Not too far from here an old factory sits quietly alongside the Farmington river. Once upon a time it was the pride of the townspeople. The products made there were superior quality and sold around the world. The company employed most of the town. Those were the good times, but now they’re gone. Groups of business people have tried to revive and repurpose the old mill—none to any good effect. Sure, there are still some tenants inside. A few businesses continue to turn out some product, but for the most part, bitter and defeated ghosts walk the hallways.

I thought about the old axe factory today as I cut up some kindling for the wood stove that heats my shop. The small Fayette R. Plumb Co. hatchet I use almost every day felt good in my hand—its hickory handle burnished smooth from decades of use. Most of the original finish on the handle has worn off, and the gold foil Boy Scout seal is tattered and illegible. I’ve had this tool since 1963 when I joined the Scouts at age eleven. Somehow, it has followed me through countless moves back and forth across the country. I’ve always taken it for granted.

The Plumb tool company can be traced back to Jonathan Yerkes, who had been an established Moreland, Pennsylvania toolmaker since 1856. Yerkes moved his concern to Philadelphia and partnered with a young man named Fayette Plumb in 1887. Eventually, Plumb bought out his partner and the name was changed to the Fayette R. Plumb Company. These were tools made to work and made to last. Over the next hundred years, Plumb manufactured fine tools in Philadelphia, until the company was consolidated with the Cooper Group and manufacturing was shifted primarily to China to cut costs. 

Like so many products once made in this country, axes are much cheaper to buy from places like Mexico and China. Will those tools stand the test of time? Now, I don’t doubt that the people who toil in those foreign factories are fine folks. They deserve a shot at a better life, just like our ancestors did here. It only makes me sad that most of what remains of all that effort is a tool that will probably outlive me. 

Interestingly, my particular Plumb hatchet utilizes an epoxy resin to attach the head to handle. The process, which Plumb patented on September 2, 1958 is said to reduce the vibration of the tool overall. Reducing vibration is obviously a benefit in a striking tool but not in a guitar. That gummy epoxy is still doing its job today fifty years later. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an axe to grind.

The week has really flown by. I’ve been so busy with a host of things that I’m only now getting a chance to survey the fitting of Sakura’s parts. Eight long months ago, I delivered the steel plates to be engraved with Heidi at Baron. They were right in the middle of some very high-profile jobs so I knew I’d have to wait my turn. Luckily, I had plenty of other work to do, but now it’s time to get back on the Sakura. The first step is checking the fit, as the guitar has been painted in the interim.

The brushed nickel finish looks great against the transparent cherry lacquer, and the neck fit is perfect so I won’t have to do any finessing there.

Time to dig out the hardware I set aside for this build and carry on. More in a few days. I’ll post some photos of the back plate then.

 In keeping with my intention to construct individually singular builds for my Signature Series guitars, I’ve made certain that the cases are unique to each guitar as well. The Crow, inspired in part by travelling musicians and the escapades depicted in Kerouac’s On the Road, will receive a lacquered, woven-cloth covered hard case. The covering, which is often erroneously refered to as tweed, is actually a twill material familiar to guitarists as the finish used by Fender on their 1950s amplifiers and guitar cases. My reference was a 1940s suitcase that I found in a junk shop in New Hampshire.

The modern material supplied by the manufacturer was not an acceptable reproduction, so I went about lacquering it myself. I wanted the patina of age and experience that would be a fitting companion to the guitar itself.

The final touch was to add a hygrometer to monitor the humidity within the case. The gauge was inserted into the case pocket from the outside, which required a pair of pass-throughs to allow the interior air to reach the sampling point on the back of the hygrometer. I used brass grommets to match the rest of the case hardware.

Here a setting tool is used to crimp the grommet onto the pocket lid. This connects the main chamber of the case to the pocket.

I combed through my leather selection to find a remnant to use for the case pocket’s pull tab. I’d entertained making the pull something crow or bird-themed, but rejected the idea as too cute and just went with a utilitarian pull tab of brown leather to match the case trim. 

Once trimmed to size and burnished to match, I punched a hole and fastened the pull to the pocket door flap with a brass rivet.

After the gauge was sealed to the outside with silicone I could insert the pocket into the case. The orientation is such that it can be read easily when the case stands on its end or side.

Now it was just a matter of fitting everything and screwing the mounting blocks into the case. The inside is finished with red velvet plush and the back of the gauge is covered except for another brass grommet.

The entire idea is to allow the interior humidity and temperature to be read from the outside. This is particularly useful when the instrument is in a rack with other guitars.

For an all analog solution, I think it turned out quite well. After living with the results for a few days, it has become so normal to check the readings that I can’t imagine not having it there. The Crow’s nest is ready.

