By Lucy

There was always a risk gift-receivers might read my blog, so I can’t post about gifts before I have given them! Nonetheless, I wanted to write about this one, so I’m writing it as I work on it and I’ll post it after he’s received it.

The Vagabond has this mental image of himself as a Woden-type figure. Which is especially enhanced by his constant mention of searching for knowledge, in any form. He’s taken a few pictures of himself posing with a wizard-staff-style walking stick (that he does not own).

I liked the idea of making one for him. Practicing woodworking skills – integral for carpentry – the commitment of a goodly number of hours, the care, the ways it could be customized. I drew myself a rough idea of what I wanted it to look like, cognizant that I’d be limited by how much time I wanted to spend looking for the perfect tree.

(Not to mention, carving a tree is free, and I am very broke!)

I know I wanted it to be roughly 6 feet tall, so he could lean on it like a wizard staff, and a leather cord for a grip. I also had the idea of carving some runes on it. In this instance, Grimnir – one of Odin’s epithet’s, meaning “masked” or “hooded”. It refers to Odin’s propensity to go amongst the human population in disguise. I chose it because me and the Vagabond loves masks, both literally and as metaphors.

The Head of the Giant hike in mid-July was when I wanted to buckle down and find a stick. A fresh walking stick will take a month or two to dry out properly, and I was just shy of six weeks. Plus, I should try to get the bulk of the carving done now, while he’s out of town and I have lots of free time.

Unfortunately, I was too worn out to go stick hunting. As we headed back to the car, I started making plans for a separate trip to grab a stick, possibly cutting down a sapling.

As we got back to the parking lot, however, an absolutely perfect specimen was leaning against the sign! Providence?!

It was about 9 feet long, but I always have a saw in my trunk… for reasons… so we cut it down to 7 feet so it would fit in the backseat. I wanted to cut it down to 6, but Hanuman thought I should leave a little extra for wiggle room. It appeared to be a white spruce sapling, about ten years old based on the rings.

I waited until afternoon the next day to start whittling. First order of business was to remove the bark, although both Hanuman and my landlord tried to tell me to leave the bark on. It was dry and flaking off, and I wanted the look of the wood underneath.

I grabbed my trusty utility knife, the case of new blades, a drink and my headphones, and sat down on the bench in the yard. The sun was a bit much, even in the late afternoon. The first foot was smooth and came off easily. Around the 2-3 foot mark, I started encountering knots, which were tricky to tackle with my little knife. I also kept finding worm tracks, and I was unsure if I should carve them off or try to fill them in.

I also noted there was some water damage around what would be the root ball.

My landlord came out, as he usually does. We chatted a bit about work, and how to carve. He told me he had some tools for me to use on the stick, and he’d dig them out later for me to use the next day.

After an hour and roughly 3 feet whittled, I called it a day. I didn’t want to tire my arms out too much.

The next day I went back to it. This was the Friday I started my motorcycle course, so I wanted to get a good chunk of the work done because I knew I wouldn’t be getting any done Saturday or Sunday.

My landlord was outside while I was working, so he offered me some tools… of debatable necessity. The scraper I couldn’t imagine what the original function was, nevermind how it might help me. His knife was better at peeling off the dry outer bark, but I still found my knife to be more helpful for the soft inner bark.

I got almost all the bark off, save for a small bit at the end I decided to leave cuz I’d be cutting it down.

As predicted, no more work was done for a couple of days.

Monday was nice and cloudy and cool, so I sat outside for a couple of hours. I touched up some parts where I missed the bark. There were a lot of worm tracks in spots, and it was hard to tell what was an old worm track and what was dried inner bark. I decided where I wanted the length to be and cut the walking stick down to intended size. Then I shaped the bottom edge into a chamfer.

The knots were the most annoying bit. They defied both my knives. I had to slowly peel chunks off them until I got them to the point they could be sanded down. I didn’t want the stick to be a uniform smoothness, but I didn’t want any really large knots, or jagged knot edges.

I used a large grit sandpaper to rub off the cut marks and any bits of bark I missed, then some finer grit to smooth out everything.

The top of the stick gave me pause and made me second guess having cut it down already. I was still unsure how to shape it, or what I should shape it to be. I decided to use the larger grit sandpaper to get rid of the sharp edges, but some of the wood was rotten from the water damage and chunks started falling off in my hands!

I decided to leave it to dry for the better part of a month. Once the Vagabond was back from work, we’d go on the Circle tour and be busy for the better part of two weeks. Then I could finish it once he left and before his birthday.

And we all know how that went!

For a week after the break-up, the stick sat in the corner of my room. I had done nothing to it but de-bark it – I could just return it to the woods and let it rot. I probably should. I owed him nothing and I should be fighting to move on.

Fighting is the word for it. Like my landlord had said in the video, it was a labour of love, and it was hard to just throw that away.

On Tuesday, I started carving anew. I chose runes partially because their angular shape is easier to carve, especially for a novice. I realized as I sat down that I had no idea where to start, really. I settled on cutting V-shaped notches into the wood. It was functional, if not the prettiest thing. Some of the negative space chipped and fell away, unfortunately.

I grabbed a small needle file and tried rounding out the edges. It didn’t really seem to do anything.

I was still lost for what to do with the top. I really wanted to preserve it – it kind of looked like a bird head, which is apropos for Odin – but when I took the sandpaper to it, large chunks fell off again. It was too water damaged. I cut it off just below the line of the water damage and shaped it into a rounded top. I wished I hadn’t cut down the bottom yet because it was shorter than I had intended now, although still longer than 6 feet.

My landlord came outside and I asked him about the boiled linseed oil he said he had. We searched around the basement and garage, but couldn’t find it. I didn’t want to buy a bottle of something I was unlikely to use again, especially considering there was an argument to be made that I shouldn’t be working on this at all. He offered me some wood stain and I accepted that. What were the odds the Vagabond actually used the stick, anyway?

I applied one coat and left it to dry overnight in my landlord’s garage so I wouldn’t be hot-boxing myself with solvents in my small room.

Wednesday I applied a second coat.

Friday I finished it.

I had a length of leather cord for a handle. A walking stick doesn’t need a handle wrap, but I thought a proper wizard stave should have one. I let the cord soak in water for an hour – that way, when the leather dries and shrinks, it’s practically bonded to the stick.

I tried using a fancy spiral wrap at first, but it wasn’t working with the kind of round cord I had, so I abandoned it for a straightforward wrap. I ended up having to unravel it and redo it, because it was too tight for me to pull the bottom loop up!

Then it was done, this whole project.

I threw it in the car, along with some plastic containers I had to return to his place, and a card. Just a simple card, it said “What wine goes with birthday cake, red or white?” Hah hah.

My hands were shaking as I walked up to the door. He shouldn’t be back, but there was no way to tell – he parks out back. I let myself into the sunroom and tripped over a pile of flyers. He wasn’t back yet. I placed the containers and card on the chair, and leaned the stick next to the door.

And then it was done.

I was proud of the work I’d done on it. I was vaguely glad I had finished it regardless. It looked good.

I drove back home with tears in my eyes.

Still a lot of emotions to process.