Nebraska Fish and Game Association - Blogs - Chad: Making my 1st Bamboo Fly Rod by Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blog.php Nebraska Fish and Game Association en Sat, 21 Nov 2009 09:38:47 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.nefga.org/forum/images/misc/rss.jpg Nebraska Fish and Game Association - Blogs - Chad: Making my 1st Bamboo Fly Rod by Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blog.php Update: Tuesday, October 6, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/136-update-tuesday-october-6-2009.html Tue, 06 Oct 2009 19:19:36 GMT
“Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.”
- Eugene O'Neill

In this post:
1) Gluing Up

One special note at the outset here: the further along I get in this process, the more indebted I feel to Lee (hexrod on this forum). Lee is a bamboo fly rod maker in Lincoln and his advice and guidance has become essential to me! I’m not sure if Lee still visits the forum, but if so, thanks Lee!!!

So anyway… the variety of glues available in this world is truly mindboggling. A guy could spend weeks just trying to get his mind around all the different kinds of epoxy and still come up short. So by this point in my rod making, I was inclined to dispense with the exhaustive tediousness of glue research and simply pick a proven and trusted glue.

URAC 185 is a modified formaldehyde adhesive and the industry standard in bamboo fly rods for perhaps half a century (with LOTS of exceptions). It is a two-part glue, including a liquid resin and a powder hardener, which I believe contains crushed up walnut shells or some such thing. I conducted several experiments with URAC 185 by laminating strips of bamboo together. At the end of all my experiments I learned that URAC 185 effectively glues bamboo together – go figure. So I moved onto the real deal, and here’s how it went.

To reduce the stress, I only glued up one section at a time. I began by using a razor blade to split open the taped up sections. I would then unroll them so all six strips were still connected on the enamel side to the tape and lying flat next to each other. Then, I used my plane to shave off the apex points of the strips. This was accomplished in just two or three light passes of the plane and was done to help the six strips seat together tightly. I then used a clean tooth brush and compressed air to clean any and all debris from the strips. At this point, I would mix the glue, ready a bucket of warm water (URAC 185 cleans up with warm water), and put on latex gloves. I would then apply glue to the strips with a tooth brush. A couple of passes were required to ensure adequate coverage.

Once the glue was applied, I would drop the tooth brush in the warm water for later clean up, and ready my spool of nylon twine. Here comes the most stressful part of gluing: leaning in close to my strips, I would carefully curl the six strips together at the butt end of the section into their hexagonal shape. As soon as they seated together, I would wrap the tape around to hold them together. Then I would slowly advance down the length of the section, curling and taping all the way to the tip. Once the entire section is rolled up into a messy, glue dripping hexagon, I would use a half-hitch or two to connect the nylon thread at the butt-end of the section and wrap around and around all the way to the tip and then reverse direction and wrap around and around back to the butt, where I would make a loop and secure the thread with another half-hitch or two before cutting it free from the spool.

At this point, I would spend some time ensuring that the section was as straight as possible and not twisted. The best way I have found to do this is to lay the section on a flat surface and roll it back and forth, starting with both hands in the center and slowly moving them toward their respective ends of the section. A few passes like this and my sections were straight and ready to be hung from the rafters to dry for a few days.

After several days of hanging, I got the sections down and removed the nylon thread. It was depressing to see how much dried glue covered the sections. I should have done my best to remove the excess glue before it dried to the outside of the strips. Since I neglected to do this, I had a lot more work to do in sanding off this excess glue. So I went to work sanding each individual face of each strip on each section. A week later, I was glued up, sanded clean, and ready to start figuring out ferrules.

Now admittedly, there are several dozen finer points that I omitted here, so if you’re reading this post today or 10 years from now, drop me a PM and we can talk specifics.

All three sections glued and sanded (most of the 'tools of the trade' are also pictured here)


The butt section glued and sanded
]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/136-update-tuesday-october-6-2009.html Update: Friday, September 4, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/129-update-friday-september-4-2009.html Fri, 04 Sep 2009 19:44:24 GMT In this post:
1) Final Planing

After a long fishing hiatus, I finally returned to making my first bamboo fly rod. I’m pleased to say, I have officially completed final planing and my rod is ready for glue.

I don’t think it’s possible to overstate the importance of final planing in making bamboo fly rods. Final planing is everything. All the work that comes before final planing is mere prologue. Everything that follows is simply epilogue. This IS the art of handcrafting bamboo fly rods. It is difficult, time consuming, and exacting work. And yet in it, there is the slow and peaceful rhythm of curling bamboo. And when done correctly – producing measurements within +/- one thousandth of an inch – there is a great sense of accomplishment.

Now the typical trend in this blog is to discuss and describe the work in great detail, but honestly, my heart just isn’t in it right now. So sufficit to say, the work is done, the angles and dimensions good, and the project on track to produce a rod I will greatly enjoy fishing. Oh, and if you want more info on final planing, PM me. I have a ton of excellent resources.

Here is a single completed strip from the tip section


And, here are the butt and two tip sections, planed and ready for glue

 ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/129-update-friday-september-4-2009.html Update: Wednesday, May 6, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/50-update-wednesday-may-6-2009.html Thu, 07 May 2009 14:31:13 GMT In this post:
1) Experiments in Heat Treating
2) Heat Treating My Sections

1) Experiments in Heat Treating

Once my oven was up and running, I ran several tests with various pieces of scrap bamboo. I wanted to be sure my oven wouldn’t completely ruin bamboo strips and I wanted to better understand changes in the bamboo before and after heat treating. Although the tests were far from scientific, I set them up in that manner.

Null hypothesis: There will be no observable/measurable differences between heat-treated and untreated bamboo strips.

Alternative hypotheses for testing:
1) The strips will be damaged or completely destroyed;
2) The string used to bind the strips will melt or become otherwise troublesome;
3) Straightened and pressed nodes will revert to their naturally crooked and humped shapes;
4) Moisture will be unevenly removed from the strips;
5) Two to three minute cook time differences will produce observable differences in enamel color/tone;
6) Differences in bend and elasticity of the bamboo strips will be produced;
7) Additional, unforeseen, difference will take place in the strips that will be identifiable in subsequent aspects of the rod-making process.

To conduct the tests, I heat treated lots of test strips in the pipe oven for various amounts of time and at various temperatures that ranged from what I gathered was way too little time and heat, to what was about the right amount of time and heat, to what simply had to be way too much time and heat. All and all, it ranged from a few minutes in the oven to nearly 30 minutes and from about 200 to 400 degrees. I bound some of the test strips with string (like the real strips will be) and I left some unbound. I straightened and pressed some of the nodes prior to testing and I left others alone. When I did straighten and press nodes, I monitored how long the strip needed to be heated by the heat gun before it became pliable. On a few of the test strips, I also took a few moments to find the point of equilibrium – that middle(ish) spot where the strip balances end for end since a heat gradient in the oven would extract more moisture from one end, producing a lighter end and a change in the equilibrium point. I also attempted to find the average point at which un-cooked test strips would start to crack and split when bent and compared that to the average point at which cooked strips started to crack and split. Finally, I just fiddled around with cooked and uncooked strips – planed them, bent them, examined their color, sanded them, heated them with the heat gun, froze them in carbonite, pressed them in the vice, waved them about wildly in my basement allowing them to flex hard, and I snapped a couple over my knee for no apparent reason.

A few strips that were sacroficed during tests


A completely unrelated picture of Solo encased in carbonite... he's quite well protected


Here’s what I learned from the tests.
1) The strips were not damaged or completely destroyed by the pipe oven unless cooked excessively (i.e. temperatures approaching and exceeding 400 degrees and times approaching and exceeding 25 minutes);
2) The sting used to bind the strips did not melt or become otherwise troublesome;
3) Straightened and pressed nodes did revert (but not always) to their naturally crooked and humped shapes;
4) Moisture was not unevenly removed from the strips (unless I purposefully worked to create a heat gradient by only heating one half of the pipe);
5) Two to three minute cook-time differences did not produce observable differences in enamel color/tone (even excessive cook-time differences failed to produce observable differences… perhaps due to the already dark flame toning of this rod);
6) Differences in bend and elasticity of the bamboo strips were produced (it’s a bit of an exaggeration but the strips were kind of like Tootsie Rolls before heat treating and more like raw carrot sticks afterward);
7) Additional, unforeseen, difference did take place in the strips that have been identifiable in subsequent aspects of the rod making process (a. re-heating nodes to re-straighten/flatten them takes longer after heat treating and makes them more prone to cracking/splitting, b. planing feels smoother and easier on heat treated strips).

