A 9″ hand forged blade mounted in an elk handle with iron guard and pommel.
Leather sheath created by Dave Lougheed.
This was a commission piece for a fellow Creston valley resident. She wanted a hunting style knife with an antler handle for her husband, engraved with the words “Irish” and “Wrath” as a testament to his heritage. Otherwise the design details were left up to me.
The knife design was based on a outdoor survival book I picked up a few years ago called “Bushcraft – Outdoor Skills and Wilderness Survival” by Mors Kochanski. Accordingly, I asked the client and her husband to stop by so I could measure his palm width, and both the handle and blade length were created to suit (being 4 1/2″ long for each).
Kochanski advises that the spine of the blade be flat or slightly dropped at the tip, and I decided to use a tanto kata that was generously given to me by Dave J Friesen of Crossed Heart Forge to help me shape the profile of the blade. Since the handle was made from an elk antler (also from Dave), I decided on a rat tail tang with a flat iron pommel so that I could rivet the knife together.
The knife was forged from an old carriage spring dating back to the 1800s, using a charcoal forge and Japanese fuigo bellows. I have finally started making my own charcoal so I’m proud to say that this knife was forged using fuel I made earlier in the year.
I chose to use yaki-ire to temper the blade, and the hamon can be seen from the hardening process. This is more thoroughly explained on the Elk Knife Process page.
Scrap 1/8″ plate steel with a hammered pebble texture form the guard and pommel. They were left just slightly oversized to the elk handle, and handle itself has had nothing done to it.
The farrier who stops by our little homestead every now and then to tend to our Norwegian Fjord was kind enough to supply us with rasps that are too worn done for the work she does. In trade, we forged this belt buckle for her from one of the rasps she gave us.
I used a angle grinder to cut the rasp in half and forged it oval-like, and put in grooves as one would see on an actual horseshoe. This was all made to the farrier’s criteria but she left the creative details up to me.
Rasps are made of a steel that has a higher amount of carbon in it. That can make welding a tricky thing. Luckily I know an experienced welder who managed that part of it. Just to be extra careful, I tempered the buckle after welding to remove any stresses that might have been in the welds. Best to have relaxed steel if it’s allowed.
Turning scrap into functional art is what we love to do best.
This was a custom order from Ragnar the Trader, a long time customer and friend of the forge. It’s made from reclaimed spring steel, hand polished with diamond stones and it makes its home in a hand sewn leather sheath embossed with a Viking dragon.
The dagger is forged from a single piece of spring steel. The blade was hardened using the traditional yaki-ire process, where a clay slip is applied to the blade so that hardening is localized to the edges. After tempering, the edge is approximately rated to hardness of 55-60 HRC using a set of Japanese hardness testing files.
The handle is shaped for comfort and a sure grip. The handle wrap is tanned leather lace.
The sheath is made from vegetable tanned leather, 8 oz weight, hand dyed and embossed with a Viking dragon motif.
A simple belt loop keeps the dagger and sheath in place.
We do custom work all the time. Go to our contact page and tell us about your idea.
A neighbour and friend of the forge recently commissioned a coat rack from us, and we took their idea and made it our own. Instead of using any welds, the entire piece uses traditional blacksmith joinery techniques.
The finish for the coat rack and shelf unit was a bit of polishing with a wire brush, heating the steel to a “black heat” for a uniform colour, and an application of beeswax and linseed oil.
The scroll arms on either side were forged from this old piece of scrap that came from an old homestead on the other side of our little valley.
