The second part (or first, if you're counting) of my foray into blacksmithing. Gah, I should probably explain that.

Part the First: Was information gathering. Acquisition and subsequent perusal of half a dozen books on blacksmithing. I haven't read them cover to cover because, well, I have other things to do, but there has been what I'll call "heavy skimming". They're from various time periods, and vary greatly in how they deal with the subject, but as with other academic pursuits, the more sources you have, the better picture you can piece together. I've also spent many, many hours online researching at different sites, places like:

Anvilfire [link]
the Artist Blacksmith's Association of America [link]
and the Alabama Forge Council [link]

There are a host of good articles and general pieces of information at these sites, most especially Anvilfire. There are articles on choosing the proper anvil, the proper weight and shape of hammer, and moreover a plethora of what NOT to do. Like, don't set out to make a sword. Don't make that your ultimate goal, because there is a LOT of work to do before you get anywhere near there.

There's a reason traditional swords cost so much, and were often passed along family lines: they are difficult to make well. There are hundreds of years of refinements that go into making a quality weapon, and there are thousands more years of tool-making that preceded it. Do it because you want to learn.

I feel like I have at least a top-level, vague concept of the basic operations that one might perform in such a trade, along with the basic tools and apparati involved.

Which led to...

Part the Second: Talking to real live blacksmiths. I touched on my encounter with Grover Richardson at the Florence Renaissance Festival in my last entry. Yesterday, Sunday, I went to the monthly meeting of the Alabama Forge Council. This is the local chapter of the ABANA. They meet at a place called Burritt Museum [link] , a living history museum, complete with (I know you're surprised) a smithy.

On this particular day, I found Ronald Thomas, the forgemaster for this chapter, already at work making a set of fire pokers for a local library benefit. Mr. Thomas is a retired engineer, and works as a volunteer at the museum off and on during the week, and most weekends. And he was alone. There were a few scattered families and visitors that wandered through over the next 3 hours, but no other members of the AFC made it.

So it was just he and myself, which was actually pretty awesome. Once he found out that a) I was there for the meeting, and b) I was interested in blacksmithing, but had yet to put a hammer to iron, he immediately put me to work. He made me his striker, and we drew out the square stock he was working into fireplace pokers. This was quite generous of him, because not only was he trusting me with pounding hot metal bare inches from him, he willingly took my horribly unpracticed results in his stride. I suppose such easy acceptance comes from years of having school children come through and asking for a whack at the iron.

While I hit the iron every time (and I use the term iron generically, as I am finding most smiths do, to mean any metal being worked, in this case mild steel), I was too tall for the anvil, which you should just be able to rest your knuckled hand on. I am at least a foot taller than Mr. Thomas, so I was a little out of the optimum strike zone. Added to that my inexperienced blows, used only to drive nails home into 2x4s (which are much more forgiving of placement), rendered the work with a funny angle after several sets of drawing. Mr. Thomas explained that my uneven striking, all over the piece rather than dead flat in the middle, was imparting this twist. But in his ease, he laughingly assured me that it could be corrected. Part of the beauty of worked metal is that if you do screw up, you can likely reheat it and go again.

So I spent three hours, mostly just listening, occasionally asking questions, and watching how Mr. Thomas interacted with the shop, the work, and the people that came through, wanting to see an old-timey blacksmith shop. We talked about how the green coal changes into coke, and what clinker is and why it is to be detested. He showed me pieces he had made: screwdrivers, wall hooks, nails, S-hooks, and the like. Small, easy projects which he could do comparatively quickly while maintaining the attention of a crowd. He also showed me pictures of a few larger pieces he had participated in as part of a larger workshop. This was all presented with the humble earnestness of an experienced teacher.

I'll attend a few more meetings at local forges, so as to speak with more blacksmiths, and glean what I can from them about practicalities like where to get steel and coal, anvils and hammers, tongs and parts for a forge. Then I can begin:

Part the Third: The Quickening... I mean, Building My Smithy