All and all these experiments helped me learn a lot about the process and outcomes of heat treating bamboo. They also served to convince me that my oven was perfectly adequate for the task.

2) Heat Treating My Sections

Once my oven was designed, built and tested, completing this phase of the make was a breeze. I hung the oven, capped the ends, brought the temperature up to 350 degrees, inserted my first bound up section and cooked it until the steam stopped exiting the two small escape holes. I then removed the section, inserted the next section and cooked it up. And finally, section three went into the oven for its turn. All three sections took a similar amount of time to cook, between 12-14 minutes.

After nearly an hour, the aroma of propane and steamed bamboo was thick and intoxicating.


Next time we progress to final planing. :SM_S_cheers2: ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/50-update-wednesday-may-6-2009.html Update: Wednesday, May 6, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/49-update-wednesday-may-6-2009.html Thu, 07 May 2009 14:27:38 GMT In this post:
Building Bamboo Ovens

Partly for the sake of learning, and partly because we were drawn to different oven styles, our upstart rod shop decided to build two ovens. My dad and George would build a heat-gun oven, and I would build a torch oven. Here’s how things went.

A. Building a Heat-Gun Oven
The heat-gun oven built by my dad and George modifies the standard design with a popular alternative. Instead of a vertical oven that efficiently uses rising hot air, the modified design is laid on its side. This is usually done because the ceiling in a rod-maker’s shop is not high enough to allow for a 5’ vertical oven plus an additional 4-5’ of height to insert and extract the rod sections.

A very important change happens when a maker lays a heat-gun oven on its side. The warmed air doesn’t independently rise through the second, bamboo chamber. Instead, it is influenced by the blower on the heat-gun (which isn’t very forceful) and perhaps any structural high pockets in the oven where warm air can sit. This can create hot spots and result in uneven treatment.

To overcome these challenges, the horizontal heat-gun oven is typically designed a bit differently. Instead of one smaller bamboo cylinder inside a larger heating cylinder, one continuous smaller cylinder is constructed, generally in a “U” shape. This facilitates the continuous movement of warm air through the oven, overcoming the problem of heat pockets and uneven heating. Unfortunately, it creates a second problem in that it reduces the maximum temperature the oven can achieve since the bamboo chamber doesn’t benefit from the “twice-baked” standard design (i.e. in the standard design, the warm air that is forced down the heat chamber warms the outside of the stainless steel walls of the bamboo chamber, and then rises back through the interior of the bamboo chamber once it reaches the bottom of the oven). To overcome this second problem of reduced heat potential, horizontal heat-gun ovens need to be insulated to achieve and maintain the 350 degrees required to treat bamboo. Insulation is either applied through the construction of a box in which the oven is inserted or in the same manner described in the element oven above – one heat duct inside another with insulation between.

Below you can see how my dad and George neatly insulated their oven.


With the utmost attention to detail, they then capped the ends to cover that unsightly insulation.


My dad and George also wanted an accurate temperature reading at multiple points in the bamboo chamber, so they drilled holes and inserted two thermometers.


Then, they smartly added four bolts at the end of the heating chamber to securely affix the heat gun.


Finally, they used insulating tape over the two 90 degree elbows to prevent heat loss.


The finished product is an excellent oven with minimal to no heat gradient throughout the bamboo chamber. George challenged me to build a better looking oven, and as you will soon see, I failed!

My dad with their completed heat-gun oven


B. Building a Torch Oven
It took me about one month and 15 minutes to build my bamboo torch oven and it cost me $12 out of pocket. The lengthy building time was primarily due to the fact that most of the materials and tools required for the build were donated to me, and took some time to pick up. Roger (Wirenut) gave me the 6x6 piece of lumber I used to turn my end caps, and Alex T. picked it up for me. George gave me the iron pipe, which he acquired from the railroad during a redesign of a warehouse heating system. And, my dad gave me the wood-turning calipers I needed to turn my end caps. I’m not a complete mooch though. After all, I did supply my own wire clothesline to hand the oven. Oh, and I also bought two thermometers to install in the end caps to give me a temperature reading on the inside of the pipe – that’s where the $12 came in.

Once I had all of the supplies, fabrication was fairly easy. I first used my band saw to cut two, three inch pieces off Roger’s 6x6. I then turned them into tapered plugs with the lathe to fit securely in the ends of the pipe. Once turned, I drilled a hole through the center of the end cap plugs to insert the stem of the thermometers. I then drilled two steam holes in the pipe and hung the whole contraption from the ceiling in my basement.

The tapered plugs with thermometers


The completed torch oven


After a month of research, design, and fabrication, it was complete. Without any bamboo in the pipe, I fired up the torch and had my daughter watch the time. I just wanted to make sure my torch oven would reach and maintain 350 degrees for 15 minutes.

After 10 minutes of playing the fire across the length of the pipe and barely reaching 150 degrees, my daughter began to look pretty bored. After 20 minutes, she asked if it was okay if she went upstairs to watch cartoons, “Sure, hun.” After 30 minutes, I started getting bored. Finally, around the 35 minute mark, I achieve 175 degrees and squarely reasoned that 350 degrees was out of the question.

The oven was a complete failure. I’m not sure if the pipe’s diameter was too large or if the wall thickness was too great, but the thing wasn’t gonna reach 350 degrees without a much bigger torch.

I sat down on the basement floor for a few minutes discouraged. Building a new oven was the last thing I wanted to do. Piecing together the materials would be difficult and time consuming. I was looking at a significant project delay and was pretty bummed.

Then it hit me. I have smaller diameter pipes laying in the yard under the hedges. I ran outside and rummaged through them. I was ecstatic when I found a perfect 5’ section. I took it downstairs and cleaned it up. I then extracted the thermometers from their wooden end caps, pushed them through balls of steel wool, and stuffed the steel wool into the pipe ends as tight-fitting end caps. I took down the old oven and hung the new one. Finally, I drilled two vent holes. In 15 minutes I had a new oven.

To test it, I again fired up the torch and applied the heat. Five minutes later, I was reading 350 degrees on both thermometers, and I was able to maintain that temperature indefinitely.

So how long did it take me to build a working oven? One month and 15 minutes. :D ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/49-update-wednesday-may-6-2009.html Update: Wednesday, May 6, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/48-update-wednesday-may-6-2009.html Thu, 07 May 2009 14:23:41 GMT
Man has been eating God's oats for a thousand years.
It's not the place of an eight-year-old boy to change that tradition.
– Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

In this post:
Understanding Bamboo Heat Treating and Bamboo Ovens

The next stage in making a bamboo fly rod is heat treating the bound up sections. As a very general rule, makers tend to heat treat their bamboo at approximately 350 degrees for about 15 minutes. But before I simply threw my strips in an oven and turned on the heat, I want to understand this aspect of the work a little more fully. What I learned was that heat treating bamboo is a science with a mountain of opinion, but very little scientific foundation. Most makers believe that heat treating is important because it removes excess moisture in the cane, retards moisture reentry, relaxes sweeps in the strips, “reprogramming” them to fit neatly together, makes final planing easier, and crispness the feel of the completed rod. “You can just feel it.”

How scientifically verifiable those beliefs are remains a mystery. In an email to me, noted rod-maker Don Andersen summed up his findings on a series of published bamboo heat treating tests by writing, “Chad, I couldn’t find any reason to heat treat, and [when] others replicated my original tests, they found much the same results.” So I asked Don why everyone continues to heat treat and why they recommend it to new rod makers like me. His answer was simple if not satisfying, “Why do we heat treat? Inertia – it has been done that way for years. Why change? I still do it – no idea why. But some day, someone will stumble on the reason.”

Perhaps that makes heat treating bamboo a religion rather than a science. I don’t know. What I do know is that bamboo makers have been heat treating bamboo for a hundred years. It’s not the place of a first-rod maker to change that tradition. So I set out to learn about and eventually build a bamboo oven.

One of the great things about making bamboo fly rods is the way the cottage industry respects ingenuity. This is never more evident than in the realm of bamboo ovens. The various styles of Bamboo ovens tend to be named after the guys that first designed and built them. So, for example, a maker is said to have built his own Cattanach-style oven. The downside is that oven names aren’t very descriptive and similar ovens may have a plethora of names based on minor (albeit important) modifications. So for our purposes, I’m going to talk about three styles of bamboo ovens that I have grouped and named based on their heat source.

