It's been busy. Not in a bad way.

This owl came to check out the field mouse scene by my shop the other night:

Got some interesting stuff in the works. For now, here's a photodump with some brief captions:

Decorative grille for burglary prevention:

Mitering the seat tube notch on bike 19 for my buddy Nathan:

The transverse  holes are for barrel nuts to mount the disc caliper. I only like seatstay mounting calipers if the bike is never going to need a rack or full coverage fenders. Mounting on the chainstay requires a different design of dropout that raises the seatstay up and out of the way of the caliper. Not a problem, just different.

Clearance for 29 x 3.0" tires. We used a 157mm rear axle spacing for extra chainring/tire clearance:

Not a great picture, but this is a height adjuster for a bike repair stand that slides up and down on a 3" square post. For the uppy-downy part, I bought a 12" piece of 3.5" square tube from McMaster ($24) and welded nuts to it. I also glued in some HDPE (milk jug material) inside to make the sliding action smoother. The tightening screws are made from a piece of 7/8" allthread I had lying around welded to a 1" tube t-handle. Nice big threads which don't mind being reefed on. In theory, this kind of stand could be used with a wooden post, as long as it was securely affixed to the floor and ceiling. Mine is a 3" square tube welded to a flange, which is then bolted to the concrete floor. Very solid relative to what's available from Park et al.

Modular canoe rack. Can be bolted to a flatbed trailer. There are some cross-members not shown in this photo:

Six lovely canoes. I made two of these racks, and was just asked for more. Perhaps I should make them four levels instead of three.

Finally got this school bus deck installed for my skoolie conversion friends/customers ("Peachy Dreams Skoolie" is the name of their project if you want to look them up). Still needs planks and a few details, but it's going to be pretty cool. It folds up into a transit position while driving.

Most of the stuff I've been working on lately hasn't been particularly noteworthy or picture-worthy, but here's a custom fork being mitered for a recumbent front hub motor conversion. This was my first time building a unicrown fork, and ultimately, it was easier, once I had the fixturing figured out. I mean, duh, segmented forks are going to require two extra miters, with a compound angle I might add, and two extra welds. Four if you count leg-caps.
It's a straight-blade, whereas the original fork was curved. I don't believe there's a significant structural difference between the two, though the pre-yielding involved in bending the legs maybe de-localizes the point of future plastic deformation. I dunno, I'm not an engineer. I'm just going on my best understanding of the forces at work.

It feels slightly scandalous to admit here when I do something other than work on the projects that my customers are patiently waiting for, some having given me money in expectation. That said, my Summer has been pleasantly full of cool things. Canoe trips with new friends, bike trips with old friends. We came out high above Poole Slough near Newport in a semi-bushwhacky quest to connect Beaver Creek Road to South Beach. Behold:

Between Zach's squiggly GPS line, two sources of maps, satellite images and some backtracking, we succeeded in making the cut-through, which beats the heck out of riding on Highway 101 between Ona Beach and Newport.

I wish I'd gotten some better photos of these "caster boards" I made for the new Oregon Trail Brewery to move their new 1,100lb fermenting tanks into the brewery. There are four of them, one for each leg, and they ride 1/2" off the ground.
This project made me wish fervently for a CNC plasma cutter. Cutting plate is hard to do accurately by hand, and grinding to size takes an unfeasibly long time.
Certainly, I could have come up with a better design, that would have been as strong and rigid as these while being easier to manufacture, but I believed that I was under a tight deadline, so I brainstormed this design and got to work.

The rectangular tube sections are stiffeners that transmit load from the center of the caster to gussets welded to the sides of horizontal plane members. Partly this was due to only having a limited stock of suitably thick plate. Also, not having to cut all the members out of 1/2" plate saved a lot of time and effort. I just don't have the powerful tools needed to do a lot of work efficiently with thicker gauges of metal.

It may or may not be an exaggeration to say that I have accumulated a ton of metal. Lots and lots of various sizes and wall-thicknesses of tubing. Some pretty huge stuff too. The larger tubes are barely handleable by one person, some of them weighing upward of 200lb for a 20' stick. Placing one end of the stick on a dolly reduces the handled weight to a half, but that's still no joke.

This was apparently an advertisement published by my great-uncle in a local periodical for his construction business. I wish I knew the year.
It's both endearing in its very dated depiction of an unemployed craftsman, and a good cautionary tale for my fabrication endeavors. I have a weird mental block about charging people money for things, and then sometimes I will actually overcharge someone I should have given a break, and it makes me freak out.
My charging structure is rather loosey-goosey, because the nature of my work is so varied.. Basically, I bid based on the number of hours that I think it will take to complete a project, which is historically about half of the real number of hours I spend on something, and on how pleasant the job is. If I'm going to be grinding on my back underneath someone's trailer for hours in the rain, I'll be more likely to pad my rate upward. But then there are other factors: the neighborly-discount, the elderly-person-discount, the person-I-admire-discount, the friend-discount (that one's awkward, 'cause your friends want to make sure they're not stiffing you, so it's like a tug-of-war of niceness), the crush-discount, the family-discount... The list goes on.
Regardless, I'm improving at this. If you're my customer, be of stout heart; I don't wish to exploit you, nor do I wish to undermine your confidence in my product by undervaluing it.
Maybe that's too much personal information to be spouting off on a website intended primarily for marketing purposes, but when in doubt, "the truth is generally preferable to lies".