Bradding, or riveting as its referred to nowadays, was the technique used to attach all the separate pieces into one. A countersink was drilled in places where a rivet head standing proud of the surface would have interfered with function. Lorinda and I worked as a team to assemble all the parts together
This summer, we forged a custom broadfork for the local farmers at Cartwheel Farm. We’ve been receiving a CSA from Cartwheel for the past three years, and always appreciate their array of organic vegetables throughout the summer. This dedicated little farm is now working to set up greenhouses that will enable them to grow throughout the year; year-round produce is their end goal. Cartwheel Farm is a family operated farm, run by husband and wife duo, Laura and Nigel Francis, who strive to bring healthy food to their community and enhance vibrancy to the land they work with. They provide thoughtfully written newsletters with the deliveries, which include recipes and tidbits such as how to utilize more of the vegetables provided, as well as updates on their gardens and practices. It was from these letters that I learned that I could use carrot tops in my cooking, and I appreciate the recipes and suggestions for the veggies provided. A little inspiration is always good! A big thank you to Cartwheel Farm for what they do, and the nutritious food they provide to us and our community.
We try our best to support small-scale farmers, as we believe this is one part to maintaining food health and security around us. The huge mono-crop farms run precariously, with their resource use and dependency on many fertilizers and chemicals, and don’t tend to support the health of the land they take from. It feels better to buy from someone who we know is actively engaged in promoting the health of the soil, air, and ultimately the community and environment around them.
And it feels good to create tools that we believe will also add to the health of the land, and symbiotically, the health of those who use them as well. I personally have felt the tremors in my body after running a rototiller for over an hour to till a garden bed, and it was not a pleasant experience. Compared to using a broadfork where you are working in the peace and quiet of the natural surroundings, and in rhythm with your own body, it brings that part of gardening to a whole new experience. Less worms and soil health are destroyed in the process of hand-tilling, and worm health is a key factor in promoting rich soil, with their contribution of tilling (tunneling) and providing one of the best fertilizers around with their poop. Working with a hand-tool also encourages you to reach down and check the soil with your hands, connecting with the microbes in the soil. Another bonus is that it’s a good work-out, and the tool is designed to work in a way where you let the weight of it sink the tines into the soil, rather than having to drive it down. No resources are consumed with the use of hand-tools either.
I believe in the inter-connection of all living beings, and that our intention affects so many things around us. Holding intention for building soil health to grow nutritious food as I work in a less-damaging and resource-consuming manner goes a long way to connecting me to gratitude and abundance, and even staying more present in the moment.
We’re happy to be providing this tool to a farm that shares this love of working with the natural ecology, and with the intention of enhancing the health of the soil. And we hope all of our broadfork customers enjoy using this versatile tool. Not only is it good for preparing garden beds and weeding, but it also works well for harvesting root veggies, and turning soil with compost and mulch after the gardening season. These tools, like all of our products, come with a life-time warranty because we build them to last for generations to come.
For those who live in the Creston area, we have this tool for sale at the Morris Flowers greenhouse, and in Nelson at Ellison’s Greenhouse. They can also be ordered via our website, and customized if needed.
I had the honour of hand crafting a hori hori for my neighbour to give as an anniversary gift. Since our forge is small scale, it’s agile and adaptable, and well suited to custom projects such as this one. Details such as having a heart stamped in both blade and sheath to make the knife truly unique, and making the sheath and serrations to match the needs of its owner, aren’t typically found with factory produced goods. Neither do my wife and I wish to compete against machines; it’s a losing battle every time. Instead we aim to provide an alternative: handmade, slowcrafted goods forged from reclaimed and recycled materials.
This hori hori was forged from reclaimed 1/4″ thick leaf spring, quenched in heated canola oil and tempered to approximately 50 to 55 HRC. The softer temper guards against breaking, and sharpening with a file much easier.
Detail of the matching heart stamp on blade and sheath. The heart stamp was a custom request from the customer.
Reclaimed hardwood slabs (most likely walnut) are pinned and epoxied to the tang. The tang is heat treated to prevent bending.
The serrations are hand filed with a chainsaw file, running four inches along one side of the blade. The teeth are on the top side of the blade for a right handed user, and would be on the opposite side for a left handed gardener.