A) The Element Oven. These ovens use an element (such as a mica strip) for their heat source and typically embed the element in a rectangular box built out of heating-duct sheet metal. Most commonly, element ovens employ two rectangular sheet-metal boxes. One is an inch or two smaller in overall dimensions and fits inside the larger one. Insulation is then placed between the two boxes in the 1-2” gap. The best of these ovens have programmable thermostats and two chambers: one chamber – the element chamber – contains the heating element; the other chamber – the bamboo chamber – contains a screen on which the sections of bamboo rest for heat treating. A fan circulates the heated air from the element chamber to the bamboo chamber (i.e. convection). This design eliminates possible hot spots and uneven heat treating.

Properly built element ovens that incorporate convection are probably the surest way to evenly heat treat bamboo in a repeatable fashion – rod after rod. Without question, they are the most complicated and expensive. Here’s what Don had to say about his oven, “[Mine has] two 1500 watt electrical elements, recirculating fan, thermostat control. One element is "direct" drive through a switch with the other using the thermostat to control temperatures. Works like a hot damn. Results are consistent and repeatable. Cost is high. I've got about $1,000 invested in the oven.”

I have included a few pictures below to help readers visualize these ovens and understand just how super fancy they can be.

A fan built specifically to handle heat in excess of 300 degrees


The same fan nested in a heating duct to move heated air from the element chamber to the bamboo chamber


The front view of this same oven (element chamber is on the left and bamboo chamber is on the right)


Here is a different element oven that has only one chamber, but a nice programmable thermostat (Note: the tubes on which the heating element is mounted may be heatsinks designed to more even disperse the thermal energy and eliminate hotspots :xIDunno:)


B) The Heat-Gun Oven. These ovens use heat guns as their heat source, generally blowing the heated air down into a heating-duct cylinder where the warm air then rises back up through a second cylinder that contains the bamboo. These ovens are simple, effective, and inexpensive (perhaps $50 to build, not including the heat gun, which you need anyway for straightening and flattening nodes.) We will build a heat-gun oven in the next section that incorporates a popular modification. In the meantime, here are a couple of pictures of the standard heat-gun oven design.

Full view of a heat-gun oven


Top view of a heat-gun oven with the heat gun inserted in the heat chamber and the bamboo chamber open


C) The Torch Oven. These ovens use a propane torch as their heat source, playing the torch’s fire over the surface of an iron or aluminum pipe. The bamboo is placed inside the pipe and both ends of the pipe are plugged. One or two small holes are drilled in the surface of the pipe to release pressure and give the maker some indication of how the treatment is progressing. This oven is old-school, seems too simplistic, and is not all that popular today. But consider the comments of maker Ralph Moon…

“I simply cannot convert anyone to retrogress in their thinking on heat treating. I see some of the ovens available and I, too, begin to salivate. But the fact remains that if you want repeatable results rod after rod. Results with virtually all of the ambient moisture expelled, uniform color of the cane; no matter what the temperature of the shop may be, no matter what the humidity may be you have to go back to basics. Forget the stainless steel sheet metal, forget the intricate and often costly heating elements, forget the forced air heating, forget programmable thermostats, heat sinks, shielding and flipping end to end, and complex timing formulas. It takes an engineer to do all of those things and I would rather build rods. I explained my technique in Power Fibers, but basically it requires two clothes hangers, five feet of iron pipe, two wooden plugs and a propane torch. Pop the strips in the pipe, pop in the plugs, use the coat hangers to suspend the rod at a decent height, and pass the propane torch back and forth rotating the pipe 1/4 turn after each pass of the torch. The rod is done when the steam exiting from a small hole in the pipe stops and the odor of volatile oils commences. Go no further. You are done. Just remember the smell and you can duplicate the results time after time.”

We will also build one of these ovens in the next section, so you will have to wait for the pictures. ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/48-update-wednesday-may-6-2009.html Update: Thursday, April 23, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/40-update-thursday-april-23-2009.html Thu, 23 Apr 2009 21:04:27 GMT
“Set the hook on the invisible strike.”
- John Gierach (Zen and the Art of Nymph-Fishing)


In this blog: Rough Planing

The first few weeks of open-water bluegill fishing are typically some of the most challenging for me. The bite is often just as light as it was through the ice, but open water means the end of the spring-bobber and the beginning of nymphing. So I fix my gaze on the end of my 4wt floating line and look for subtle cues – Set the hook on the invisible strike!

It just so happened that the start of open-water fishing in the spring of ’09 corresponded with my first attempts at rough planing bamboo strips. The similarities were unmistakable – even if the strikes were not. Like nymph fishing for bluegill at ice out, I found the greatest challenge in rough planing to be recognizing those near-invisible cues that tell you how to tilt the plane, where to take off a few more thousands of an inch, or when to stop. The planing forms, screw gauge, and dial calipers are helpful, but ultimately insufficient. It’s more than science. It’s art.

When a 360 degree culm of bamboo is split into 24 roughly equal strips, the results are uneven angles slightly shy of 90 degrees. These rectangular(ish) strips are then laid in a maker’s 1st Forms, which have a v-groove cut down the center to hold the strips for rough planing. One side of the v-groove is cut at 30 degrees. The other side is cut at 52.5 degrees. The resulting overall angle of the groove is 82.5 degrees and corresponds to the angles in the strips – slightly shy of 90 degrees.

If you look at the bottom face of the forms pictured below, you can clearly see this 82.5 degree angle.



In theory, each strip should fit neatly into the v-groove of the 1st Forms. The enamel side would be pressed up against the 30 degree side and one of the freshly split faces would be pressed up against the 52.5 degree side. The fit would be tight and perfect, and the other freshly split face would be planed off, creating the first 60 degree angle between the enamel face and the newly planed face. After this, the strip would be moved to the maker’s 2nd Forms, which also have a v-groove cut down the center, but this time both sides of the v-groove are an equal 30 degrees – 60 degrees when measured together. The enamel face and the freshly planed face would be seated in the v-groove and the unplanned face would be planed off. The result would be three faces with the exact same width and three angles that all measure 60 degrees – a perfect equilateral triangle.

However, as you can guess from my introduction, there is a HUGE gap between theory and practice. You see, the strips don’t fit the 1st Forms perfectly, so the resulting first angle is not a perfect 60 degrees, nor is it perfectly uniform. Because of this, the strips don’t fit the 2nd Forms perfectly. Once they are planed in the 2nd Form, the resulting three angles are not perfect 60 degree angles, nor are they perfectly uniform.

To correct these imperfections, the maker closely and painstakingly checks and measures every inch of every face of every strip. He may find three or four inches of a strip here and there that are 40 or 50 or 60 thousands of an inch fat. He is also likely to find three or four inches of the same strip on another face or another portion of the strip that are dangerously close to being too thin. Of course fat or thin spots on the faces of the strips mean resulting angles that are greater or less than 60 degrees. The maker planes more bamboo off the fat spots, tries to avoid the thin spots, tilts his plane to the right or to the left in the spots that have angles greater or less than 60 degrees, checks and measures and rechecks and re-measures, and more than anything, tries to become a bamboo artist.

So, that’s how I spent my early mornings and late nights during the ice-out season of 2009. In the end, I think I was markedly slower and more perfectionistic than needed. It took me approximately one hour to rough plane each strip. But then one night, I was finally finished. Eighteen strips had been planed – not perfectly but close enough, and better at the end than in the beginning. The butt strips and both sets of tip strips were fitted together and hand bound first with masking tape and then with 16-gauge-cotton thread, ready for heat treating. The whole of my first go 'round with rough planing was very enjoyable - there is just something about curling off a long smooth shaving of bamboo. And the end product has me hopeful that a successful first rod is within reason.





To celebrate completion of this stage, I slipped out the following day for a little ice-out bluegill nymphing, but that was finished too. Instead of a tiny cue and a finesse hook set, a bass put a bend in the cane of my Southbend Tonka Prince before I could even set the hook. Things are about to heat up. ;)



Next time: building bamboo ovens and experiments in heat treating. ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/40-update-thursday-april-23-2009.html Update: Tuesday, April 07, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/27-update-tuesday-april-07-2009.html Wed, 08 Apr 2009 01:19:44 GMT
“I was going to thrash them within an inch of their lives, but I didn't have a tape measure”

- Groucho Marx

So I misspoke. Before we start planing, we need to talk about measuring. Rod dimensions are typically measured down to one thousandth of an inch, and beginning makers are encouraged to strive for an accuracy of +/- .002".

