I See By Your Outfit

You'll have to wait a bit for all the touristy shots from the BIG trip (first time I was out of state in four years - my life is so riveting). I'm choosing, on this post, to join the Madogre in his quest for Cowboy Action Shooting events minus the costume party. First of all the pic: My Great Uncle Grover Hall back in the 20's or 30's. This illustrates what is cool about the outfits. I'd have killed for one when I was in the first grade. And you've got to admit, you can tell by Grover's outfit that he is indeed a cowboy.
The apparel issue in reenacting, which is similar to CAS, is one that has bugged me for a long time. I started making and selling knives aimed at reenactors because, a cruise through their supplier's websites revealed them to be seriously undersupplied on that count. I would therefore be providing a valuable service, authentic weapons of minor destruction. I have to say the folks who reenact "The War of Northern Aggression" have always been faithful and enthusiastic customers. However my assumption, since I've always had a sick fascination with the First World War, that I'd be able to just slide into a ready market for all the interesting and twisted blades produced during that conflict was sorely disappointed. I sell lots of WW1 knives, but none to reenactors and the reason appears to be: It's all about the clothes. Not to fault these fine folks a bit. There's nothing wrong with what their doing. I just don't get it. For me the WHOLE point would be the weapons. When I was a little kid playing army it never occurred to me to recreate the experience of standing in a chowline in the rain or sleeping in the mud. I wanted to shoot the shit, run around with some ugly knuckleduster and crack Boche melons, mow down waves of men with a Vickers, in short, play with the weapons. Of course you can do that anytime. You can go shoot your firearms and reenact the part of the history that's important to you but you'd have to come up with your own company. Not a problem for me. I'm an antisocial bastard. But others of a more approachable demeanor would like to be able to play with their toys and be competitive without being jumped about how closely you resemble, in the words of Curly Fletcher's song, "The Strawberry Roan" 1913, "...a bronc-bustin' man - by the looks of your clothes". Cowboys weren't about guns so much anyway. The afore quoted song runs along for six verses and never mentions them. Grover, you'll notice, isn't packing any heat. I wonder if there's any event in the modern world where one can live the cowboy experience, the ass-busting, dangerous work, the thrilling face-plants into the dirt, the total disregard by the intellectual community, the reality of being a cowboy. See what the cowboy lifestyle was really about. Oh yeah - rodeo. So I guess the whole CAS thing seems, in the end, to be a gun-shooting party. If that's the case, you ought to be able to pull that off without a dress code.

Old Steel From "The Aulde Sod"

God, have I been remiss? Actually, I was in the old home country, Helena, Montana - Land of Enchantment (and Glenn Close - she actually is in Bozeman), the Teds, Turner and Kaczinski and all them Californicators who move up to the North Country with nothing but a trust fund and a dream. The occasion of the visit was the 80th birthday (!!) of my sainted Mother. It took me out of the action, such as it is, for longer than I would have liked but, I got to hang with the Mommy and the kids got to see their Grandma and vise versa.
The big news, at least for this venue, is steel. Months ago my old high school buddy Cowboy Dan (Yes, the name is the inspiriation for the song but, no, the song's not about him - or me either... and yes, I have a Rock Star in my family, God help me). Anyway, Cowboy Dan alluded to old agricultural steel he had laying about the place and this knowledge greatly motivated me to take a five-year-old and a six-year-old on the 800 mile sweltering jaunt through the magic that is Cental Washington (where the jackrabbits carry lunch boxes) to see the G'ma. She footed the bill as well which helped.
Before we get to the CBD metal let me show you what was in my late Dad's shop:Beginning at the left, we see a chunk of mine rail track, hugely pitted and possibly not usable as scrap, but which was brought to light by yours truly from the Drumlummon Mine back when I was in high school. Morons that we were, we were in the habit of ingesting various drugs and touring abandoned mines - idiots.
Next, we move over to a collection of rock drills ranging from 1/2" to 1" hexagonal that my Grandpa had accumulated to use as various digging bars etc. They're leaning against a piece of railroad iron that, as a lad, I used to pound nails flat upon before fixing tiny little hilts to make GI Joe sized sabers.
Here's what CBD gave me. Beginning at the left, a buggy axle (that's not an axle infested by bugs - but you knew that) and some of the springs from same. In my Mom's reprinted Shears and Sawbuck catalog of 1902 I found something similar. As you can see, I've only got, roughly, half of what's there but who am I to quibble, if the procurer of such takes his cut? What really frosts me is that I could have had the whole works for ten bucks back in the day. Ah, born too late.
Further to the right is a collection of spring-shanks for a duck-foot, gang plow, a random chunk of spring steel that Dan-o found on his new dream property and a plowshare shim. Damned good steel and glad to have it - just not as sexy as the rock drills and the buggy gear.
I also scored an anvil for my lad. About a year ago I horrified all and sundry by making my six-year-old (he'll be seven next month) a forge. Of course this isn't a "real" anvil. It's the ass-end from a very old vise that my Grandad used as an anvil.


