I’ve added a photo gallery in the sidebar to the right of the main blog feed. I think nearly all these projects have been shared here over the years but this makes for easy viewing. I’ll continue to add images and re-post some older work as I get time so please check back feel free to continue the feedback, and I hope you enjoy.
In 2012 I decided to build a wooden packframe. What started out as a Sunday afternoon project led me down many paths, from Iron-Age Europe to 21st Century military designs and it took about a year of stewing around before I actually got around to building something. It was fortuitous for me that Markus at 74 FOOTWEAR DESIGN CONSULTING wrote and excellent little history of frame packs at almost exactly the same time I began researching them myself. Shortly thereafter, I discovered Steve Watts and Dave Wescott were delving into the same subject (great minds think alike I guess). After collecting many photos and drawings I dove in, and using human measurements as much as possible, I built the frame below.
A few hickory boards and some simple steam bending created a design I liked.
I decided against metal fasteners for the original project so everything was pegged and tied with rawhide.
It didn’t take long to build and tying it all up with rawhide was a simple evening job. The next step was to create some sort of support to keep the frame from my back and attach shoulder straps. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded since comfort and strength had to be combined while keeping possible chafing to an absolute minimum.
The two horizontal rods keep the uprights from converging under tension and the three cross-strakes are stabilized by being set in grooves on the uprights. The steam bent support and top bar add to the overall sturdiness of the frame.I decided that simple was best so I used heavy leather, stretched tight, across the back kept the straps fairly straight-forward.Several people asked about the need for a curved top bar; well why not? I like curves and I think it reminiscent of the Otzi-style simple frame.
An Otzi reconstruction. Click the image to see the article there.
Was it good enough?
The answer is probably. It was mostly used to pack gear in for demonstrations and spent most of its time as a show-piece. Honestly, over the years I owned it, it only went on one real backpacking trip, and that was even a fairly short one. However, I learned some things along the way. I like the shape, it was fairly comfortable, it was certainly sturdy enough,and it carried a heavy load without much difficulty or discomfort. So the design was more-or-less right for me.
On problem was that I didn’t like the tensioning of the leather back straps as it was difficult to draw them tight enough. That’s how packframe number 2 came to be. I began by deciding to improve the back padding system but with a few other minor changes in mind, this happened.
A bunch of new parts generated themselves on my workbench one lazy afternoon.
Parts –
Recycled fir for the uprights came from a 125 year old door frame, some planks for the cross-bars came from the scrap pile, and a couple pieces were pulled from the first packframe. Before I knew it, I was bending a thicker and better arch for the top piece and construction began. Since I wasn’t working from a plan and there is no real standard for this type frame I pondered the whole thing for a couple days to decide how to fasten the parts (pegs, lashings, screws, or glue) and began assembly a few nights later. I have gathered quite a few old screws of various sizes over the last couple years in my housing restoration so I decided to use those for the basic construction.
After too long a mental debate, construction went pretty quickly.
Construction technique –
As can be seen in the images, the cross-bars are let into the uprights in a simple lap joint for strength and racking stability and fastened with reclaimed brass screws. The platform support is lapped and pegged with wooden dowels.
Side view showing lap joints and side supports.
I added a small oak angle brace to further support the platform support which is also lapped and pegged. The small missing piece visible here is operator error. When I was cutting the laps I was in such a groove that I cut the low one on the wrong plane. I’ll probably fill the gap with a small wood piece, but for now, I live with the hideous disfigurement. Also visible here are the walnut caps I pegged to the bottom of the uprights. Old Douglas fir is a fine wood but can be very brittle and the end grain would probably not fare very well under hard use on rocky terrain.
The frame in all its glory, waiting to be packed and carried off into the sunset.
Straps and Suspension –
I chose 12 oz Hermann Oak leather for the lower pad stretched tight and permanently fastened to the frame with brass screws and finishing washers. The essential suspension depends solely on the cordage being strung tight while the leather pad distributes to stress across a smooth and wide surface. I think it will be quite comfortable.
Shoulder strap connection, a whittled oak dowel that is easily removed.
I would like to make a removable rucksack for this frame and would like to be able to utilize the straps either so making them easily removable was a must.
Waist support, 12 oz harness leather. 6-7 oz leather was used for the back pad.
As for hip belts; I’m still undecided at this time but I suspect that sometime soon I will be constructing one.
A better view of the top arc and the overall harness.
I’ll continue to update the progress here and try to remember to take more photos along the way. It really hinders work to have to think about documenting yourself along the way but I know people appreciate seeing the steps.
This is what happens as you travel, receive gifts, buy better stuff, always need a good knife, etc.
