First, Let’s Assume That I Suck

A teacher’s hand settles the toe of a student’s plane.

When I bought my first old Stanley bench planes in 1997, I read every article and book I could find about tuning them up.

First step: Flatten the sole. To do this, I bought some loose silicon carbide grit (I don’t recommend it), some honing oil and found a discarded wing from a table saw. I rubbed the plane’s sole on that wing covered with the oily, gritty slop for 10-20 minutes. Then I cleaned it off and checked the sole to see if it was flat.

I did this with a machinist’s straightedge and feeler gauges, probing its sole like a little cast-iron space alien that I’d abducted from the local cow field.

More rubbing of the sole on the oily grit. More checking. Is a .002"-gap worth worrying about? The books didn’t say.

Then I wonder: Why am I doing this? (“I read it in a book.”) Was the plane misbehaving or not working correctly? (“Um, I haven’t used the plane.”) Do you know what a misbehaving plane behaves like, Chris? (“No, this is my fi…