Three tools are critical to the maker here: 1) calipers; 2) a machinist’s screw gauge (also known as a center gauge); and, 3) a depth gauge with 60* point and base. Some readers may be well familiar with these tools, but I will describe each briefly for those who are not.

As a general rule, I have found that the tools needed for bamboo rod making are often available through manufacturers or online retailers, but seldom found on the shelves at local hardware stores. What’s more, they are not typically all that expensive. However, it does take a bit of research as a new maker to understand exactly what you need in a tool, and then additional time surfing the internet to find a tool that meets those specifications. Of course all that time can be saved by going directly to a website dedicated to bamboo rod making. The problem with doing that is a HUGE price markup. I will illustrate these significant markups below.

1) Calipers. I wasn’t able to find calipers locally that met the demands of rod making, so I ordered them through Grizzly. I was very pleased with Grizzly’s products, customer service and pricing. I ultimately ordered a 4” dial caliper with .001” gradients and accuracy of + / - .001". It is a sweet little dial caliper: hardened knife edges; inside and outside calipers; step gauge; knurled thumb roll; stainless steel construction; Shock proof and dust proof; fitted case.



I paid $11.95 for the Grizzly caliper. If you go through a prominent bamboo-rod-making site, you will pay $74.95 for a comparable caliper. By the way, I found the same caliper that the bamboo site sells offered through several other non-bamboo sites retailing for around $35.00 – still a bit over priced though if you ask me. ;)

2) Center Gauge. A center gauge is typically used to determine the number of threads per inch for American Standard or US 60* threads. The gauge is constructed of hardened steel and includes three exact 60* angles in various sizes. Center Gauges are the fastest way to determine if the angles a maker is planing into his strips of bamboo are a precise 60*. Simply fit the bamboo strip into one of the 60* angles on the gauge and eyeball it for fit.

Center Gauges are not expensive. You can find them for under $10.00. Here again, if you buy through a bamboo site expect a markup of close to 100% over standard retail price.



3) Depth Gauge with 60* Point and Base. This one is a little tricky if you need to control cost like me. If you have the money to spend, it is pretty simple to order the whole shootin’ match direct from a bamboo-specific site. One site is asking $120.00, and the setup might look a little flimsy; another is asking – get this –$364.95. I made mine and spent $35.95. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

First, why does a maker need this tool? A depth gauge is used by a maker to set the correct depth on planing forms (for a discussion on planing forms, see my first post or blog entry). Depth gauges are readily available and don’t need to be (but can be) expensive. I purchased mine through Grizzly and got another high quality product with great customer service and a fair price. It has .001” graduations and 1” total travel. Accuracy is + / - .001". Cost was $12.95.



Second, why does a maker need a 60* point on his depth gauge? Planing forms are constructed of two pieces of stock (wood or metal) that are bolted together. Both pieces of stock contain a 30* angle in the face where they meet. When fitted together, they create a 60* angle. Since the depth gauge will be measuring the depth of this 60* angle to an accuracy of .001”, the depth gauge needs to seat into the forms perfectly.

Sixty degree points are not particularly expensive, but they are a little tricky to find and you need to make sure you get a precise 60* point (supposedly some are close, but not exact). The point I have retails for about $3.00. Again, if you prefer, you can buy them through a bamboo site for around $16.00.



Third, why does a maker need a base for his depth gauge? A base creates a way to set the depth gauge on top the forms and allow the stem to protrude through the base into the 60* angle in the planing forms. A base then permits accurate, repeatable, and hands-free measurements.

Bases suitable for rod making are not commercially available. Makers have two options: pay dearly and purchase through a bamboo site or make their own. I elected to make my own. The first step was to find a suitable piece of stock. The most common materials are wood, aluminum or copper. I chose copper because I knew its weight would keep the spring in the stem of the depth gauge compressed, allowing hands-free use. If the maker selects a stock that is too light, he will need to manually press the depth gauge base against the forms to get accurate, repeatable measurements. Plus, if he removes his hand from the gauge, the spring in the stem will push up and topple the gauge off his forms, likely damaging a critical piece of equipment.

I found a manufacturer in the Omaha area (Tri-V Tool & Mfg. Co.) who was able to hook me up with a chunk of copper at cost – $20.00 (Tri-V was also kind enough to throw in a chunk of aluminum, which will make a nice second base someday). The copper chunk is 1 ½” wide x 1 ½” deep x 2 ½” long.



Using my drill press, I first drilled a ¼” hole through the stock – top to bottom. I then drilled a 3/8” hole right on top of the first hole (essentially enlarging the first hole) halfway through the stock. The stationary portion of the stem on the depth gauge is 3/8” creating a nice friction fit in the stock. The spring-loaded portion of the stem is thinner and fits into and through the remaining ¼” hole drilled in the stock.



Once the holes were drilled, I sanded the base to ensure a perfectly flat surface. To complete the project, I used Gorilla Glue to permanently secure the depth gauge in its copper base.

My depth gauge with 60* point and base turned out to be a solid and highly accurate device. It’s a silly little thing to own and even sillier to be proud of it, but if there were a fire in my house, it would be pretty high on the list of things I would grab… probably just before the dog… okay, fine… after the dog, but right after the dog.

]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/27-update-tuesday-april-07-2009.html Update: Tuesday, March 31, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/13-update-tuesday-march-31-2009.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:28:39 GMT “Like most things in rod making, there is no right way [although there is a pile of wrong ones - I know - I traveled that path - a lot]. Rod making is mostly about doing. Figuring out what works for you and produces a rod you're pleased with.”
-Don Andersen
In this post:
1) Planing the Diaphragms
2) Flattening and Straightening the Nodes
3) Preparing for Initial Planing

These three steps are necessary evils. They don’t hold a lot of glamour or make you feel like you are progressing much on your make, but they are critical to later success.

1) Planing the Diaphragms

On the inside or “pith” side of every node is something known as a diaphragm. A more scientific term for a diaphragm would be transverse septum. It is a thin horizontal divider that separates one section of bamboo from the next. Diaphrams (aka Nodal Dams) improve the overall strength of the plant. Naturally, these diaphragms need to be removed if the bamboo strips are going to fit neatly together to form a fly rod.

Removing what remains of the diaphragms is fairly straight forward. Lay the strip on a firm surface with the enamel side facing down and the diaphragm facing up. Take hold of a block plane and use quick short swipes over the selected diaphragm until they have been chipped and hacked away.

Repeat (in my case, 42 times).

Here is a picture of two strips that will eventually be part of my rod. The near strip has the diaphragms removed. The far strip does not.



2) Flattening and Straightening the Nodes

Yet another node task, which was not overly complicated or time intensive, but absolutely necessary.

Despite having relatively straight strips, there are still noticeable “jogs” at each node. Little “S” turns. Some turn right and then bend back left before running straight to the next node. Others do the opposite. Clearly each of the nodes needs to run smooth and straight and be as indistinguishable as possible from any other part of the rod.

In addition to the nodal jogs, there is also an excess of enamel and pith at each node. Much of this enamel and pith has been removed in previous steps, but it is still necessary to flatten (or compress) the strips at the nodes.

To straighten and flatten the nodes, I first acquired a 5’ section of 4” pvc pipe along with two end caps. Then late one night I slipped out of bed, connected a hose to the nearest faucet and quietly filled the pvc pipe with water. Once filled, I inserted my 18 strips of bamboo in the pipe for a good soaking, capped the open end, dried up a few spills, and crawled back into bed.

After a couple days in the soak, the strips were pulled out one by one. Each node was heated – one at a time – over a Wagner Heat Gun with 2” diffuser. While heating a node, I would continually turn the strip to prevent scorching (the soak also helped in this regard) and flex the strip waiting for it to become pliable.

After about 20 seconds of heat (it would have been closer to 90 seconds without the soak), the strip would suddenly lose its “desire” to hold a firm, springy shape. At that instant of pliability, I would remove the node from heat and press it in a flat 3” vice - with the enamel on one face of the vice and the pith on the other side - to flatten the node. After five seconds, I would release the vice, turn the strip 90 degrees (one quarter turn) and press the node side to side to straighten any nodal jogs.

Repeat (in my case, 42 times).

Here is how things look.