From the upper left: Camillus 5-1967 (a friend carried this through Vietnam), my small Arkansas stone for field touch-ups, Buck folder, two classic Victorinox Pioneer knives (I’ve carried this style every day since high school) and a small pen knife, a lock-blade Buck made in Idaho, a 19th century bone handle knife cut down from a larger eating knife, two Gerber multi-tools (the original is from 1990 and a more modern, but heavy version beneath), a hand-made patch knife by M.P. with walnut neck sheath I’ve had since 1986, a Solingen-made high carbon Bowie knife with ebony handle, two classic Case XX folders, two small folding Gerbers, a hand-made camp knife from a fine Colorado maker, and at the bottom my “go to” Buck field knife that has worked on archaeological projects, cut up animals, dog holes, and performed about every other imaginable task.
This photo came about as I decided to organize my camping gear. While emptying packs and bags I realized there were knives in every one, usually in more than one pocket. After throwing them out on the floor and arranging for a quick photo I began to think about the ones in various tool boxes, my wood carving knives, a couple collector knives I can’t seem to part with, and others stashed away around the house. My search for minimalism is failing when it comes to good tools.
Just a short show-and-tell today because I needed a new eating spoon. I lost my old favorite a few weeks ago and as near as I can remember, it was about 20 years old. I remember this because it was cut from the end of a bow stave of a bow I love. Here is the new one made from Walnut harvested in southeast Missouri.
The growth rings helped determine the sweep to the handle.
It is satisfying to use something you create yourself, even if it isn’t perfect.
Maybe not as dense as Osage orange (Maclura pomifera) but walnut will hold up well and darken with time.
The board this came from was quite variable in density and color. This spoon comes from the lighter-colored part.
For me, function comes first for a tool like this but grace and beauty should not be left out of the equation.
After it was finished, the whole spoon was rubbed down with walnut oil and it will be treated again in a couple of days to help protect the wood from soaking up flavors.
Dowel Cutter – A useful tool for large-scale production
A version of this post appeared here in 2012 but here is an update as prelude to a coming post.
I’ve been using a Veritas dowel and tenon cutter to rough out arrow shafts from planks. Quite a while ago I posted about the jig I built for cutting the shafts and thought it might need some follow-up. Although I didn’t have much in the way of appropriate wood available for arrows on the day the cutter arrived, I did have one well-aged straight-grained poplar board that had been set aside to age for arrows to experiment with. The cutter, once set up, takes a piece of square stock of 7/16″ – 1/2″ and cuts it down to a 3/8″ dowel.
Looking through the feed end of the dowel cutter.
When the shaft comes out of the cutter it tends to start wobbling and the effect increases quickly. The solution is to create some sort of guide for the shaft so I came up with wooden blocks, as seen below with slightly oversized holes drilled inline with the cutter. There is a second identical block set back a few inches further to increase stability. After the first few experiments I could really tell that the stabilized shafts were much smoother than the unstabilized ones.
Shavings as they exit the cutter.
The wood can be turned by hand or a wrench or, as in this case, it can be driven by a drill motor chucked with a square socket (not pictured). The drill motor is not only faster but seems to cut smoother due to the high rate of rotation.
Before and after a light sanding. Sharpening the blade reduced this spiral of fuzziness.
The above photo is blurry but the right shaft demonstrates the rough “fuzzy” state as they come out of the the jig and the left is after a few minutes with some 100 and 220 grit sandpaper. They are subsequently burnished and await nock reinforcements as the next step. After putting a better edge on the blade, the shafts come out a littler smoother but it really seem to vary with the type of wood being used.
Image from the English War Bow Society. Click the image to link to their site and find out more about English warbows.
I was able to turn out eight experimental shafts in a short time. Two were rejected immediately as they has little kinks in the grain and two were rejected during sanding due to blemishes in the wood. They’ll probably be okay for light weight kid’s bows but are not acceptable for heavy, fast bows. The spine feels a little light to me but I’ll hold out to see what comes of them. The goal is to create some fairly standard issue British war bow arrows and see how they perform. Since I use wooden dowels to peg together many other projects, very few shafts have gone to waste since this purchase.
Note: many great arrows have been cut with the Veritas cutter since the original post in 2012 and I will do my best to continue documenting the work.
Some Thoughts on Making Arrows, an Underappreciated Art –
I have been making my own arrows from scratch for a couple decades (since 1987 to be precise) and thought I’d showcase some I have made over the past few years. I don’t generally make them to sell and I rarely hunt these days but there is something very satisfying and meditative in gathering the materials and constructing something so practical, with such fine tuning and narrow parameters in functionality. I learned many tough lessons along the way, having no actual teacher, but I gleaned all I could from the historical resources I could find. Most cultures of the world have a martial tradition of archery and each have their advantages and limitations.
A set of seven hand-turned poplar arrows in the English tradition.