Wow. It didn’t seem possible, yet there it was. Two feet of heavy snow before the leaves were even close to being off the trees. The result was catastrophic. On our road the trees went down like tenpins, pulling down powerlines and bowling over utility poles. In an apocalyptic orange flash, transformers energized with tens of thousands of volts were tossed into the ravines around us. The roads were blocked, the power was out and even cell service was extremely spotty.

What followed was a week of melting snow for water and living like campers. After rebuilding a reluctant chainsaw, I got to work with neighbors to clear a path out. Luckily, we’ve got solar heat here, so at least we didn’t freeze.

I didn’t really miss the gym as there was plenty of physical labor to be done. Just when I’d thought the splitting and stacking of firewood was about finished, we had twenty times that amount to clear off the road just to get out.

Generators, jugs of fuel, tractors and chainsaws. By the third day, we could get onto the main roads, although there were plenty of downed powerlines to avoid.

After a full week, the power was finaly back, but twelve days into it there’s still no internet. I’m posting this from mylaptop in a cafe.

Downstate, things weren’t quite so bad. One of the first emails that I was able to access informed me that Heidi Roos had finished the engraving for the Sakura guitar, so I decided to take a ride down to Baron Engraving to pick it up. When Heidi, Pat Stuhlman and Custom Shop manager Tom Lent presented the work to me, I was lost for words. Heidi had reproduced my drawing, and improved it by adding a three-dimensional depth not evident in my original art.

The engraving and gold work exceeded my expectations completely. The detail is amazing and the nuance of the inlaid golds really make this a superior piece. The photos here don’t do it justice. While in the Baron shop, I did take a few photos of some of their other work in progress.

Check out this Colt revolver in a matte nickel finish. Hartford’s best made better.

On Heidi’s workbench was a shotgun part positioned underneath the stereo microscope she uses to see her work as she engraves with a mryiad of fine tools.

Here, Heidi holds the bridge pickup cover for the Sakura. It completes the cherry blossom engraving on the front plate pickguard seamlessly. You can see the brushed nickel background, rose gold blossom and yellow gold leaf highlights. I can’t wait to get some better shots back at the Workshop.

Regular readers of this page are familiar with my obsession with vehicles. True enough, my current column in Premier Guitar maps out paralells between guitars and cars. So please forgive me if I dwell a bit more on the full-throttle side of my brain.

In addition to hanging out in my shop and building guitars, I write for automotive publications and websites, including Carspondent.com, home of the Active Lifestyle Vehicle awards. ALV is the only car-of-the-year program to combine the input of nationally-recognized automotive journalists with elite and area athletes to determine which cars and trucks best meet the needs of buyers with active lifestyles. To my delight, I was asked to participate as a member of the judging panel. As a bicycle enthusiast and outdoorsman-by-default, I felt that I could at least add loading guitars and amps into the vehicles as a real-world test. Our mission: drive and evaluate thirty two vehicles in seven categories.

This year, the ALV evaluations were held in Phoenix, Arizona at the home of Local Motors, builders of incredible off-road vehicles—drool-worthy machines from hell. The event was also sponsored by OnStar and world-famous collector car auction powerhouse Russo and Steele.

Below is a view inside the Local Motors factory. LM treated us to a nice breakfast buffet and a tour of the facilities. Through the windows behind the Astroturf seating area you can see into the engineering studio. 

Seeing the Rally Fighters being built up close was a thrill. I’d followed the evolution of the company over the years so it was a priveledge to be invited inside.

Lusting over the stripped down and purposeful machines along with me were with esteemed journalists (and heroes of mine) Larry Edsall and Denise McCluggage. If you’re a car person, Larry and Denise probably need no introduction. For those who aren’t familiar I’ll say that if there’s a subject in the automotive world that Larry hasn’t published something on I have yet to find it. Apart from being a fine author, journalist and motorsports photographer, Denise drove a Ferarri for Luigi Chinetti’s organization (NART) and was class winner at the Sebring International 12 hour in 1961. Unphased by A-list rock stars, I was thrilled and nervous to meet her.

 
Also on hand was former Indy 500 racer Lyn St. James. Before Danica Patrick, Lyn was Indy’s first female Rookie of the Year in the first of her seven 500s. In 1995 she set the world record on a closed-course for women—averaging 225.722 mph. Yow! 

I was hoping to ride shotgun with Lyn testing the 550 horsepower Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon. This thing has got some serious grunt—sort of a Corvette station wagon. By the way, the Caddy would make a slick ride to get you to a gig—as many musicians tend to run late. It actually will swallow up a half-stack, three guitars and a pedalboard with the rear seats folded down. If you are playing club gigs and can afford this ride, you’re probably doing it for fun anyway. Here during the initial walk around Lyn is casting a glance at the Range Rover Evoque.

