My Workbench Pt 2 - Roman Bench

Since I set out to build my first workbench, nearly 2 years have passed. My life has shifted considerably in that time, I've gotten myself a full time job as an engineer, I've had 6 different roommates (don't worry, the current two are amazing and here to stay) but this project has stayed as an ever-present weight on my chest. This unscalable mountain of a project has kept sat at base camp for so long that my feelings on this project are strong and many.

When I last blogged about this project, I noted I had made but a small dent in the project materially, and instead focused on celebrating the amount of 'side quests' I had conquered, things like learning to sharpen my tools and doing my first ever glue-up. Although I ended that post hopeful and proud of what I've accomplished, inside myself I still could not envision the end of the project. As I clambered slowly up the mountain I still could not see the summit, and worse, when I looked own, I could see the journey back would be short and gentle.

Along my climb, came a week long stick chair class in September (my best post yet). This class worked to ease much of my anxiety and insecurity and in doing so finally allowed me to feel apart of the community. Through witnessing (and personally suffering) so many failures, I was able to see the great resolve and problem solving toolkits of my teachers and fellow woodworkers. It was an amazing experience and I was ready to use the momentum from that class to carry me up and over the wall.

Weeks went by after that class without touching a tool. I simply couldn't bring myself onto my feet, down the two flights of stairs and into my shop. I dreamed of it, I desired to be with my tools again but the sheer cliff face towered above me, leaving my legs unmoving.

I no longer cared if the mountain was the source of my fear or if with great perseverance, it could be scaled. Either way I was stationary and the only thing left was the change what I was choosing to climb.

The idea to shift the project was sparked a couple of months ago by a kind stranger who upon finding my blog, reached out to encourage my work. Mike proudly sent me beautiful pictures of the roman workbench he had just completed. His work was tidy and simple and it sparked an idea within me that I chewed on for weeks.

I quickly consumed everything I could find about roman workbenches, I read Chris Schwartz' book on them, read any article I could find of people using them and studied every blog post of someone using one. I fell in love with the form and the punk romantics of my shop being even less recognisable as a modern woodworking shop.

The benefits over the Quick Stack Workbench I had been building were clear: it was simpler, more portable, and used joinery that I'd just studied in my chair class (cylindrical mortise and tenon). I also could cannibalise parts of the bench I was planning to abandon, like the slab top and the carvers vice I'd bought. I battled hard against sunk cost fallacy for weeks, but the right decision eventually won out... I had to give up on the Quick Stack Workbench and build a Roman workbench.

So I bought LAP's video class on building a Roman workbench, an invaluable resource that was been the perfect guide, with everything you need and nothing you don't. Lost Art Press even has oodles of support within blog posts that got me out of several jams, like figuring out how to hand cut wedges.

With freshly printed plans in hand, I found my way into my shop to do good work. As weeks rolled on, I found myself getting into my shop more and more, the excitement of overcoming the next challenging operation was driving me. I sweated and swore, I solved problems, kept a cool head and learnt so much along the way. I pushed and pushed, and soon began to find the routine I'd always dreamed of.

I've done good hours on this bench. One particularly week, I got to the shop twice after work and then did my longest day in the shop (6hrs) on the Saturday. I never thought I'd be able to achieve that.

Even better, this project has had so many firsts, great and challenging sections of my climb where I had to strive to try something new. I managed to learn to:

• Hand cut cylindrical tenons
• Writhe leg stock with a froe
• Hand cut a huge square mortice
• Shape writhed legs
• Level a huge surface with only hand planes
• Hand cut wedges

Not every first went perfectly, but I could feel each repeat operation only becoming better than the last.

This is not to say it all just suddenly started going smoothly, there were still weeks where a tool was not disturbed, where I had to gestate and plan a problem or just couldn't bring myself down those stairs. But I could constantly feel the progress, I could see what I had achieved and what tasks remained. And now, I can't believe its done. I can't believe I made my own bench.

The second the finish was even a little dry, it was in my shop to begin my first furniture piece on my own, this stool from the Anarchist's Design Book. I began by shaping the seat, and I was quickly very impressed of how quickly I could work and the quality of what I was producing. I set out to drill the mortices and then...

Until very recently, I would've had a small breakdown and allowed this 'failure' to ruin my day (possibly week) and all kill all my momentum, but for some reason, as I swept up those hard earned shavings, I couldn't tear the smile off my face.

This time I could see the summit and I am ready to climb.

This project feels like it has taken a village, the support I've received over the last nearly two years is immeasurable. I want to thank all of you who have cheered me on, provided advice and even just listened.

I want to specially thank Astral and Henry who both were brilliant apprentices when I needed them, Henry doing his best impression of John Gay (I was Ebenzer) during the glue up and Astral doing an amazing job sight lining drilling the mortices.

Thank you all dearly.