Sunday, August 30, 2015

Refurbishing a Wooden Box for a Shoe Shine Kit


It's time for another project.  Back in June, we celebrated our Anniversary, and Kimberley gifted me with a wonderful subscription to Bespoke Post.  My first "box" was a seriously complete shoe shine kit.

I already had a few bits and pieces for caring for my few items of quality leather footwear, but like many guys, I was storing it all in an old shoebox.  As I've invested recently in some better shoes, this was a fitting gift, but it was so upscale that it felt awkward just to chuck it all into the same ratty old box.

I remembered that I had an old wooden box that had belonged to my Grandfather.  It had been among his vast trove of random objects in his garage after he'd passed away.  When my mother conveyed to me a small collection of hand-tools from his bench, she used the wooden box to carry them.  Honestly, I have little idea what the box would have originally been used for, but I understand why it was there - like my Grandfather I'm always loathe to discard any object that can be made useful again.

A simple box, devoid of markings or hardware

Appears to have been previously lined on top, and may have had an "insert" in the bottom.

Based on its construction details like the way the lining had been glued and the fact that it looked originally to have had fabric hinges stapled in, and no other hardware, I suspect it had been rather inexpensively made some time ago.  Inexpensively, but not badly.  There were some pretty box joints at the corners, and it was all solid wood.  From the size, and these details, I'm guessing it was originally a gift box that housed a pair of nice bottles of wine or the like.


To begin, I have everything a decent sanding.  The top and sides were still in fairly good shape, so I didn't do much here.  The bottom was fairly badly worn, but I didn't want to go crazy with removing every mark - I wanted this box to have some character, so I just took out some of the marks but left the deeper gouges more or less intact.


Next I performed all the woodworking operations. I pre-drilled to fit some brass hinges where the fabric had originally passed through.  Since the lifting handle on the front precluded the easy installation of a latch, I also drilled recesses in the forward corners to receive magnets that will hold the box closed.  One more sanding to clean up from these steps.


Finally, I was ready to start the finishing process.  I applied two coats of wipe-on Minwax gel stain.  I let Annika pick the color,  I think it was "Honey Maple".  And a light sanding between each coat, of course.

After staining, more light sanding, interspersed with three coats of wipe-on polyurethane.  I tried to use only burlap to take off the tackiness from the poly, but didn't meet with success.  In the end, I had to use some 0000 Steel Wool, against manufacturer recommendations.


After the poly cured, it was time for the lining.  Kimberley was climbing the walls for weeks trying to recycle the cereal boxes I'd been collecting for this stage.  I needed some thin, non-corrugated cardboard to wrap the felting around, and these were the only source on hand.


I cut the cardboard for one main top/bottom panel and four side strips for each half of the box.  These were cut with a framing square and a utility knife with a hardboard backer.
Pardon the lighting, I was trying to work in the shade.

I pre-cut the felt oversized for each piece.  Then I sprayed the felt with 3M Super-77 adhesive and lay the cardboard down, then I wrapped the edges over.

Corners were mitered by folding in both edges in at 45° then trimming while pulling on the fold.  I have a grubby pair of scissors just for things that have been sprayed with Super-77.  I use it that often.

The top and bottom panels were fitted first.  Another shot with Super-77 made sure the panel would stay fixed to the wood, but isn't 100% permanent, should I ever need to re-do this process.



The side panels were fitted in the same way, but it starts to get hard to calculate the tolerance stack-up of the thickness of the layers of bard and felt.  First, I needed to re-trim the height of each side piece to account for the thickness of the main top/bottom panels.  Next, came the lengths.  The best approach was to fit the two long edges of a box first, then put the felt and cardboard for a short edge in for a test-fit and trim as needed.  I found that I needed to remove 1/8" to 3/16" from each edge.

With all the felt panels installed, it was time for hardware.


I installed the brass hinges, but first needed to nip the end of each screw to avoid punching into the inside of the thin wooden walls.

The corner magnets were checked for polarity, marked on the "back" side, and then super-glued into the pre-drilled recesses.

Finally, someplace to put my lovely Bespoke Post gift box.