I've been excitedly waiting to share this video of the organ bike in action:

This project has been in progress for about two years now, with a lot of procrastinating, backtracking and redesigning, but it is probably the coolest thing I've ever collaborated on. The family at Orgelkids USA has been really fun and patient to work with. Check them out at their website:
http://orgelkidsusa.org/

This organ trailer is finally coming together. Going to powdercoat tomorrow.

These beautiful bellows were made by Terry Lambert. The raised "dais" part houses a check valve for one-way air flow.

This deck project is also wrapping up. It's a deck for the back of a school bus. It folds down on heavy-duty hinges.

Some complicated multi-plane bends in this one.
This thing is mostly to prevent people from putting their hands on the acoustic panel behind it.

I hated math as a kid, with the exception of geometry. Now, I think it's cool, but maybe I'm just jumping on the bandwagon of "math is cool!"

Anyway, a project like this involves bending tube in three dimensions, which is more advanced geometry than I ever studied in school. Ultimately, I just eyeball and fudge it. When I need to, I cut, re-weld and grind down, to cover my ass. A powder coat covers a multitude of sins.

I made a sweet receiver-hitch mount for my tube bender:

 Tube bending requires a lot of force. You're stretching the outside of the tube through the curve and compressing the inside. Without the benefit of heat to soften the metal. Even with a cheater bar on the handle, I often put my full weight and strength into bending large tubes.
Thankfully, cars are really heavy! I periodically stop in to weigh stations just to make sure I'm not putting on too much truck-weight, and the last I recall, this truck (legal name: "Dakota Jesus Fanning") weighed in at 2,150kg (4750lbs). This makes for an awesome place to mount tools that have to withstand a lot of external forces, and I'm planning on taking better advantage of this in the future. It'd be a great place to mount a vise, or a bike repair stand.

Being a bit of a fantasy nerd, I'm irresistibly drawn to old-fashioned garb such as cloaks and robes. I recently acquired a cloak from my friend Dylan who moved away, but it was lacking a closure for the neck, so I set about researching traditional methods of joining the halves of such a garment. The so-called penannular brooch is an elegant solution that apparently was ubiquitous in antiquity. It is simply a pin that passes through fabric to be joined, and an attached ring that captivates the ends of the pin. A gap in the ring allows the pin to be passed through before rotating the gap away.

Bike spokes are a great material to make a lot of things out of:
-  They are abundant, about a dollar apiece at a bike shop, or free if you have a dead wheel you can salvage from. Ask your local bike shop; they will probably give you a dead wheel for free if you tell them what you're doing and aren't too obnoxious about it.
-  They are often (ideally) polished stainless steel, which makes for a pin that slides through fabric easily and doesn't corrode.
-  They are quite stiff and strong for their diameter, which is good, because an incomplete circle is a much weaker structure, mechanically speaking, than an equivalent solid ring. They are more than stiff enough to make even a large brooch, maybe up to 100mm in diameter, though that's bordering on absurdly-large-belt-buckle territory. A 100mm brooch is likely an attempt to shatter fashion conventions in a dramatic statement.

2mm spokes (the most common size you're likely to find) are great for the ring part, and can be used for the pin as well, but a skinnier pin, made from a 1.7, or 1.8mm spoke would pass through the tight weave of a modern fabric better.

For tools, all you really need are a pair of decent needlenose pliers and some sturdy wirecutters. Most consumer needlenose pliers come with mono-buttocked integral cutting blades on their jaws, which worked just fine for me, though a person of limited hand strength may wish to use cutters better suited to the task. Longer-handled needlenose pliers would be nice if you are lacking in hand strength, as 2mm spokes take a fair bit of force to bend, especially when bending the tight loop in the pin. I have a pair that I got from a free box that I can loan out if needed.

I also used:
-  A hammer and the small anvil on the back of my crappy vise.
- A bench grinder to sharpen the pin. You could conceivably use a fine file or a whetstone to sharpen it, but I suspect that would be rather tedious. If you're joining loosely-woven fabric, or something like a hand-knitted garment, you may not need to sharpen it at all, though you still may wish to soften the sharp edges left by the wire cutters.

The first step is to trim off the elbow of the spoke and the threaded end. Then cut the remainder into two pieces, one about twice as long as the other. Doesn't have to be exact. I ended up cutting off extra length later anyway.

I started with the shorter piece, bending a tight loop onto one end with the tip of the pliers:

Play around with it. You'll get a feel for how to work the wire into the shape you want.

Then to sharpen the point. I used a bench grinder to put a fine point on it, dipping it in a pot of water every few seconds to keep the heat from building up and discoloring the stainless steel (and from burning my poor little fingers).

Stainless doesn't usually spark much, so don't expect this shower of sparks.
Definitely wear safety glasses when grinding. I'm practically religious about it, and sometimes I still get irritated eyes at the end of a day of heavy grinding. Plus, stainless is non-magnetic, so the doctor won't be able to suck it out of your eyes with a magnet like they do for regular steel objects in the eye.

