Hewing

1) Cut down the trees. 2) Turn the trees into rectangles. 3) Use the rectangles to build a building. We’ve been on step 2 all summer.

Forty-four of the timbers in our frame are “normal”, and less than 20’ long, which is the max our saw mill can handle. But 18 of them are either too long, or have other irregularities (intentional curves, forks, etc.) that make them un-millable on our machine. We’ve been preparing these timbers for use in the old way— by hewing them with axes.

Hewing is a really simple, accessible, and inexpensive way to process timber, but it’s difficult to do by modern standards of convenience. Working through a log is almost a spiritual experience. There’s the kind of dull euphoria that comes from intense physical labor, but there’s psychological time travel, too. Doing this kind of work puts you in direct connection with thousands of years of human labor.

When you swing an axe at a log in such a way as to produce a building, you employ the exact same methods with the exact same tools our ancestors used to construct their indoor world— barns, bridges, railroads, cathedral roofs, ships (there’s mention of hewing in the Odyssey)… When you’re hewing, you’ll find that you can’t keep bugs off your face, that your hands swell at the end of the day, and that the axe cuts differently when sharpened to a steeper angle. There’s a thrill in realizing these little things just as others have realized them for thousands of years. The techniques and tools have barely changed. Even our axes, bought at local antique stores, were forged by human hands generations ago and used for decades in these same forests. There’s something deeply meaningful and reassuring about using old tools.

I prefer to hew in sturdy clothes like boots and heavy canvas pants when the weather allows, but the weather rarely allows. Hewing is an athletic endeavor, pretty much, and athletic clothes make as practical an outfit as any. You could hew in Hokas while listening to chillwave on bluetooth ear buds just as practically as you could hew in britches and a tricornered hat and you’d still be getting good work done.

Friends and neighbors who visit us out in the woods often remark on how time-consuming and impractical hewing appears to be. This often leads us to one of my favorite subjects— the economics of hewing.

Axes and chalk lines are cheap (~$300 total) compared to gas-powered saw mills (~$8000), and so the only costs of hewing seem to be time and Advil. Only recently, with the practice of seven logs behind me, was I able to hew an entire timber in a single day of work. At that rate, it’s difficult to imagine keeping pace with the saw mill, which can produce about 4 timbers on a good day. But good days with the mill are few and far between. There are hours spent on wheel alignment, surprise mechanical issues, entire days of track recalibration, trips to town to buy more gas, blade sharpening, and countless other routine maintenance procedures. These things cost money and use up work hours. But during those mill work hours, I’m a hundred feet away swinging an axe and steadily working through timber. Add to that the fact that the milled timbers will need their own additional surface finishing step, and hewing starts to emerge as a contender. It’s the kind of contender I find myself rooting for a lot these days.

-Kyle

Timber Harvest

The time for cutting and hauling trees out of the woods is winter, while the ground is frozen and covered in snow. Working in the winter protects the forest floor from the heavy scraping of logs and equipment. It also keeps dirt and mud off of the logs, which will preserve the sharpness of sawmill blades later on.

We finished our timber harvest a week ago, only about 6 hours before the ground thawed.

Earlier this winter we cleared trails through the forest so that our cut trees could be reached by tractor. For some spots, like the creek below, we constructed skidding bridges from dead trees. This would allow the tractor to pass over muddy areas without getting stuck, and without causing any issues with erosion or runoff.

The sticks on top are small, but there are big logs underneath that allow the creek to flow freely through the whole mess.

Our tractor is a Kioti DK4510. We set it up with pallet forks and an Igland logging winch for the work ahead. This equipment was expensive for us and felt extravagant to buy, but in the next year of work it will have saved us more than its cost in material and labor expenses (we’ll be using it for excavation, trenches, and snow plowing as well).

Because we’ll be building a timber frame, we have to be really intentional about the trees we’re cutting. Beams in the frame vary in size, and also species in order to meet strength requirements. This meant we had to identify and account for every timber out in the woods while it was still standing as a tree.

White pine is our first choice for timbers. This one is enormous, but only about 85 years old. It looks like it grew really quickly early in its life while the land was still open sheep pasture.

Some parts of our frame design call for spruce and hemlock, which are stronger, but tougher to work with hand tools.

This log will be the single largest timber in the frame— a 20’ 8x12 wood shop tie beam (overhead, holding two sides of the building together). The long span (18’), and its service in supporting both sides of a lofted floor determined its dimensions.

Every single log has a specific location in the frame. We label the ends with information that corresponds to our milling plan, so that when we drag a log onto the mill we’ll flip to its page in the binder and confirm its finished dimensions.

Three wood shop tie beams ready for the mill, and Herrie ready for the milling.

