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The vast majority of bamboo rod builders are faced with the continual task of sharpening a plane iron. Some, however, are not engaged in this task, namely makers who use hand or powered mills. But, for those of us who hand plane, understanding the unique obstacles we face is critical to planing success.  Let’s begin by examining how planing bamboo on metal forms is different from planing a piece of wood. When planing bamboo, only a very small amount of the iron is touching the bamboo strip. This is because the bamboo strip is quite thin. So, while the center of the iron is maintaining contact with the bamboo strip, the right and left sides of the iron are hovering over the metal planing forms and contacting nothing. As the bamboo strip is planed down to the forms, the iron will eventually touch the forms on the right and left. One might assume that the iron that touches the metal forms becomes less sharp than the portion of the iron in contact with the bamboo, but this is usually not the case. The section of the iron touching the bamboo will dull quicker. Bamboo is rough on irons and can cause them to dull relatively quickly. So, when planing bamboo we see that only a very small portion of the iron edge is used, and as such, the edge will dull differently at different locations. Although it may be difficult to see, in the above photo, there is a shininess or "glint" in the center portion of the iron. This is the result of light shining off of the duller radius that forms from wear. The far left and right of the iron do not reveal as much glint and therefore remain sharper.  Another interesting difference when planing bamboo is that a bamboo strip will often have different levels of moisture and differences of “grain” along the strip. Prior to planing bamboo, heat can be introduced into the bamboo numerous times. One may flame the bamboo culm, usually for aesthetic purposes. Thereafter, makers often heat and press nodes. Then makers use heat at various points along the bamboo to straighten the strips. And last, makers will often heat treat the bamboo strips, even if previously flamed. We see that heat actually changes the physical properties of the bamboo strips. But more importantly, we see that more heat may have been introduced at various points along the bamboo strip than at other points. Thus, when planing an entire strip of bamboo, the maker is using the iron to make consistent long cuts, along the bamboo strip with inconsistent moisture levels and with inconsistent physical properties at various points. So, while one portion of the bamboo may be planing nicely, another portion, often at or around the nodes where additional heat is used, may be more difficult to plane. This can result in chips or lifted pieces of bamboo. Compare and contrast this to planing a piece of wood with a relatively consistent moisture content throughout. And on top of this, the ambient humidity in one's shop, which may change throughout the year, can impact the moisture in bamboo. To combat this issue, some will introduce moisture back into the bamboo strip when planing. Although this solves the moisture issue and makes planing easier, I've found that it can reintroduce a host of problems. Moisture can reintroduce bends in the bamboo strips, and nodes can mysteriously pop out. As such, my personal preference is to focus on planing and sharpening techniques rather than reintroducing moisture.  So, how does all of this relate to iron sharpening? Well, first a bit about “sharp.” Books have been written on sharpening, and those may be worth reading. But understanding what is or what is not sharp is not an overly complex concept. In its basic form, two “planes” (here the bottom of the iron and the operative bevel) meet at a point, which forms an edge. A duller edge has a more significant radius. When sharpening an iron, the goal is to reduce the radius. Of course, without any amplification, our human eyes can only see so small, and it is difficult to see such a radius. But there are clues. Our eyes can usually determine if an iron needs sharpening. If you take an iron and tilt it in various directions, and you can see glint at any point along the edge, the iron needs sharpening. A properly sharpened iron will not have any visible glint along the edge.  Glint, however, will not tell you the sharpness of a given edge. Rather, it will only tell you if the edge needs sharpening. And herein lies one of the sharpening mysteries. Some believe that a better result will ensue with an edge that is sharpened with a 30,000 grit wet stone vs. a 3,000 grit wet stone. However, the finer the radius at the edge, the more fragile it is and the sooner it will break down and show glint. In my experience, polishing to about 3,000 or 4,000 grit (or their equivalent) is usually sufficient for bamboo rod making. (I’ve even had consistent luck at 1,000 grit or its equivalent.)  