I also hammered the loop flat on the back of my crappy vise. Don't hammer on a nice vise please.

Then on to the ring part, or "penannulus" (heh heh, penis-anus).
Bend the longer piece of wire into a near-circle:

Cut off the extra length:

And ta-dah!

I also hammered the ends of the ring flat in an attempt to make it look a little nicer:

Then just slip the loop of the pin onto the ring and you're done!
To use the brooch, push the pin through the pieces of fabric you want to join, pass the gap in the ring over the end of the pin, and then rotate the ring to keep the pin from going back through the gap.

This picture is of version 1, which had a dangerously long, sharp pin. I cut the pin shorter and resharpened it.
Another improvement that can be made is to recurve the ends of the ring so that the pin is captivated on the ring. It also makes it look a little fancier, though my wire-work could use some refinement:

Ultimately, in the couple of hours that I have worn the cloak, I have drawn blood gouging myself on the pin multiple times. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, but I suspect that the issue is that I had to sharpen the pin really sharp to make it work with the tightly-woven fabric of the cloak. It is likely that most ancient fabrics were of a much looser weave. If you look at pictures of old brooches, they often have somewhat blunt pins.
The pin also leaves a hole in the fabric, which may massage out with time, but I suspect that repeated piercings of the fabric will eventually wear it out.
The penannular brooch is an elegant mechanism, but a more sophisticated clasp that has mating halves attached to each lapel of the cloak seems more convenient to operate, less damaging to the fabric, and safer than fumbling with a sharp pin near the neck.

Nerdmode: Engage!

A lot of my projects aren't really worth reporting on: "oh, I welded a bracket onto a piece of pipe for a guy... oh, I fixed so-and-so's spatula". Seeing as this is a bloggity blog, I suppose I should blather on at length about my personal life and all manner of other things that my sponsors indicate will improve my SEO.
Springtime is welcome. Right now it's a bit stormy; kinda nice. Fresh air from off the ocean. My neighbor's windchimes are going crazy. They always sound a bit melancholy to me, as if they are ringing after the passing of a tornado, and all the humans are dead. That notion is the product of having seen "Twister" at an impressionable age, I think.

I finally got out on the best section of the Marys this Winter, when the river was at about 10' at the Bellfountain Gauge.

It's so pretty up there. Even in the Winter, which is really the most reasonable time to paddle it.

Fair warning, there are some dangerous strainers around blind corners that absolutely require portaging. Be prepared to back-paddle and ferry to the side (all my portages are on the right, as it happens, but you may decide otherwise).

Finally got this deck frame installed on my customers' school bus. It's been fun to work with free-form curves for a change. It's a different kind of brain stimulation.
There's also a shelf that hangs off the back for mounting an air conditioning unit:

It's been my honor to do some work in the Whiteside Theatre, making a railing to bring their balcony balustrade up to coded height. It's 71' long with a gentle, sweeping curve.

Finished the bike frame for my buddy Donn. He rides a lot. This was my first time using a curved top tube.

Making a 1:10 scale model of the organ bike canopy. I really like this hyperboloid wing, but I'm going to try some other designs before committing to a big fabric purchase:

Still needs powdercoat, but pretty much done with the fabrication. This is a 7' x 7' deck for the top of the same school bus that got the solar panel rack. It's been fun to work on something that has some free-form lines to it. Gave me a chance to experiment with my tube roller.
I'll put up pictures of the finished deck when it's installed.

There are removable 6' posts that sleeve into receivers on the deck to make a safety railing and for hanging rope lights. When stowed, they fit under the eaves of the deck and are captivated in place by a clevis pin, mocked up in the photo with a piece of 1/2" tubing.

Other ostensibly interesting projects are a modular bike trailer for my friend Austin, who wants a set of trailer hardware that can be bolted onto an aluminum extrusion frame. Taking a leaf out of the automotive design book, we opted to use spherical rod-end bearings to allow for different configurations of the tongue.

I also finished up a quick bike trailer project for a local naturalist and ecological restorian to haul native plants and horticultural implements into the bush:

The organ trailer is nearing completion. The only major design element left to finish is a canopy to protect the rider and instrument from the sun and unexpected rain showers. I'm currently reaching out to textile experts for consultation on tensioned fabric structures. If anyone out there in cyber land has experience or inclination toward designing tensioned-fabric things, please let me know.
Anyway, here's what I have so far, just about ready for powder coat:

This took several months from initial phone calls to the final installation, but it paid off when everything ended up working the way it was intended and I learned a lot about pneumatics in the process.

The idea was to have solar panels stored beneath other solar panels that could be deployed on slides when the vehicle is parked. Since the bus has an onboard air system for the brakes, wipers, door-opener, etc, it was a worthwhile step to deploy the panels with air cylinders.
The extra large panels, 310W apiece, measuring 990 x 1640mm (39" x 65") required the use of some very pricey outdoor-rated drawer slides.  I recommend if you're considering a similar project, use narrower panels so that you can use more readily available components.