Forging Bonds: A Metalworking Workshop with My Dad

Posted on June 28, 2024

My Dad, who is happily retired, always has time for new hobbies and learning endeavors. While on the hunt for something new to master, he stumbled upon a workshop in Pennsylvania where you can step back in time and craft your very own medieval weapons. He often talked about it, so I surprised him with a workshop gift card as a Christmas gift. I am no medieval warrior, but I, too, always seek to learn new skills. PLUS, any time spent with Dad is an added bonus. I looked forward to joining him for the 2–3-hour metalwork experience.

The day of our adventure arrived. We made it to the facility, and before us were four forges (the ovens), four anvils, along with various hammers and tongs. On a large wooden table were multiple styles of knives, laid out from beginner craftsmen to experts, with the price climbing the more elaborate the blade. We picked out the $150 knives with bare, twisted steel handles. The material our knives would be constructed from were heavy railroad spikes. The safety gear consisted of safety glasses, leather gloves (not heat resistant), and foam earplugs. After a lengthy talk about preventive measures, we suited up and were ready to begin.

The skilled staff members demonstrated the following essential steps. First, we’d heat our railroad spike in the forge until it glowed red. Then, we’d carefully use the tongs to remove it and start shaping it with a hammer. The repetitive hammer strikes would stretch the metal, making it longer, wider, and flatter. Once the spike started cooling, it was time to return it to the forge. Between each use, the tongs were submerged in large buckets filled to the brim with water. Otherwise, the metal tongs continuously absorbed the meltingly hot fire, staying heated and in danger of leaving burns to our arms and hands.

The staff was helpful, but my dad was my most prominent advocate for the tools I needed, where to take them, and how to stay safe. My natural brain state is scattered, leaving me easily overwhelmed. This is the opposite of what’s needed when working with crafting dangerous pointy objects from blazing-hot materials in a shared space. Dad took the time to make clear what my brain bungled through. Being there with my dad meant I had a teammate in this physical battle of man vs. metal—well, woman vs. metal, in my case. Funny enough, I was the only woman there. Dad has never made me feel like I didn’t belong, regardless of gender or ability.

Drawing out the blade was exhausting work. The process could be accelerated using a “power hammer.” The power hammer was much more effective than the mortal effort of striking metal by hand. The staff activated the electrical motor while I guided my blossoming knife around the work area. It smooshed it with hefty force. Dad, however, was determined to make his entire blade by hand. While mine began whizzing along, thanks to modern technology, Dad continued to sweat through the manual process. Once I caught up on my work, I could assist him in getting his done. I took over the responsibility of pulling his spike out of the forge with the tongs, using BOTH HANDS for extra stability. This made it even easier for him to draw the blade out with the hammer while I kept it steady on the anvil.

At some point, we took a lunch break. Smoked sausage was the meal provided for everyone taking the class. We cooked the cold meat in the metal forge while our blades rested. The experience was similar to a campfire, except we passed the time by throwing handmade axes at wooden targets instead of singing songs and telling scary stories. Axe throwing was something I had participated in before, so it was fun to show off the little I had remembered from the past. I had a friendly competition with another participant as we tried to hit a business card on the wall. Although he bested me, I was happy to hold my own.

We returned to work and spent the rest of the day finishing our pieces. We used a paint pen to trace the final shape we wanted directly onto the blade. That desired final shape was achieved by sanding away any excess metal with beastly belt sanders. All that remained were a few more final touches, including a brilliant polish. My dad and I were thrilled with the experience and our final products. The knives are heavy and impractical but worth every penny. Mine is currently on display on a stand, and I use it to open Amazon packages. Although the blade may be dull, I hope the exciting memory of its creation remains sharp. I wonder what adventure my dad and I will go on next!