The veg-tanned leather sheath is hand dyed and riveted with copper. The cross draw design of the sheath allows for easy access to the knife even when kneeling down, which is common for gardeners and foragers alike.
Blacksmithing can be a lonely craft. Thankfully, I have my wife to keep me company in the shop to help with striking, designing awesome driftwood and iron pieces and generally being a great support in our endeavours. This past weekend was the first Kootenay Blacksmith Association meeting that was held since before the covid pandemic hit the world, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it.
This spring, the KBA invited a bladesmith, Troy Flanders of Flanders Forge, to speak to the crowd. What a source of information, and he barely scratched the surface of the bladesmithing craft. Regardless, I learned much from him and also got some useful tips on improving my forging techniques from a fellow member. I’m currently finishing up a hori hori for a customer, putting what I learned into practice and I can honestly say this is the best hori I’ve made yet.
I’ve been a professional blacksmith for over five years now, so I figure I know quite a bit about hammering steel and all the other accompanying skills that go with it. However, in order for me to learn anything from other ‘smiths I have to do two things: swallow my pride and listen. There is a vulnerability that comes with that because I have to admit to myself that I don’t know everything, that there are others who are better at this stuff than I am, and the only way I can learn is by admitting that to myself and to others.
Thankfully, the KBA members are gracious and helpful folks (despite the stereotype of blacksmiths being ornery and secretive), and if you’re willing to be quiet and pay attention to what the older generation of craftsmen are saying, you might just learn a thing or two. If you’d like to keep up with the happenings of the Kootenay Blacksmith’s Association, go to their contact page to become a member: https://kootenay-blacksmiths.ca/contact-us/
The past couple of years have certainly been a struggle as we made a major transition moving to a new province, searching for a suitable (and affordable) property to set up our homestead and shop, coping with the challenges that were brought forward by the pandemic, and trying to maintain our sanity in a world that seemed to be even less based on reason than before. When our family relocated to British Columbia, Tim and I had initially planned to each launch our own businesses in our town, with Tim’s focus on Reforged Ironworks and mine on creating an artistic, herbal apothecary of sorts. We completed a business course to hone our business ideas and get more established in our new environment. The class ended just at the beginning of the pandemic, and as we prepared to launch our businesses in our new community, the world went into lock down. My business folded as retail and markets were shut down yet, surprisingly to us, Reforged Ironwork’s online sales surged higher. I stepped away from my business to help Tim keep up with the demand for fire pokers and garden tools, and have been helping in the forge ever since.
We have also intentionally chosen to slow down our pace of life as we increasingly feel the pressure to speed up, make quicker decisions and take on more and more (while simultaneously being encouraged by our culture to take advantage of more and more conveniences-which in turn have us doing less and less for our own health and wellness and are arguably not sustainable ‘solutions’). Turning against the tide so to speak has been a challenge. But the more we let go of the narratives of our times, the more we realize that we had been pulled out of alignment with many of our values by those societal mantras. For example, the term sustainable is thrown around consistently these days as a measure that we need to strive for, yet it doesn’t seem that many stop to consider if their own lifestyles could be deemed as sustainable. Diversity, consent and respect are other key terms of our times, but I personally cannot say that I have seen the meaning behind these words well portrayed in the past few years.
As our sales increased, both Tim and I realized how difficult it is for those who make their work by hand to keep up with increasing demands. While our family felt an immense amount of gratitude for being able to do what we love for a living, and have it sustain us financially, we also realized the limitations that we faced (physical and mental). This has been a humbling experience in so many ways- for myself, I have had to learn a trade that requires much skill, strength and consideration to detail which I found myself fumbling to pick up as I worked alongside my husband in the shop. Luckily, Tim is a wonderful teacher, and I say with confidence that if he can train me to blacksmith, he can likely help anyone learn this craft. My skills with a hammer in the beginning were amateur at best. Tim was starting to offer lessons while we were still in Alberta and he had an increasing amount of interest, but for the past two years hasn’t been able to offer this part of our business. We have also both experienced the physical limitations that our bodies will allow with repetitive, strenuous work. And with this experience, we can understand the shift to machine-made, mass produced items that often come from other countries due to lower labor costs. But we choose not to move in that direction ourselves, as we believe that with those gains in quantity, there is significant loss in quality, workmanship, the art of the craft, sustainability, choice of materials, etc.