That being said, I've polished with an agate stone, which is on par with a 10,000 grit wet stone. Although I’ve found no material difference in performance initially, the edge did breakdown much earlier, which impeded my planing results much more quickly. And I have not even discussed block plane nor iron preference. The reason for this is that the plane, the iron and the sharpening system is secondary to a nice, consistent, glint free edge, regardless of the way it is achieved and maintained.  On to my current system… I prefer a vintage Stanley block plane, originally made in my home state of Connecticut, along with a replacement Hock A2 Cryo iron. I’ve found the vintage Stanley’s micro iron adjustments to be unparalleled. While there are many ways to get from point A to Z, for my own needs I find Arkansas stones to be perfect for my bamboo planing work. I do like to establish the initial bevel with diamond stones. I can be assured that I have the desired angle consistently imparted in the iron. But thereafter, I'm not concerned with removing a lot of metal when sharpening. Rather, my focus is to touch up the edge often and to maintain a consistent polished finish along the bevel, and my Arkansas stones do a great job at these tasks. Arkansas stones are not graded by grit level, but rather by hardness. The harder the stone, the more dense the stone. I typically use three stones in soft (coarse), hard (fine) and black (extra-fine). Rarely do Arkansas stones require lapping to remain flat. But if and when they do, a diamond stone with mineral oil can do the trick.  My stones, along with a leather strop and some sharpening tools, sit in a sharping holder jig that i made from scrap wood. (The leather strop is typically used to make sure the burr is removed on the previously flattened back of the iron.) The stones are glued to wood, which I stained, and pockets in my jig are lined with adhesive cork to prevent sliding when sharpening. My sharpening angle jig is screwed into a block of wood with rubber feet in front of my stones. With this positioning, I can easily set the desired sharpening angle and immediately bring it to my stones. There is a "lip" on my sharpening holder jig that is secured in the vice of a workbench directly to the left of my planing bench, making access simple and preventing my jig from moving while sharpening.  Unlike wet stones that need to be soaked in water, which can also cause block plane and iron rust, I use mineral oil as a honing liquid on my Arkansas stones. Not only does it keep the metal pieces from nesting in the stone, it keeps all metal surfaces well protected with oil lubrication. Further, unlike wet stones that require frequent lapping to avoid “cupping,” Arkansas stones maintain their flatness for a much longer period of time.
There is no perfect system, and there are many different types of stones and systems available. However, the block plane, iron and sharpening system is useless if the maker does not maintain a glint-free edge at the appropriate sharpness. And, I’ve found the best way to keep glint removed from iron edges is to maintain a simple process, free of unnecessary obstacles. Many praise modern epoxies for both their strength and longevity in widely diverse temperatures and conditions. While there is truth to such advances, it is critical that careful attention is given to both surfaces contacting the epoxy and the space between such surfaces. After initially turning my ferrule stations (cane blank area that will be affixed to the ferrule), I make sure that there is adequate space between the ferrule and cane surfaces, thereby allowing the epoxy to expand. Another critical step for success is to make sure that the internal portion of the ferrules is “roughed up” with an abrasive, such as sandpaper. Similarly, I make sure the ferrule station cane is also sufficiently rough. With two roughed surfaces, the epoxy will adhere better as it expands and hardens into all crevices. All surfaces that will come in contact with epoxy are cleaned with denatured alcohol. This will removed grease, dust and other chemicals. These areas are allowed to sufficiently dry. Thereafter, the epoxy is prepared. It is imperative that the epoxy sufficiently covers the entire ferrule station and the metal inside the ferrule. This is accomplished by not only slathering epoxy on the ferrule stations but also using a toothpick or other tool to coat the inside of the ferrule that will come in contact with the cane. With so much epoxy, it will need a way to escape when the ferrule station is pressed into the ferrule. This is accomplished by etching a shallow line down the length of the ferrule station with the edge of a small file. What is the relationship between cane and caddis in Connecticut? Connecticut was home to two of the greatest minds in cane rod building and caddis fly pattern development, E.W. Edwards and Gary LaFontaine, respectively. On a recent outing, I channeled a connection with Edwards and LaFontaine. I fished one of my cane rods that was built with multiple techniques developed by Edwards. At the end of my rod was LaFontaine’s Deep Sparkle Pupa caddis pattern. The Edwards-LaFontaine connection worked, and I was rewarded. I was presented with a multigenerational fly rod that had seen better days. When life happens, some items are pushed aside, stored or forgotten about. This fly rod spent many years in a wet basement. This relic was handed down over the years, and those memories were reinforced when my client found it after cleaning out a home. When I got the rod in my shop and disassembled, I had doubts about whether it could be salvaged. But through a lot of hard work, I was able to get it back in working order. With little effort, this smooth, progressive rod threw a line a country mile. When presented with this restored precision tool, the look on my client’s face was worth all of the effort.  