-Kyle

The Workshop's Workshop

We’re going to be building our timber frame workshop this winter, and we needed a sheltered place to work. We didn’t want to spend a few thousand dollars on a big tent, so we built our own out of a few spruce trees from the woods and a clear 20x30 tarp. For the time being, this is going to be the workshop’s workshop.

The challenge was going be the peak of the roof, which needed to be pretty tall (to shed snow), and heavy (to stabilize the base). We didn’t have access to a crane, so we made a gin pole. A gin pole is just a tall pole (traditionally spruce) with a block & tackle lashed to the top, and a few guy lines to stabilize the whole thing once it’s upright.

After messing around with knots and pulleys for a little while, we got the pole up and started moving heavy things against gravity right away.

These things don’t look that heavy, but they were really heavy. We didn’t know how to assess the weight, and broke a couple ropes and pulleys before we figured it out.

We’ll be working on timber frame joinery here in a couple months, and keeping the tractor out of the snow in the meantime. Some video on the process below.

Classic Horsepower

Having pursued alternative, low-impact ways of living over the past year or so, it was pretty cool to get to a draft animal networking event.

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We were at Sanborn Mills Farm in New Hampshire for the Draft Animal Power Network’s Field Days event, camping in the woodlot at night, and learning the economics of harvesting that very timber with horses during the day (it’s competitive with machines!) There were a lot of cool people there, and a lot of overlap with the weaving/dying/fiber arts community.

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Working practically and thoughtfully with animals represents a different way forward. A way that can be supported by the land, and support the land in return. There were a lot of great idealogical, ecological, and philosophical lessons this past weekend, and I expect that working with animals will be a part of our own way forward.

-Kyle

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Future Rags

New clothes available in the web shop October 1st. We only made a small handful of these things, as the construction process takes a long time, and the cloth is pretty expensive.

All the cloth used for this upcoming bunch of clothes was woven by Bingo-Fushiori outside of Fukuyama City, Japan on 1950s shuttle looms. There aren’t many mills weaving cloth on a small-scale and sustainable, but commercially viable way in 2021. Bingo-Fushiori has been doing it for over a hundred years, and they’re still doing it.

Making clothes in tiny batches allows us to use cool cloth like this (cloth is a major hurdle in sustainability and decentralized clothing production, and I want to write more about that in the future.


AWA SEERSUCKER SHIRT

This shirt is made from lightweight cotton seersucker. It has a different feel from the traditional cotton seersuckers we’ve worked with in the past— this one is really soft and springy. The buttons are natural mother of pearl. The cut is full, and based on a favorite vintage shirt we picked up at The Getup Vintage in Montpelier a long time ago. The buttonholes, sleevehead seam allowance, and label window are stitched by hand. The label is hand painted. The hang tag is block-printed on bark from a storm-felled birch tree behind our house.

FUSHI MARBLED CHORE COAT

This cotton is light and airy with varying fiber thicknesses in the warp (it’s real slubby). Naturally dyed with indigo and persimmon juice. It’s cool, crisp, and heavily textured. The buttons are vintage Italian corozo.

The cut is based on our favorite ‘60s military jacket— full and boxy. It’s made to be worn over anything from a t-shirt to a heavy sweater, and the weight/weave will make it comfortable indoors year round. The tightness of the sleeve closure can be adjusted. The buttonholes and label window are stitched by hand. The label is resist-dyed with fermented persimmon tannin. The hang tag is block-printed on bark from a storm-felled birch tree behind our house

KASURI TOTE

Cotton kasuri cloth naturally dyed with indigo. That’s not patched together— it’s woven that way. This bag can hold a few records, some stuff from the farmers market, a little dog. It has an interior pocket large enough for a big phone, a handful of drugs, or a field guide for identifying native trees. The pocket can be secured shut with the hand carved birch toggle and hand stitched buttonhole. There’s a solid brass trigger snap to hold keys. 





PHASE II

Hi, hello, greetings. Maybe you know us from our tailoring work, or maybe not. We’ve stepped away from tailoring for a while to work on this new thing, and we’re finally ready to roll it out of the garage. 

After our Nashville shop was roughed up by a tornado in 2020 we started to think about our work and life in new ways. This iteration of Herrie is our first step toward living and working in those new ways-- something like phase two of three.

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We moved to Vermont. We’ve been reading a little E.F. Schumacher, some Richard Sennet, and a lot of Wendell Berry. We’re eager to work in small ways, to be connected to our community and be connected to the land. We’re not doing anything special, just making clothes, but we want to use that as a way to look at bigger things. 

We’ll use this blog to look at those bigger things, to get into the details of how and why we make things, and to highlight people who do cool work. Ok, see you soon. 

-Herrie & Kyle

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