3) Preparing for Initial Planing

The most quintessential tool in the bamboo fly rod maker’s cabinet is the Stanley 9 ½ Block Plane. This plane has undergone a few name changes (today it is called the G12-020), but it remains largely unchanged otherwise over the last 100 years. As I have learned (but have yet to post about on this blog) planing strips is so time and labor intensive that all the other steps fade away into a quick blur of prep work. You will spend hours and hours and hours and hours planing strips. Bamboo rod making is really all about the Stanley 9 ½.

It’s a sexy little tool.



As functional as the Stanley 9 ½ is, the demands of bamboo rod making are so precise and so extreme that the stock 9 ½ really isn’t up for the job straight out of the box. The razor sharp blade needs to be removed from the plane and sanded front and back to ensure that it is true. Once true, the maker needs a sharpening system. The system must be precise and repeatable. It is hard to quantify just how many times you will sharpen your blade while making a single rod, but needless to say it is a lot more than a lot. And each and every time, the maker must impart a precise 30* angle on the blade.

I should also mention that many makers spend an additional $40 - $50 for a specialty, high-performance blade. These Hock Blades contain less chromium and therefore hold a sharp longer. For now, I’m using the stock blade, flattened and routinely sharpened.

I’m using a combination 1000/6000 Japanese Water Stone with a honing guide for my sharpening system. I store the stone in a Tupperware container filled with water so it is always ready for use. I sharpen on a piece of 2x2 Plexiglas to prevent water and stone “gunk” from making a mess of my bench during each sharpening session.

It looks a little something like this...



The sole of the Stanley 9 ½ also needs some attention before it is ready to plane bamboo. Although “flat”, it is not “flat enough.” How flat does it need to be? Super flat.

In order to flatten my sole, I used my piece of Plexiglas placed on top of my table saw. I taped on progressively finer sheets of sandpaper and spent a few hours (over a few weeks) taking that sole to task. The immediate scratches that appeared on the sole indicated that sole wasn’t completely flat because the scratches didn’t show up over the entire surface of the sole. I continued sanding until the entire sole showed evidence of contact with the sandpaper. Then I stepped up to a finer paper and worked to polish the finish.

I can tell you my sole is flat now. Super flat. It could use another hour rub on very fine paper to bring it to a mirror finish, but I think I will call it good at this level of “perfection.” At least for now... ;)



Only now is a maker ready to plane. Next blog post gets into the real make.

]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/13-update-tuesday-march-31-2009.html Update: Thursday, March 17, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/12-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:26:55 GMT *Bonus Material – My Second Mistake:* You’ll love this! As I’m working through the process of staggering my nodes on the butt and two tip sections, I run into a problem (not described above ;)) with the tip strips. It has to do with that thin strip I mentioned earlier. As it turns out, I actually find two thin strips. Both are from the top half of the culm - the tip strips. Somehow I missed the second thin strip. :xIDunno: As I look through all of the tip strips, I slowly become more and more confused as I realize that neither of the thin strips walk. They are thin from start to finish. How can that be? I surely started everything even. I know that much. Plus, both of the thin strips should have a corresponding fat strip, but I can’t find those fat strips anywhere. I look and look. I even pull out the dial calipers and start measuring all the strips, but they are all nice, even ¼” strips. The mystery of the two thin strips begins to unfold when I see how nicely they fit together with one another. Then I measure them with the dial calipers. They both read an even 1/8” wide. At this point, I count my 12 tip strips… 13. Somehow, I must have split a final ¼” strip an extra time, producing two 1/8” strips. Wow… how stupid. But, I can’t help but be a little pleased with my mistake. Splitting strips down to the level of 48 per 360* culm is pretty impressive for a bamboo dweeb like me. But what should I do about it? Those two strips might still be workable. I remember Cattanach or Boyd or Malcolm saying that they have tried to split to that level, but that poor results made it less advantageous than beneficial. So yeah, it could work. But those thin strips might also cause me a lot of headaches down the road and end up not working at a late stage in the game. That would completely stink. I’m still not sure what to do. Splitting off two new strips from the unused section means that only 10 strips will remain from that half culm, making it impossible to make another project from that section. Finally, I decide the right thing to do is to set those thin strips aside, pull the untouched half culm tip section out of storage, split off two ¼” strips, and prep their nodes to get them all caught up in the process. I need to do it right. So… we will have to resume this after I get my mistake fixed. Minor bummer. Bonus Material – My Second Mistake:
You’ll love this! As I’m working through the process of staggering my nodes on the butt and two tip sections, I run into a problem (not described above ;)) with the tip strips. It has to do with that thin strip I mentioned earlier. As it turns out, I actually find two thin strips. Both are from the top half of the culm - the tip strips. Somehow I missed the second thin strip. :xIDunno:

As I look through all of the tip strips, I slowly become more and more confused as I realize that neither of the thin strips walk. They are thin from start to finish. How can that be? I surely started everything even. I know that much. Plus, both of the thin strips should have a corresponding fat strip, but I can’t find those fat strips anywhere. I look and look. I even pull out the dial calipers and start measuring all the strips, but they are all nice, even ¼” strips.

The mystery of the two thin strips begins to unfold when I see how nicely they fit together with one another. Then I measure them with the dial calipers. They both read an even 1/8” wide. At this point, I count my 12 tip strips… 13.

Somehow, I must have split a final ¼” strip an extra time, producing two 1/8” strips. Wow… how stupid. But, I can’t help but be a little pleased with my mistake. Splitting strips down to the level of 48 per 360* culm is pretty impressive for a bamboo dweeb like me.

But what should I do about it?

Those two strips might still be workable. I remember Cattanach or Boyd or Malcolm saying that they have tried to split to that level, but that poor results made it less advantageous than beneficial. So yeah, it could work.

But those thin strips might also cause me a lot of headaches down the road and end up not working at a late stage in the game. That would completely stink. I’m still not sure what to do.

Splitting off two new strips from the unused section means that only 10 strips will remain from that half culm, making it impossible to make another project from that section.

Finally, I decide the right thing to do is to set those thin strips aside, pull the untouched half culm tip section out of storage, split off two ¼” strips, and prep their nodes to get them all caught up in the process. I need to do it right.

So… we will have to resume this after I get my mistake fixed.

Minor bummer. ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/12-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Update: Thursday, March 17, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/11-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:25:45 GMT Staggering Nodes

So… more work involving those pesky nodes.

As mentioned earlier, nodes are the weakest part of a fly rod. They are also the most irregular and often the most crooked part of split strips. For these reasons, it is important that a finished rod demonstrate that the maker worked intentionally to place (or stagger) the nodes in strategic and thoughtful positions within the rod. We are interested first in function and second in cosmetics. Keep both of those priorities in mind.

You probably will not need to search very hard to find a production-grade bamboo rod that has two (or more) nodes next to each other on adjacent strips. But, a high-quality rod will never align two nodes on adjacent strips.

Hopefully, most readers understand what I mean when I write about nodes being “next to each other on adjacent strips.” But just to be sure, imagine this:

You are holding the tip section of an expertly-crafted bamboo fly rod in your right hand. You are holding the rod tip vertically with your hand at its base, just above the ferrule. The guides are on the strip that is directly facing you. Your thumb is sitting squarely on that front strip of cane – the one that has the guides. Let’s call that strip 1. The strip next door to the left, we will call strip 2. Next to strip 2, will be strip 3. And next to strip 3 – you guessed it – strip 4. Strip 4 is the strip that is the back strip – the one directly inline and behind strip 1. Your index finger is resting squarely on the cane of strip 4. Next to strip 4 is strip 5. Next to strip 5 is strip 6. And next to strip 6 you find yourself back at strip 1 and your thumb.

Check out the diagram if you are confused.

Now, with strip 1 facing you, imagine looking up the length of the strip of bamboo until you find the the first node. You won’t need to look more than several inches to find what is likely to look like a slight discoloration in the bamboo. That’s the node. A well-crafted rod will not have a node at that same height on strip 2 or 6. Period.

As you turn the rod between your fingers inspecting the other strips to find the nodes, you get to look inside the mind of the maker. Where did he place the nodes? Why? Expedience? Cosmetics? Structural Quality? Some combination of these?

There are a few common approaches to staggering nodes that you may be interested to identify on any cane rod you have the privilege to inspect. To highlight these common staggering techniques, let’s return to our illustration. Remember that you just found the first node on the bamboo rod tip you are holding several inches up from the ferrule on the surface of strip 1.