Lathe tailstocks suffer from backlash, as do family members after political discussions on Thanksgiving. In the machining context, this occurs when engaging the tailstock hand wheel in one direction, stopping, and reengaging the hand wheel in the opposite direction. This results in a lack of accuracy when reading the total net measurement from the analog numbers affixed to the tailstock spindle. Essentially, there is a void in the tailstock mechanisms that is not reflected when reading the measurement. "Play" prevents accurate measurement. This is a very common problem in many areas of machining. This problem can be minimized by making manual adjustments, but it cannot be fully eliminated through these adjustments. One solution is to install a digital readout (DRO) to track the net travel in both directions. Another solution is to machine a tailstock travel accuracy jig, to be used in conjunction with a dial indicator. Below is the way I made such a jig. Lathe tailstock accuracy is critical for many bamboo rod making tasks, especially when machining metal ferrules from raw bar stock. The use of such jigs, while drilling and reaming, will allow accurate repeatability and save time. Here is my process: (1) I measured the diameter of the tailstock spindle. (2) After securing a scrap piece of aluminum, I milled it flat on all sides. The aluminum was supported with machining parallels. Then, I chamfered all edges and made a consistent finish with 80 and 500 grit sandpapers. (3) The next step involved preparing the stock and measuring for the tailstock spindle hole. I planned to have the tailstock spindle hole on one side of the jig but centered. Further, I made sure to leave about 0.5" of solid stock from the end of the hole to the end of the jig. My goal was to eventually drill and tap through this 0.5" section of stock so that it would accept a hex cap screw. This will be discussed in more detail below. The photo on the left represents the starting point and the photo on the right represents the finished product in this next step. (4) I supported the jig with machining parallels and made sure that the jig had unobstructed clearance (top, bottom, sides) to cut the entire 1.25"-ish hole. With plenty of lubricant (AlumTap or oil for cutting), I used a center to make the preliminary shallow hole to accept the first drill bit. Then, starting with a small drill bit, I made a hole through the jig. Thereafter, I used progressively larger drill bits, and eventually larger end mills. (5) Without an end mill measuring 1.25", I moved to a boring bar and a manual offset boring head. I incrementally and slowly adjusted the offset boring head outward to make a progressively larger hole. Measuring often, I stopped cutting when my hole reached 1.25"-ish. (6) I tested the fit on the tailstock and achieve my goal of a snug fit. (7) Back at the mill, I secure the jig sideways in the milling vise. On the side of the jig with the hole, I left about 0.5" of solid stock from the end of the hole to the end of the jig. Making sure I had drilling clearance below the jig, I used a center to make a shallow centered hole. Using progressively larger drill bits, and ending with a #7, I drilled through the jig. (8) I tapped through this #7 hole using a 1/4-20 tap. (The picture on the right is the direction I tapped. The picture on the left is just to illustrate the process.) I tapped about 75% through the hole. The tapping process was started on the mill for proper support, rotating the head by hand. Thereafter, I finished tapping by hand. (9) On the side where the tap commenced, I used a 1/4" drill bit to drill just over 50% through the hole. My goal was to remove the tapped thread through the first half of the jig, just over the midway point. A simple piece of painter's tape can be used as a depth guide. (10) With a metal bandsaw, I cut through the midpoint at the bottom of the jig into the tailstock hole. I placed a hex screw with a 1/4-20 thread into the side of the hole where the thread was removed. The screw freely slid into the hole, stopping around the mid-point. Thereafter, I was able to tighten the screw, allowing it to catch the remaining thread after the mid-point. (11) It fit snugly and securely. Any slack was taken up by tightening the hex screw. (12) I attached a dial indicator with a 2" travel to a Mighty Mag Magnetic Base. I then attached the base to the top of my tailstock, retracting the dial indicator and making contact with the jig. Now, I can accurately track the net travel of my tailstock. For reasons not fully understood by me, I can go on and on applauding the virtues of bamboo fly rods. Ask me about bamboo rod building history, techniques and tapers, and that conversation can go on indefinitely. I had the wonderful opportunity to speak to Project Healing Waters about CT bamboo rod making history and constructing rods from raw stock. Unfortunately, connectivity issues prevented me from projecting my presentation on a screen. So, I had to improvise, something bamboo rod builders do often.  