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In the last pictorial essay, Part 1 of the Workshop Saga of 2024 commenced, our marriage saved, a needed tool broke, and I began to get a handle on an arms-length list of things to be made. Like everyone else, the arms-length list is one of many, tagging along with Writing Things List, House Things List, Family Things List, you get the picture.
One item appeared on two lists, the arms-length list of things to build and the Family Things List. That and the fact the planer awaited a new drive belt meant the item was the cream in an unshaken jug of milk. Besides, it was a big and long and took up too much bench top space and tabletop space, so the sooner I cleared it out, the better.
I’m a lucky guy having daughters and I’m even luckier having sons by virtue of law and romance with my daughters. One loves making beer and the other fishing, owning so many rods, storage is a challenge. Rods propped against a wall tend to lean and fall and get tangled. So one Christmas, I gave him rod holders (to be built) for laying his rods in a previously unused space along his garage ceiling. The perfect gift for someone who takes fishing so seriously, we once drug the bottom of a lake to snag a rod and reel that fell off the boat. We came up empty grapple. As a good father-in-law, I volunteered to rent a tank and go diving for it. The offer was declined; it was only a rod.
No need to embarrass anyone and identify which Christmas the gift was given (to be built). There was the generational excuse of course—I had to walk eight miles through the snow to reach the workshop. The main excuse was I’ve been writing, furiously. And I ran into a design flaw.
Rod holders work by inserting the butt/cork end of the rod into a circular opening and then inserting an upper end of the rod into a clip. Clips work best when the rods are vertical, releasing accidentally under the weight of a horizontally laid rod. With this ceiling mount version, the goal is to allow someone to easily put a rod up and take it down, all without having to stand on a stool, ladder, etc. And without having to secure the rod with elastic cords. In other words, keep it simple to use.
I redesigned it, paying attention to the upper end hole. After the previous flop, I tested this new version on a scrap piece. Looking up from the floor, it's hard to precisely position things on the ceiling. Here, all the rod does is follow the outside of the curve to both lay in the rod and remove it.
And it works! The bottom edge of the hole is deep enough the rod stays in place, won’t bounce out (if you must know, it’s thanks to the depth being 1/3 of the overall diameter). The old rod used for testing has been donated to charity, as the Great Workshop Cleanup of 2024 continues.
Construction commenced with the drilling of many holes, cutting the lead-ins, and sanding, lots of sanding to smooth the edges and not damage the rods and fishing line.
Next came painting, with help of course.
I could be wrong, but I think the thing most people will wonder about the above photo, is where did you get those custom-built, sturdy-enough-to-balance-an-open-paint-can, sawhorses? Made ‘em. (We painted in a private backyard and, to state the obvious, no paint soiled his clothes.) My helper’s enthusiasm led to the tops of the sawhorses being painted as well. It was all bare wood to him.
Finally, the installation. All are happy. Except maybe the fish.
To add a touch of utility, note the spatula-like tool hanging on the left side of the above pic. It’s a walnut push tool, allowing the rod to be inserted and removed from the right side holder, all while standing on the ground.
The new planer drive belt arrived. I have no more excuses for beginning the small, yet weighty, project I dread.
(To be continued.)
All the Best,
Geoff
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I learned, I laughed, I look forward to the next one, Geoff!
I like that you use the "KISS" method.