In any case, it's something for the boy to beat on as my anvil is too high for him (or he's too short for it - it depends on my mood).
Lastly, there's a bit of a story: Helena, being a mining town and having more millionaires per capita than anywhere else in 1890, there was a great demand for masonry. One of the substances needed to stick rocks and bricks together was lime. It was burned from limestone in a series of kilns just south of town which were built anywhere from 1865 forward. The picture shows one still intact with the nearer one in ruins, probably due to the earthquake of 1935. Anyway, on the side of the ruined one I found a few chunks of metal, used for reinforcing iron, sticking out of the hillside and I purposed to get some of it. It proved too hard for a hacksaw but, I spied a crack (see photo) and through judicious application of force, broke a chunk off. The surprise is that it is a wagon tire, which was easy enough to see from its profile. But more interesting, is that it is steel, forge-welded to wrought iron. I don't know what vintage this makes it but, it was a piece of scrap (hence its being used in lieu of rebar) when the kiln was built and possibly came across the country to get where it rested. Other kilns have pieces of wagon spring sticking out at odd places but they're a bit precarious to get to. besides, those are relatively intact structures that I wouldn't want to screw up for the tourists. In any case, it was a good and productive trip and look forward to lots of historic, Helena photos next post. That is to say: the next time I'm willing to melt in my office to bring you these treasures.

Successful Casting!

In the words of my Father-in-the-Lord and spiritual mentor, Homer Simpson, "Woo Hoo!" The casting, cooling during the last post, has emerged triumphant. The first photo shows it as it came out of the sand. Ewww, what a gnarly looking thing. Second photo shows it cleaned up somewhat. The secret seems to be to plan the gates so that the more constricted parts of the mold (the cross-guard) fills first.The added bonus is that my "tang liner" idea worked like a champ.
Now, this begs the question: Why this Handle? I mostly do reinterpretations of blacksmith-produced Bowies for my Civil War blades. My method of work has always been to try to put myself in the position of someone "back in the day" and make whatever knife I'm working be put together with whatever level of field-expediency that seems appropriate.
This handle, as stated earlier, is from an artillery short sword produced in Europe a few decades prior to "The War of Northern Aggression". Many of this type and others were run through the blockade to equip the under-industrialized and under-weaponed Confederacy.
My ultimate plan is to produce a Bowie based on the premise that one of the European short swords would be reconfigured either from a broken blade or by someone who just wanted a battlefield find to be of more useful size.

More on the Short Sword Handle

First of all, I know many of you have wondered: "Who the hell is Oliver Hart-Paar?" A fair question. The photo to the left shows an OHP, probably sometime in the twenties considering the steel wheels. And how about those front wheels, solid steel but narrow to fit between rows. So now you know - it's a tractor - but a great nom de plume, no?
The short sword contines apace. One disaster following another. It's silly. Casting aluminum is so simple now I can almost do it in my sleep but brass, all of 500 degrees hotter is a bitch. The metal cools before the mold is filled, the amount of slag is incredible, probably because I'm a cheapskate and have been melting plumbing fittings, scraps of extruded brass and cartridges. In any case we're moving forward. In five minutes I can go shake #3 out of the sand to see how I did. In the meantime you can get an overview of the casting process in aluminum here. And, if your curiousity is piqued, here's where I sell the article itself.
To the left is a picture of the final aluminum pattern, cast in one shot without a hitch I might add, and my other brainwave: what I call the "tang liner". Virtually all of my aluminum handles are cast onto the blade but I wanted this to be put together by means of my old fave, the peened through-tang. So, I cobbled together this thing out of 3/8" copper tubing and a piece of 1/2" copper pipe (what's the difference? Tubing is measured by outside diameter while pipe is measured on the inside). My hope is that it will leave a "thouroughfare" of the tang-appropriate size for the length of the handle.
More on the success of same at a later date.