I had a wonderful time at the annual Connecticut Fly Fisherman’s Association’s Exposition. It was nice to catchup with friends and present my bamboo rods to the local fly fishing community. On hand I had a 6’ 3wt hex, a 6’6” 4wt penta, and a 8’ 5wt hex. I truly appreciated all of the abundant interest and questions. After 6+ hours of talking and engaging, I was exhausted! It was great to have my friend and master toolmaker Art Leclair at my table as company.  We often lament the time of reconning when we step on the scale at the doctor’s office. Bamboo fly rods are no different. Assigning a line weight may be a bit too personal. At the 2023 Catskill Rodmaker’s Gathering, noted fly fishing historian, John Shaner, suggested that makers may want to consider leaving the line weight notation off of their bamboo rods. Rather, Shaner went on to recommend that a given line weight is best determined by the end user. Shaner concluded that line weight notations are just a suggestion.  I am blessed to have many things in life, one on of which is my casting area. Exiting the back door of my shop, it is surrounded by woods and a stone all. It is long and reminiscent of a meandering stream, providing the perfect attributes to test cast bamboo fly rods. It is a great place to spend time and to allow a given rod to provide valuable feedback as to its performance characteristics. When test casting, I experiment with a variety of line weights and reels. More than once I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the results. Noted fly fishing author, Dave Hughes, has recommended a good way to slow a rod down is to simply go up a line weight. This is wonderful advice. With the variability of fly lines on the market, it is virtually impossible for a 4 weight rod to perform the same with any 4 weight line. But to Hughes’ point, one may also choose to take an active role in a rod’s performance. I’ve certainly done this in my own fishing. One of my main fishing rods has been a 7’ for a 4 weight. It is a medium action rod that gracefully places a 4 weight double taper line on the surface of my tailwater when targeting selective browns. However, when on my canopy laden small streams, I find the action a bit slow and a need for tighter loops. Thus, I fish it with a 3 weight double taper line on such small streams, and its progressive taper is a small stream dream. I recently completed three new rods: 6’ 3wt; 6’6” 4wt; and 8’ 5wt. I test casted all with multiple line weights. I executed short casts, long casts and roll casts. I was utterly confused because I found myself thinking deeply about all kinds of different fishing applications with each rod. While I noted line weights on each rod, I came to realize those notations were truly…just a suggestion.
The good folks at Fox 61 CT profiled my bamboo fly rod building. Thanks Jim and Sean! Click HERE for the article. The video is below. I think it is fair to say that fly fishing with bamboo and building bamboo fly rods are paths less traveled. For those of us who gravitate toward such paths, we often find meaning in places others ignore, especially in a world where immediacy and excess are rewarded. My December was defined by the “path less traveled.” Fly fishing both a first-rate tailwater and abundant small streams, I’m fortunate to have options. High flows plagued my tailwater, and as such, I found myself finishing off the year fly fishing some great small streams. One of my favorite aspects of small stream fishing is never knowing where you will end up. December was marked with exploration, as I ventured up named small streams to unnamed first- and second-order tributaries. A fun time being embedded deep in nature. On the building side of things, I commenced work on a less common rod type: a five-sided or “penta” rod. I really like pentas. They are unique and often misunderstood. They require less glue, flex in the cane as opposed to in a glue line, and can bring about some additional power. I also very much like the look of spiral node staggering on an aggressively flamed rod. It can be hypnotic. Of course, it really comes down to the taper, not the number of strips. This particular rod is being designed as a “tailwater” rod, capable of delicate presentations to selective wild trout, but with sufficient backbone to handle a multitude of conditions. A possible resolution for the new year: Consider taking the long way home. It may be filled with wonderful surprises.
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