Despite my initial impression that it was a watered-down suburbanite car, the Evoque intrigued me in person. Small enough to get into my garage at home (hint) it was nimble and fun to toss around. The interior was pure joy, with double stitched leather everywhere. Powered by a turbocharged four cylinder, the Evoque is at once a throwback to the original Land Rovers and a look at the future of the marque. I had to ask the brand specialist if it was indeed a four—it was fairly spunky. I barely know who Victoria Beckham is, but I think this car is sexy. Will it go offroad? I think most buyers never will.

Another favorite of mine was the new Fiat. Like a blast from the past, Fiat comes back to American roads with this funky little car. Although totally worthless as a musician’s gigmobile due to a miniscule cargo area, I had to vote it up as one of the most enjoyable rides. The smile on my face as I zipped through the Phoenix traffic was almost as big as when I floored the Caddy. The exterior color cues inside the car were a nice touch.

 
Surprisingly quiet, the Fiat registered an average of 62 db at 60 mph—about the same as my Audi S4. For comparison, the Audi Q7 on hand was about 59db and the Cadillac was 56db. 

My driving partner, Ironman triathlete Jeremy Hendricks and I both found the Mazda 5 to be well thought out and comfortable. In most categories the Mazda was unceremoniously capable. From ease of loading to seat comfort and control placement, it checked all the right boxes. The 5’s proficient yet unremarkable personality won its class with a rational-minded score, yet neither of us could envision owning one. Personally, the “Zoom Zoom” whisper on the TV comercials has lost my vote for any of their products. How’s that for pretzel logic?

Audi had their Q7 and A7 make the final cut. I was surprised how the Q7 felt much lighter and managable than its size and weight might indicate. Probably the most refined of the bunch, the A7 seemed slightly out of place among the scrappy Kias, Nissans and VWs. It wasn’t for me to drive as its popularity with the testers kept it too busy all day. Shame, it probably would have spoiled me for the rest.

Out on Local Motors’ off-road test track, the Land Rovers and Jeeps were trundling over basketball-sized rocks at a moderately slow pace—both showing strong trail manners. Until I lived in New England I had no clue about how this sort of thing could ever be important. 

Then, to put things into perspective, Local Motors rolled out their Rally Fighter (road legal in 50 states) and hammered through the course at 40+ mph. The LM test driver got a little air and tested the 20 inch suspension travel with photo-spy Brenda Priddy aboard. Go Brenda!

Next year, I’m driving that.

What a great way to begin the week in the Workshop. The air was cool and filled with the smells of early fall. The morning light streaming over the hills and through the trees made it a perfect time to go for a walk. I noticed that the first colored leaves were already on the ground.

As Heidi and I walked the road to the Workshop I thought of my time spent living in Northern California, where many mornings felt like this. Somehow my mind wandered to one of my favorite books, Steinbeck’s East of Eden. Maybe it’s the feeling of being alone in the middle of an expanse of nature, far from the city. Or perhaps it’s the grounding comfort of the dependable cycle of the seasons—immune to the petty travails of humankind.

Adam Trask walked alongside us silently, wiping his brow with a handkerchief and squinting as he looked into the distance. Off in the trees, among the dappling light I caught a glimpse of a guitar—and then it was gone. How can I capture all this in a build?

Pressing onward with the Hell’s Half Acre guitar, I’ve gotten the neck blank to the rough carve stage. To do this, I use a cabinet scraper as described in my previous post. After the truss rod has been installed and the spline glued in, the final headstock shape could be cut. Jim looks on as I finsih up.

In the photo below, you can see the tuner holes which are undersized until the moment the tuners are fitted. This will give a snug fit for improved vibration transfer.

The stepped channel for purfling and outside binding has also been cut. I’m using a half-herringbone purfling made of alternating maple and ebony pieces to create a look that evokes an image of the cowboy’s lariat. Here, you can also see the ring groove that has been cut at the headstock tip for the pearl monogram inlay. More after a while...

I like Saturdays. It’s quiet and nobody calls, so the workflow is uninterupted. I also like it because it’s usually when Jim comes in to help out. He’s always curious about details, so I'm usually showing him a lot of stuff I’ve taken for granted for decades. Like how to carve a neck by hand with a scraper. I refer to him as my apprentice but he’s really more like my memory exercise trainer.

Little things that come instinctually to me, like how to slightly bend the scraper, are revelations to someone on the learning curve. Jim is a quick study though. He’s good with tools, and his keen intellect allows him to see things both close-up and within the bigger picture. Most of all, he’s got the right attitude. In exchange, I get stimulating conversation and continuing education on all sorts of subjects.

With a degree in Literature and Folklore from University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, and University of Edinburgh, Scotland Jim has always tread the line between his head and his hands. He was first introduced to instrument making while doing research on dulcimer builders in the Black Mountain region of North Carolina and can’t get it out of his blood. Even when we’re talking about other things, like books, eastern religion or motorcycles, somehow it all relates to the job at hand. That’s why I like Saturdays.