I really like some of the things I've written up here. But the blog format just keeps rolling along, and that means that looking for specific information is a pain. I want some of the entries to be more easily findable and reference-able.

Feedback, suggestions, and requests are welcome, of course...

Happy Wednesday...

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

As it happens, it is Doomsday Wood.

Ipé may or may not be good for people, but it has just broken my mortiser.

The splined hub that connects the handle to the shaft that drives the head up and down has stripped out. No more splines means no more leverage. And no way to even move the bit up out of the wood. Thankfully it's just a test piece.

I've been less than pleased with this machine already, but this is just obnoxious.

Monday, April 16, 2012

The World

"The world isn't interested in the storms you encountered, but whether or not you brought in the ship." -Raul Armesto