2x2x2 Stagger. As you rotate the rod tip between your thumb and index finger to the left, you see that strip 2 does not have a node at the same vertical height as the one you found on strip 1. Strip 3 also does not have a node at that height. As you rotate the rod to strip 4 – the strip directly opposite of strip 1 – you find that it has a “matching” node at the same vertical alignment as strip 1. Strips 5 and 6 do not have nodes at that height. In this manner, “matching” nodes are found all the way up through the rod tip you are inspecting. This matching works to neutralize the crooked tendencies of a node.

Below is a nice illustration of node placement for a 2x2x2 design. Notice how the nodes “climb” up the rod through three steps, then fall back down, and then climb three steps again. If you were to turn the finished rod between your fingers, you could watch it climb and fall.



3x3 Stagger. Now let’s envision how the 3x3 stagger looks on a completed rod. Returning to our example where you found a node several inches up on the surface of strip 1, turn the rod tip to the left. Strip 2 does not have a node at that height. Strip 3 does have a matched node at that height. Strip 4 does not. On strip 5, you again find another matched node at that height. Strip 6 does not have a node at that height.

In his clear and simple language, Boyd writes, “Leonard and Granger always used a 3x3 node spacing, where each node is separated from another by its adjacent strip of clear bamboo.”

Here is a good picture of six split strips laid out in a 3x3 stagger.



Spiral Stagger. In a spiral pattern, no two nodes are ever aligned at the same height with one another. As you rotate the rod between your fingers, the nodes will slowly climb up the tip in smooth, even increments. An elegant design, to be sure.

I have to admit that the spiral pattern holds the most cosmetic appeal to me, but cosmetic appeal is only my second concern. My first concern is structural integrity. After much contemplation, I decide on the 2x2x2 for my first rod (and probably the next many rods to follow). The concept of offsetting, neutralized nodes makes the most sense in my mind because of the finished strength and because of the way a 2x2x2 stagger is reported to require less straightening after binding and heat treating.

I have one other decision to make in regards to staggering my nodes. How should I stagger the nodes on my second tip section?

Obviously I will stick with the 2x2x2 stagger for the second tip, but should the nodes be at the exact same heights on both tip sections? Should they be on the exact same strips in the exact same pattern? This is an opportunity to demonstrate that the rod was made with forethought, care, and attention to detail.

Honestly, this is an easy decision for me. I have known for almost a full year that I would like to use a butterfly pattern. Here is what that means:

Imagine that you are holding both the completed tip sections of my finished rod in the same manner described above. One rod tip is in your left hand and the other is in your right. Strip 1 of both rods is facing you. You find the first node a few inches up from the ferrule on the rod in your left hand. When you look to the rod in your right hand, you find the first node at the exact same vertical alignment. Classy.

As you turn the rod tip in your left hand to strip 2, you climb the first stair – the node is about 2” higher. But instead of turning the rod tip in your right had to strip 2 to climb the first stair, you turn it in the opposite direction – to strip 6 – to climb the first stair. As you continue to turn the rod tips in opposite directions, you see this pattern continue. Reverse matching. Like the wings of a butterfly, the nodes on the two rod tips climb higher as they progress in opposite directions. Very classy.

Alright, that was awfully technical and I can’t imagine that anyone is still reading. So…Time for a Pop Quiz! Check out the picture below. Can you identify the pattern the maker used to stagger the nodes? Post your answer.



The hardest part about staggering nodes is the decision making. Once you have your strips laid out in front of you and you have made your decisions, the rest is easy. I will quote Boyd again because I followed his instruction to the letter.

“Without moving strip #1, move strip #2 up two inches. Move strip #3 up four inches. Don’t move strip #4! Move strip #5 up two inches, and #6 four inches… Place a straight edge across the lowest point where it will touch all six pieces of bamboo, and mark pieces 1, 2, 4, and 5. This mark will designate the butt end of each piece in this rod section. You will not cut the butt end of strips 3 and 6.”

I then repeat this process at the top of my strips by placing the straight edge across the highest point where it will touch all six pieces, and cut the corresponding pieces. Piece of cake. To close this session, I ensure that all of my butt strips are still “painted” black on their bases, and that all tip strips are red on their bases. The strips that were cut require a fresh coat from the permanent marker. I then use a fine-point pen to number each strip (1-6 on the butts and 1-12 on the tips). This will save me time and frustration if I set a strip or two down out of order.
 ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/11-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Update: Thursday, March 17, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/10-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:23:23 GMT *Prepping Nodes* My mom always said, “Pride goeth before a fall” and she was always right. As I stand in victory over my strips early the next morning, something dawns on me. It’s my first “Oh $#%!” moment. In my excitement to flame the culm and split the strips, I completely forgot to prep the nodes! You will remember that nodes are the rings that grow in the culm to give it sturdability (my word) as it reaches 40 feet in one year. The power fibers intersect and cross one another at the nodes, creating two humps with a nodal valley in the middle. These nodes need to be “prepped” by removing the excess enamel that forms the two nodal ridges and by smoothing out the nodal valley. Like most aspects of bamboo rod making, prepping nodes is done by hand with a mill file. Makers simply hold the mill file against the two nodal ridges and roll the culm. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I have never done it before! :zbangingHead: Now, if you want to know about the really hard way to do it, I’m your guy! Understanding how a node is properly prepped can be an important tool for evaluating the overall quality of a rod. In general, production-grade bamboo rods are made fast and with less care. Rather than carefully prepping each node by hand, the company will automate the process with a sander or as part of a larger automated beveling process. The problem with these faster, easier approaches to prepping nodes is that they tend to remove too much enamel in some place, cutting into the power fibers and compromising the strength and integrity of the rod. The telltale indicator can be seen when inspecting the nodes. Look for exposed power fibers at the nodes that interlock and cross one another. Forgetting to prep the nodes was a stupid mistake on my part, but as first mistakes go, it is not that bad. I can fix it. I just have a lot of extra work ahead of me. Since I will be prepping the nodes after flaming, it’s also going to be messy. I will have a fine dust of charred enamel embedded in my mill file, which will require frequent cleaning to continue functioning properly. I will also have the char on my hands and in the air. When I wipe the sweat from my forehead, I will smear burnt enamel across my head, making me look like a Catholic on Ash Wednesday. A penalty stroke for sure, but I’m not disqualified. The other major bummer about this mistake is that I will have to prep each node ¼” at a time. Each ¼” node will take about as long to prep as the entire 6” of node had I prepped them before splitting the 360* culm. Since the sections of bamboo between nodes get longer as the plant grows taller, it’s not uncommon to have more nodes in the butt of a rod than in the tip. My rod has two nodes in the tip section and three in the butt. Five total nodes, times 18 strips (6 butt strips and 12 tip strips), equals 90 little nodes to prep. Good thing I got up early. By the time I finish, I’m running late for work, my hands are black, and I’m pretty sure I’ve drank a considerable amount of charred bamboo that has floated softly into my coffee. I doubt I will ever make this mistake again. Prepping Nodes

My mom always said, “Pride goeth before a fall” and she was always right.

As I stand in victory over my strips early the next morning, something dawns on me. It’s my first “Oh $#%!” moment. In my excitement to flame the culm and split the strips, I completely forgot to prep the nodes!

You will remember that nodes are the rings that grow in the culm to give it sturdability (my word) as it reaches 40 feet in one year. The power fibers intersect and cross one another at the nodes, creating two humps with a nodal valley in the middle. These nodes need to be “prepped” by removing the excess enamel that forms the two nodal ridges and by smoothing out the nodal valley.

Like most aspects of bamboo rod making, prepping nodes is done by hand with a mill file. Makers simply hold the mill file against the two nodal ridges and roll the culm. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I have never done it before! :zbangingHead: Now, if you want to know about the really hard way to do it, I’m your guy!

Understanding how a node is properly prepped can be an important tool for evaluating the overall quality of a rod. In general, production-grade bamboo rods are made fast and with less care. Rather than carefully prepping each node by hand, the company will automate the process with a sander or as part of a larger automated beveling process.

The problem with these faster, easier approaches to prepping nodes is that they tend to remove too much enamel in some place, cutting into the power fibers and compromising the strength and integrity of the rod. The telltale indicator can be seen when inspecting the nodes. Look for exposed power fibers at the nodes that interlock and cross one another.