If you have purchased an item from us, I want to say thank you for supporting our small, slow-craft family business. And I want to say an extra thank you for those who have been our customers and been understanding of the constraints that making a product from scratch and as an art entail. This has been a difficult journey, sometimes we’ve felt as though we were taking a dive into an abyss of uncertainty, but because of people who support what we do, this art and process has been able to survive and flourish. Thank you for helping to sustain the craft of hand-forged products.
It’s useful on occasion to revisit one’s earlier work. The two photos above contrast the results of my ‘smithing over a six year period. The first picture is my latest hori hori creation, forged from an old railroad spike, hardened, sharpened and finished with walnut handle slabs. The second photo is a set of hori hori that I made for the Nikka Yuko Japanese Gardens in Lethbridge, AB. It was a great learning experience for me, and looking at the older photo now I can see both how my design has changed over time, and how my ‘smithing has changed.
The big, iron block is a 250 lb. Japanese pattern anvil I purchased from my friend and mentor, Dave J Friesen of Crossed Heart Forge. Using that, and an eight pound hammer, has really increased my efficiency. There’s quite a bit of material to move in the spike. It’s a mid carbon steel so it’s not as tough as spring steel, but it starts out at 5/8″ thick, and I forge that down to 5/32″ at the hilt of the blade with a slight thickness taper to the point. Two holes are drilled in the handle for steel pins to secure the handle slabs.
The serrations have seen some modification over the years, too. For the Nikka Yuko hori hori, I used a half round file but it seemed to me the teeth were too shallow and didn’t saw very well. I then switched to a small chainsaw file for the knives made from coil spring, and that worked ok but I think the teeth were a bit small. The serrations, according to my research and personal experience, are designed to saw through woody materials such as thick roots and small branches. The latest iteration uses a large chainsaw file for deeper teeth which should make for quicker cutting and sharpening (less teeth to sharpen).
The scooped blade is formed by forging into a shallow piece of pipe, cut in half. The first railroad hori hori knives had a very slight scoop by forging with a round peen along the length of the blade. I leave the scale from forging on the blade as it inhibits rust, and it wears off over time anyhow because of digging in the soil.
The blade and handle are hardened in room temperature vegetable oil. This gives a hardness a bit below an axe, and allows for quick field dressing with a bastard file and chainsaw file if needed. There’s no need to make the edge razor sharp as the first stab into soil acts like sandpaper. The balance between hardness and toughness is important; it’s hard enough so that sharpening isn’t required too frequently, while remaining tough so the knife doesn’t snap when prying a plant out of the ground.
The handle is a simple affair: two slabs of walnut, or whatever scrap hardwood I have lying about, pinned with two steel rivets. A woodworking tool that I love to use ever since Dave J showed me is the Japanese saw file. It works quickly and leaves a finish that needs only light sanding to smooth out. The bevels on the handle are formed with that saw file. A coating of linseed oil seals and protects the wood.
After discussing the sheath design with my wife and striker, Lorinda, I decided to try a cross carry instead of the traditional wooden sheath or vertical sheath that’s common with factory models. The cross carry keeps the handle out of the way when bending over or kneeling, which is a very common stance in the garden. The vertical carry can make drawing the knife a bit awkward, and these knives are easily misplaced if not kept near at hand. This is an experiment at this point, but I really like how it came together.
The leather sheath is fitted to the scooped blade to ensure a snug fit while preventing the edges from slicing up the inside of the sheath. Copper rivets secure the belt loop and the sheath itself. I thought about using copper rivets on the handle, too, but decided on steel for the extra strength they provide.