The poplar arrows above were made from aged, straight-grained wood that was split along the grain then turned in a dowel cutter. The nocks are reinforced with Bois d’arc (Osage orange) wood for added strength. The heads are conical bodkins, fletchings are prime turkey wing secured with glue and silk binding.
A “primitive” set of cane arrows with hardwood foreshafts tipped with a variety of point types.
Making matched sets –
I sometimes come across beginning arrow-makers (fletchers) who only produce “one-offs” without attempting a matched set. This is fine as an experiment or as a learning tool but does not suffice for someone who plans to actually use them for precise or regular use. The minimum I make is three but I try to produce arrows in sets of six or twelve. Since the plank used for the the arrows above worked out to produce exactly seven shafts, I kept the group together.
I believe it was a writing by Arthur Young where I first learned that to have a truly great set that sometimes you had to sacrifice a few as imperfect. With all the work that goes into an arrow, it is painful to cull one out but sometimes it must be done. The weights may match, the spine may feel the same, but one may just not fly as perfectly from the bow as the rest. In the past, I have marked these and they become stump shooters of ones that you don’t mind risking on a long or difficult shot.
Finding a perfect set of rivercane shafts can involve a lot of looking, sorting, and luck. People who want to purchase these hand-crafted materials and products rarely appreciate how much work goes into just gathering the materials. A dozen matched cane shafts may come from sorting a hundred plants, then aging, curing, and straightening before the arrow can even be started.
Rivercane (Arundinaria) arrows with reinforced self nocks.
Fletchings –
To produce enough fletchings for the above, one has to acquire three feathers per arrow, matched by side (all rights or lefts) and placement on the wing of the bird (e.g., second or third wing feather). This could mean wings from seven to fifteen animals depending on how picky one is just to produce five sets of fletchings.
Antler point.
Points –
Finally, the points are considered based on the needs of the archer. Will these be for hunting large or small game, target shooting, or just all around fun shooting? I use bone, antler, stone, wood, and steel depending on the intended use of the set. Although I purchase most of the metal points I use, a lot of time can go into making matched heads from natural materials.
Tools, clockwise from lower left: large awl, sewing awl, rivercane needle case, bone toothpick, sewing needles in center.
Sewing
I do quite a bit of sewing and I feel it is an essential skill for nearly everyone. My sewing includes new buckskin trousers, cotton shirts, shoes, a few leather bags, backpacks, and repairs to clothes to name just a few projects. All this has caused me to think about sewing without manufactured goods. Over a few evenings I decided to make a better primitive sewing kit. Although I can’t say that bone could fully replace the smallest steel needles in my day-to-day sewing basket, I have been able to make some very small ones indeed from some deer legs I have lying around.
This 7 centimeter (2 3/4 inch) needle, dated to approximately 50,000+ years before present, was made and used by our long extinct Denisovan ancestors, a recently-discovered hominin species or subspecies. the material is bird bone. Photo: Siberian Times (click the image for the full article).
Needles
I’ve learned that very small holes can be made with a largish stone flake or knife if it has a sufficiently acute point, drilling from one side and joining it with a hole from the other. From a sewing perspective, the smallest hole possible will provide the strongest needle. during the finishing on the smallest needles, I had a 50% failure rate splitting out the eye. It isn’t generally a total loss since the needle can be shortened and the hole drilled again. I actually found that using the flake like a knife (as opposed to a drill bit) was the best way to start a tiny hole, scraping a small slit until a significant indent is made. As with all new skills, knowledge and experience were gained along the way.
Eyed needle from the burial at Horn Shelter, Texas (links to overview of this remarkable shelter). Click the image for and article explaining the needle context specifically.
Despite their fragility, bone needles are found far back in the archaeological record of Europe, Asia, and North America. Small, eyed needles are generally considered, in the Anthropological community, as proxy evidence for tailored clothing or, in a few cases, surgical or first aid related. Unfortunately, needles don’t often survive and, no doubt, many small and broken fragments have been lost through the screen during excavation.
Awls
Awls are essentially a small spike used to pre-punch holes in tough or thick materials. Both the awls shown here are also based on archaeological examples; the awl being a universal tool in human communities. The metacarpal “knob” on the sewing awl still needs a bit of refinement but the round handle works well for repeated stitching in buckskin. Bone (and antler) can be made surprisingly sharp and hold an edge reasonably well.
Storing the Needles
Needles are sharp and dangerous to leave lying around so the next obvious step was to make a case to hold them. This is a simple affair made from rivercane with a yucca stem stopper. The cordage strengthens the tube and prevents splitting and the whole thing was rubbed down with pine tar for preservation (hence the dark coloration of the cord).
In use on buckskin lacing project.
Finally, with a thin scrap of bone I ground out a bone toothpick to keep in the travel kit as a toothpick is always a handy thing to have in the bush.