Forgetting to prep the nodes was a stupid mistake on my part, but as first mistakes go, it is not that bad. I can fix it. I just have a lot of extra work ahead of me.

Since I will be prepping the nodes after flaming, it’s also going to be messy. I will have a fine dust of charred enamel embedded in my mill file, which will require frequent cleaning to continue functioning properly. I will also have the char on my hands and in the air. When I wipe the sweat from my forehead, I will smear burnt enamel across my head, making me look like a Catholic on Ash Wednesday.

A penalty stroke for sure, but I’m not disqualified.

The other major bummer about this mistake is that I will have to prep each node ¼” at a time. Each ¼” node will take about as long to prep as the entire 6” of node had I prepped them before splitting the 360* culm.

Since the sections of bamboo between nodes get longer as the plant grows taller, it’s not uncommon to have more nodes in the butt of a rod than in the tip. My rod has two nodes in the tip section and three in the butt. Five total nodes, times 18 strips (6 butt strips and 12 tip strips), equals 90 little nodes to prep. Good thing I got up early.

By the time I finish, I’m running late for work, my hands are black, and I’m pretty sure I’ve drank a considerable amount of charred bamboo that has floated softly into my coffee. I doubt I will ever make this mistake again.
 ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/10-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Update: Thursday, March 17, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/9-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:21:00 GMT
“The question becomes not which kind of rod is the most practical but whether the concept of practicality has any place in fly-fishing.”

- John Gierach

Splitting Strips

This is where things can really go wrong in a hurry.

Splitting cane is similar to ripping fabric. You make the initial cut and then, in theory, you simply extend the “rip” down the length of the material in a smooth straight line. But that’s “in theory.” In practice, bamboo tends to walk to one side or the other if you don’t steer it. Instead of uniform straight strips, you end up with unusable trash. The strips start out fine at the base, but by the top, one is ridiculously fat and the other is frustratingly thin.

Many a rod maker has come this far only to exhaust their modest supply of cane and never order more. At least that is what I have been told. And that is what I am desperate to avoid.

Our upstart fly-rod operation is comprised of three makers: my dad, Marv, his 30-year plus co-worker, George – both of whom are now retired from the railroad – and me. My dad and George live in Lincoln and are working on their first rod together. By the time I’m ready to split strips, they have already had a go at it and they weren’t pleased with how things went. The strips “walked on them something fierce.” And, after ruining enough cane to make them cringe, they finally took the culm to the band saw and cut their strips.

Some rods are not made from splitting strips, the strips are cut on the band saw. So, my dad and George were in good company. But from the research I did following their cutting, I learned that there is a trick to cutting that yields relatively straight strips. Not knowing about this “trick,” they ended up with a larger-than-normal task of straightening their strips once they were cut. From what I understand, after some serious labor their strips are now straight and ready for the next stage.

I have a band saw, but for some reason, I’m not going to use it. Not even if I waste an entire culm trying to learn the art of steering the split. So, I stay up way too late one night researching the best splitting techniques and envisioning successful splits.

There are two guiding principles that I learn from this additional research. First, a thinner froe (or splitting knife) will prevent the split from extending as far ahead as a thicker froe would. This is essentially the equivalent of driving slower on a twisting, high-mountain road. Too much speed and the car careens off the road and crashes through the guard rail. But slow down a bit on the hairpin turns and the road is negotiated with controlled ease.

So, in addition to my thick-bodied froe (still preferred for the initial drying split and to start smaller splits), I select a putty knife for my second froe. I haven’t heard of any makers using a putty knife, but I am convinced it will work well.

The second guiding principle for splitting straight strips is getting both hands on the culm. The high-mountain road is a good illustration again. Two hands on the steering wheel mean the driver has more control. My research doesn’t explain how to do this so I make it up. I will be holding the culm in my left hand ahead of my putty-knife froe. My right hand will grasp the froe in my palm with my thumb and index finger wrapped around the handle. My middle, ring, and pinky fingers will extend past the froe’s handle and grasp both halves of the freshly splitting strips.

When (not if) the split begins to walk toward me, I will bend both thumbs toward me and the split will steer away from me back to center. When the split starts to walk away from me, I will bend both thumbs away from me and the split will steer toward me back to center.

It all makes sense, so I go to bed anxious to see how things go tomorrow evening.

By 8:00 PM the next evening, the kids are in bed and the wife is running on the treadmill plugged into her ipod, which covers my noise. It is a perfect time to split some strips. Remember, I am starting with two, 52” sections that have only the drying split in them and have been flamed.

After putting on a pair of calfskin gloves to prevent hundreds of bamboo splinters, I grab my thick-bodied froe, stand the butt section up and split it in half by driving the froe down into the base-end of the section with a rubber mallet. I whack the froe down through the 52” in a few seconds. This is still crude work. Straight and fast down a flat desert road.

Soon I have two halves (180*). I set one half aside and concentrate on the other. If things go well, I will only need one half to make the rod and the other half can be saved for a future project.



Next, I move to the work bench and use the froe and rubber mallet to start two splits in the half culm. As always, I’m splitting from the trunk end up. These two splits will yield three, equal-width strips that are approximately 1” wide.

Once the two splits have been started, I put the large-bodied froe and rubber mallet to the side and take hold of the half culm and putty-knife froe. The putty knife slips into one split and I force it down the length of the half culm steering as I go. The putty knife stops at each node where, after a quick twist of the wrist, the node pops and the split advances into the next section.

I can’t help but smile as I realize this technique has given me perfect control over the split. I can steer it to and fro at will and can prevent or allow the advance of the split by contracting or relaxing my left hand. The cracking and splitting of the cane gives off an unreasonable level of enjoyment. This is split-cane rod making! :ayes:

Soon I have turned the half culm into three strips.



I pick up the large-bodied froe and mallet again and each of the three strips gets a whack to start a split in the centers of their width. The putty-knife froe goes back to work as three strips become six strips and the wife nears two miles on the treadmill in my estimation. Each strip is now approximately ½” wide.



Finally, each of the six strips receives another whack in the middle with the large-bodied froe and mallet. The putty-knife froe then makes six more passes down a VERY narrow high-mountain road.

Without incident, 12 strips each measuring about ¼” wide and 52” long are arrayed on the work bench from one half of the butt section culm. Eventually, six of these strips will comprise the butt section of my first bamboo fly rod. The other six will be ruined, experimented on, or saved for a future project.

Satisfaction.



The entire process is then repeated on the tip-section culm.

My rod-making philosophy dictates that the utmost quality be sought in every aspect of the make. Why go to the all the trouble to make something this difficult if it is not the very best it could be. That means that even this first “practice” rod will have two tip sections – as it should. Therefore, I will need 12 – rather than six – strips from the top culm.

The 12 strips emerge from 180* of the culm successfully. One strip got a little thin while I was driving too fast, but I calculate that it will be fine (remember this!).

I then place the extra six strips from the butt section in the unused butt-half culm and tape them in there for safe keeping. I inscribe on the underside (or pith side) of the unused butt and tip half culms, “Butt section, 52”, inferior-grade bamboo” and “Tip section, 52”, inferior-grade bamboo” respectively.

I store this unused bamboo in a safe place, clean up the shop, kill the lights, and I’m back upstairs before my wife finishes her run. PROOF that I do not have an obsession with making bamboo fly rods.
 ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/9-update-thursday-march-17-2009.html Update: Monday, March 16, 2009 http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/8-update-monday-march-16-2009.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:17:34 GMT
“Old rod makers refer to building one’s first rod as a “thousand hour journey,” and that’s not much of a stretch.”

- Harry Boyd

In this post:
1) Selecting the Taper
2) Cutting to Length
3) Flaming the Culm


So far, there has been very little commitment with my bamboo. I haven’t done anything permanent or unfixable… yet.

1) Selecting the Taper
I’ve decided to make the Cattanach724. Wayne Cattanach wrote Handcrafting Bamboo Fly Rods and through that publication, he has become one of my principal instructors. Cattanach is a master and a pioneer in Bamboo Fly Rod instruction. Harry Boyd said this of him, “My friend Wayne Cattanach learned rodmaking through trial and error, and brought this arcane art down to earth…”From his writings, it sounds like Cattanach’s children grew up learning to make rods along with their dad. I should hope to be so lucky with my kids.