I look now at the requirements for a good hori hori knife and I realize I picked a really hard tool to start with. Back in 2016 I had only been a hobby smith for about a year. The hori hori has a difficult blade shape, two sharpened edges, and needs just the right balance of hardness and toughness. I ruined a good number of promising knives when they warped after quenching and tried bending them back. Pretty sure the neighbours heard my dismay when the blade went <snap>! Other times I would spend an hour or more heating up a warped blade, forging it straight, normalizing it and quenching once again… only to have it warp again. Thankfully, I can say that no one who has purchased one my knives have had them break or bend, which is a common complaint about the factory models.
I’m looking at trying my hand at other hand tools, now that I have a good number of years of experience under my belt. Wood carving knives, draw knives and broad axes are next. Hopefully I can make at least one of each this year and see where that takes me.
We make broad forks, and many of them each year. Sometimes a client will ask if we can make the handles out of metal instead of wood, in the hopes that they can avoid breaking a handle if too much force is applied to the tool. Some believe that a breakable handle is a design flaw, but our decision to use wooden handles for all of our tools is a deliberate feature. Today I’m going to share our reasoning for that decision.
Wooden handles are lighter.
An average 4′ ash handle with 1.5″ diameter comes in at about 1.5 pounds in weight. The same length of schedule 40 black pipe with an outside diameter of about 1″ weighs 4.5 lbs! Two handles per broad fork means we’ve just added an extra 6 lbs of weight to a 12 lb tool, increasing its weight by 50%. Heavy tools are harder to use and bring on exhaustion that much faster.
Wooden handles are more comfortable.
Ever held a piece of metal pipe or rod in the cold? It’s not pleasant. The conductivity of heat in steel is a lot higher than compared to wood. That means cold, stiff hands when working in inclement weather. The inverse is true when working in the sun. Steel soaks up all that heat, again making the handle comfortable. Metal handles feel awful in wet, cold, sunny or hot weather which pretty much means all the time. No thanks!
Wooden handles are easily replaced.
There’s a reason why hardware stores stock wooden handles. They break with age, but more often break from misuse. Thankfully, a broken handle is not especially difficult to fix. Almost anyone with simple tools can replace a handle at home. As a matter of deliberate choice, we’ve designed our broad forks to use standard 4′ Garant brand shovel handles. These are stocked in many hardware stores and they take about ten or fifteen minutes to adapt to the fork’s steel socket.
This quality is the main argument for metal handles: they never break and never need to be replaced! But this must be weighed against the considerations above and against this last consideration which is that
Wooden handles reduce the chance of breaking the tool.
I’m not sure why it happens to be the case, and perhaps it’s always been this way, but it seems that it’s ok to push a tool to its breaking point time and time again until it finally breaks. Our modern throwaway culture certainly encourages a wasteful attitude, even when it comes to tools that could last many long years if they are treated with respect. In any case, when a tool is pushed beyond its limits a wooden handle, being the “weakest” part of the tool, means that it’s also the most likely part to break. This is a good thing.
Imagine a broad fork with metal handles. The tines are now the weakest part of the tool, and since the attitude of pushing a tool until it breaks is still firmly in place, that means it’s very likely that a tine will bend or snap off. Which is easier to repair: a wooden handle that can be picked up at the hardware store, or a piece of steel that needs welding equipment and expertise?
I hope that sharing our design considerations helps future customers, gardeners and tool enthusiasts alike realize that there are advantages when it comes to using wooden handles rather than their metal counterparts. A gentler attitude towards tool use, and perhaps work in general, may be of benefit as well. Hand tools speak to us through our use of them. It takes a sensitive “ear” to hear that communication, when we’re starting to push a tool too far. Next time you’re out in the garden or the workshop, slow down a little and see if you can “hear” what your hand tool is trying to tell you. It just might save you a trip to the hardware store.