And room to add the few extra pieces I was already using.

My Grandfather would have been proud.  A handsome box, preserved from the garbage, and turned into something that will serve me for many years going forward.


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Monday, March 30, 2015

Hot Action Under the California Sun

Our weekend at Chuckwalla Valley Raceway starts as a story about being stuck smack in the middle.  While probably not the middle of nowhere, CVR is, in fact, in a pretty desolate area almost precisely equidistant from the EFF Home Base in the greater Phoenix area, and our home in San Diego.  Unfortunately for everyone without a sleeper RV, it is also almost precisely equidistant from neighboring towns Blythe and Indio, which made for some early mornings and late evenings as we all carpooled some 45 minutes to and from the nearest hotel in Blythe.













For all of that, though, our trek to Chuckwalla Valley was rewarded by another fine weekend amongst good people, spent gleefully converting hydrocarbons into forward (and sometimes backwards) motion.  The Chuckwalla track is a wonderful collection of 17 corners snaking amongst the undulating dry lake basin.  Long, fast corners, linked to very technical sections of elevation change, made for a very different environment than most of the tracks we've become used to.  This was the first visit for most of us, so various portions of Saturday's sessions were spent simply finding our way around.  While the off-camber blind hill-crest of turns 8-9-10 challenged many of us for most of the weekend, the "corkscrew" and NASCAR banking that followed became much beloved.  Personally, I loved the fast, sweeping sections where you really had to drive through those corners, rather than just pirouetting around a collection of apexes at speed.  And speaking of, late apex were the words of the weekend.  Several reducing radius turns, and other places with pinched exits, definitely rewarded those who could patiently wait for those pesky cones to (finally) come into view before finishing a corner.

Most of whatever time on Saturday wasn't spent trying to learn the new circuit was spent trying to stay hydrated.  As it turns out, the hot action on the track could barely compete with off-track temperatures nearly 20° above monthly averages.  Chef Lauren, Lisa, and the rest of the crew did their best to keep us fed and watered, but I think at one point or another, each of us got behind and felt the effects.  

The open wheel contingent drew the lucky straw for Sunday, and our early start was matched by a planned early finish, giving everyone plenty of time to pack for their drives home.  Earlier sessions and a smattering of cloud cover made for more tolerable temperatures, although overheating of drivers, and cars, was still an issue. 







During lunch, someone had suggested that the days would later be referred to as The Black Flag Sessions, and while it sounds more like a really edgy Jazz-Fusion project with Henry Rollins, it does aptly describe our time with Speed Ventures, our hosts for the weekend.  They were gracious and worked very hard, but a variety of on-track incidents, some trivial, some non-trivial, showed differences in experience (or temperament) in flagging and clearing the track.  Their policy of (sometimes) black-flagging any car that put four wheels off the track had us scratching our heads, and using the whole-course black flags to pit-lane all cars prior to re-starts was confusing.  The biggest disappointment was when an unfortunate shunt on the out-lap of Sunday's second session led to delays in clearing the cars, and we lost the entire 20 minutes.  While there were two cars were damaged, and even a minor injury, watching the session tick away, and overhearing the confused radio chatter while sitting at the head of the black-flag queue, made it clear how spoiled we've been by Hurley and the team from Pro Auto Sports. 

At the end of the weekend, though, the true metric of the experience is measured on the size of the smiles on all our faces.  Everybody made huge improvements, and by Sunday's final race there were several tightly-packed groups of cars contesting nearly every position, as has become the norm for this group.  It was universally agreed that we should return to the Chuckwalla Valley, though I think most hoped that next year it might be in February, instead of March!

For myself, it was great to be back on-track with my brother Alex, back in the States for only a handful of times in so many years.  We haven't raced together since we were both in rented Spec-7's several years ago, and he's made the transition to open-wheel without trouble.  More importantly, he is already helping to keep the rest of the pack confused as to exactly which Herbst in TriCalm colors they're battling with.  Spending so much quality time with Brother/Father/Uncle is how I justify weekends away from the rest of my life, but it really is an unmatched experience to share.

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