I guess before I get too far into discussing the taper, I should tip my cap to the other two instructors that have guided me thus far. Harry Boyd, now retired, was a Baptist minister for 23 years and makes bamboo fly rods out of his garage. Boyd has a way of explaining complex stuff in simple language. When I read him, I get it. He teaches individual students to build rods, offers rod making classes to small groups several times a year, and also started the Ozark Rod Makers School. He has built a remarkable legacy as a maker’s instructor. Here are a couple of pictures of his remarkable craftsmanship.




Cattanach and Boyd are great – modern bamboo legends really – but they don’t know I exist. That’s why I really appreciate my final mentor. His name is Malcolm Cullen. He is a British-born instructor (of graphic design I believe) living in Toronto. We met online and struck up a friendship. Malcolm made a video of one of his rod-making projects and sent it to me. He warned me that the video was unlikely to receive any academy award nominations, but it continues to be incredibly helpful to me. No matter how many rods I make, they will always have a Malcolm flare to them. Here is some of Malcolm’s excellent work.





So, back to the Cattanach724…

Cattanach’s 7’, 2 piece, 4 weight (724) is an elegant rod that has a “hinge” at the 55” point that assists in roll casting. The University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee has an amazing Online Rod Taper Archive. The archive prints this about the #cat724, “This rod by "St Wayne" Cattanach has been praised by many on the Rodmakers list, starting with ‘Sir D’ (Darryl Hayashida). Many of us ‘hobby builders’ have made this as our first rod. Wayne says the original taper is a blend of a Paul Young Midge and a Cross Sylph.”

Here’s how the rod looks on paper… sexy, eh?



2) Cutting to Length

Here’s where that commitment part really gets serious…

I followed Boyd’s method for the initial cutting to size of my culm. To do this, I calculated the length of my sections. The Cattanach724 is an 84” rod made of two pieces – a butt section and a tip section. That means both sections will be 42” in length. Boyd had me add 6” to allow for node staggering (we will cover that soon enough) and 4” for breathing room. So, I want to cut a butt section from the trunk end of the culm that is 52” and a tip section from the top of the culm that is also 52”.

At this point, I lay a tape measure on my workbench open to 52” and lock it in place. It’s a Wednesday morning and I’m up ridiculously early before work. Cup of coffee in hand. The furnace masking some of my faint noise. This is dangerous work, but necessary. Drop a tool here and the sound will carry straight up the duct work and wake up a sleeping child… or worse.

I slide the tape up and down the culm, trying to visualize the best two sections. The culm is still 144” at this point and I need 104” of the very best cane it has to offer. My main concern at this point is all those nodes. Nodes are the rings that grow in the culm to give it sturdability (my word) as it reaches 40 feet in one year. The power fibers intersect and cross one another at the nodes, creating two humps with a nodal valley in the middle. While the nodes add strength in life, they become the weakest part of a fly rod. Therefore, I want to keep all the nodes at least 5” from the tip of my rod (that’s also my goal for the top of the butt section).

In order to assure 5” at the tip in the final product, I need to make sure I have 12” before the first node at this stage (you will understand why, when we get to staggering the nodes).

In addition to my preoccupation with the nodes, I’m also thinking about the top of my culm. I don’t like it. In the top two sections, there are 2 leaf marks, some splits that happened before I was able to start the drying split, some pretty thin power fibers, and what I think might be a patch of sand embedded under the enamel... I decide to discard these two sections if I can make the tape measure add up to 104” without them.

With enough fidgeting, everything finally falls into place. I use a felt-tip marker and encircle the culm where I need to cut – four cuts in all. Nothing left to do, but take a deep breath and start in with the hacksaw. Oh wait, it’s 5:00 in the morning and everyone is fast asleep. It would be stupid to start sawing now. I guess I will tie a pike fly or two.

By late that evening, I finally get the chance to make my cuts. Soon, I have a 52” butt section and a 52” tip section. No turning back now. I use a black permanent marker to “paint” the base of my butt section and a red marker for the base of my tip.

Now that’s commitment.

3) Flaming

Once I had finally committed to my first make, I found myself rapidly getting deeper and deeper in the project until one day I realized I was playing with fire.

It’s a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. My one-year-old son just went down for his nap and my five-year-old daughter and I are in the backyard. She is playing in the mud and already filthy, but I’m not one to talk since I have a 52” piece of bamboo propped up on two trash cans and I’m about ready to ignite a propane torch. How is that any more grown up?

Bamboo doesn’t have to be flamed. Blond rods, as they are called, are quite attractive, and since I will heat treat the rod at later stages, the flaming does little to improve the overall action of the finished product at this stage.

But, flaming can add a lot cosmetically to a rod and accomplishes two important elements that are helpful to the novice maker like me. It dries the cane out, making the next stage – strip slitting – a heck of a lot easier, and it turns what would be unsightly watermarks into toned, unique features. Plus, who doesn’t want to play with a torch on a beautiful spring day?

Just how darkly a maker chooses to flame a rod is a matter of taste, but he should be prepared to see the lightly colored bamboo turn a dark brown, even black. The rod will lighten considerably when sanded after binding and gluing.

I’m using a common torch made by Bernzomatic. There is nothing special about this torch except for the attachment. Part number 810 – the Bernzomatic Stainless Steel Flame Spreader. It's cheap - less than $2.00 - but without it, my flame would be too sharp and I would cook my power fibers before I toned the enamel. Plus, the job would take a lot longer working in ½” passes as opposed to 1 ½” wide swipes.

I hold the culm in my right hand, ahead of the flaming process, but I still wear gloves knowing that at some point I will have an unavoidable lapse in judgment and switch hands, grabbing a hot stick of bamboo. My left hand holds the torch steady, while my right hand slowly turns the bamboo up starting at one side of the drying split and ending at the other side of the drying split. Then I move the torch over an inch and a half and move down from the drying split to the other side of the drying split. Up, then down. Up, then down.

Soon I realize the drying split has grown much wider. The cane must be drying out. Up, then down. Up, then down. Over and over as I work my way from the base toward the top of the culm.

If cutting was a commitment, flaming is a long, slow engagement. One hundred and four inches at a turtle’s pace.

The bamboo turns black and hundreds of micro explosions on the surface of the enamel hypnotize and mesmerize me. This is just as Cattanach and Boyd described it. Finally, I finish the first section and start in on the second. This time, I think I’ll go down, then up. Down, then up.

On rare occasions, the bamboo pops as the culm dries and expands. But thanks to the drying split, I hear mainly the mind-numbing hum of the torch, interrupted by the shrieks of my daughter playing outside for the first time in months.

A great way to spend an hour or two on a warm spring Saturday if you ask me.

The bernzomatic with the flame spreader attached


The flamed sections


LOOK OUT!!! Here comes the Mud Monster! :SM_SS_rubeyes2:



Coming soon... Splitting Strips, Prepping Nodes, Staggering Nodes, and Building A Copper Base for a Dial Gauge. ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/8-update-monday-march-16-2009.html The Cane is Here! http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/7-cane-here.html Thu, 02 Apr 2009 04:11:38 GMT After months of preparation and anticipation our cane is finally here, and it was well worth the wait. :2thumbsup:

Now it's time to get serious about making split-cane fly rods...

Bamboo poles - or more technically, culms - tend to come by the bundle. A bundle consists of 10, 12-foot poles, and will run you about $200, plus another $100 for shipping. A single culm then will run you about $30 and can make 2, 2-piece rods, each with 2 tips. That's $15 a rod in cane.

Once your bamboo arrives, the first task is to put a drying split in each culm. Without a drying split, the culms will begin to split as they dry in random places. You will end up with smallish splits all over your cane. A drying split will keep just a single split down the middle of the culm until you're ready to split it out for the rest of your strips.

Splitting cane is surprisingly fun and simple. The tools involved include a rubber mallet, a regular screw driver, and a froe. Froes are most commonly used for splitting shake shingles around here. They are essentially just knives made of material that wont shatter when repeatedly beat with a mallet. I didn't want to spend $60 for a Bamboo Froe, so I bought a throwing knife also constructed not to shatter on repeated impacts.

Drying splits should be started from the thicker, trunk end of the culm.The maker simply uses the mallet and froe to start the split and works it up to the first node and through. A splitting sound is occasionally interrupted by a popping sound when the split moves through a node. From time to time, a regular screw driver can be helpful to spread the split to "pop" the next node or more easily remove the froe to examine your work - no need to rush things.

Here are my three culms, now with drying splits.




More to come... ]]> Chad http://www.nefga.org/forum/blogs/chad/7-cane-here.html