The bandsaw detective

           

This is the culprit

The longer I do woodworking the more I’m drawn to hand tools.  I know you’ve heard this before and the last couple of weeks have pushed me even farther in the direction I was already going. I do like the speed and efficiency of machines, particularly my bandsaw. If I had only one power machine in the shop it would be the bandsaw.  So, I was not happy when, just before Christmas, I managed to launch part of a log off the saw and bend the blade. I’m not sure what happened; there was a piece of loose bark that chose to separate itself from the main part of the piece as it went through the saw. Anyway, no harm done to me, or the wall. The saw, however, complained vociferously when I turned it back on and I decided to finish the job with hand tools. I was making the letters ‘X, Y, Z’ as props for the children’s Christmas Eve service at church and I had forgotten that I agreed to do it. Since we were leaving on Dec 23 for a Christmas visit, I found myself in the shop on Dec 22 as the sun set. I got the letters done and delivered later that evening.

            I left the problem with the bandsaw until Thursday when Richard graciously agreed to take a look at it. I just run the things: I don’t know how they work. First we did some cleaning up and took off the blade.  Then R took off the top wheel. In addition to the bent blade, the bearings in the top wheel were shot i.e. the bits that should have been turning weren’t. I managed to grasp that concept. The next question became what to do about it. Enter good old Google. There was a number on the bearing, so I looked that up. Turns out there are several different kinds of bearings with that number. What kind do I need? No idea. I called one place and after five minutes on hold I hung up.  I looked on the website of another place that had previously helped me out when I needed to buy some key stock for the bottom of the bandsaw because the piece that was in place fell out and I couldn’t find it.  According to their catalogue, they had the part I needed. Yipee!  I headed out yesterday with the bandsaw wheel in hand. When I explained to the very nice guy behind the counter what I needed he informed me that they no longer carry bearings and can only special order them. He didn’t recommend that because if I happened to order the wrong one, I’d be on the hook for it and it would take a while to get it in. 

            He volunteered that there was a place just across the parking lot called Transmission Supply. I thanked him, wished him a good day and trudged across the parking lot without my gloves. With the windchill it was only about -11 but when you’re holding onto a rather large aluminum wheel without gloves on your hands it’s a wee mite chilly on the pinkies.

            I wasn’t sure of what to expect having never darkened the door of a transmission place before. There was a young man behind the counter and a man on his phone in line ahead of me. When I came in the man on the phone moved aside for me. I showed the guy behind the counter the wheel with the bearing in it. He told me that there were two types I could use. I could use the same type that was in there already or I could use a higher quality sealed bearing. It didn’t take me long to opt for the second option. He said they would likely last longer. Granted I’ve had the bandsaw for about 10 years and haven’t had to replace the bearings until now, but if I don’t have to do it for the next 20 I’ll be very happy. He checked the size of the bearings with a calliper and brought me the replacement ones. They were about nine bucks a piece, not expensive in my books. That saw is the workhorse of my shop.

            Now I had the new bearings and the wheel with the old bearings in it. I know nothing about bearing pullers and I don’t especially want to learn. He suggested I could put it outside in the cold for a couple of hours and then bring it in to room temperature and gently try to tap the bearings out. This really didn’t sound like a fun project to me so I asked if there was any place he knew of where I could get the bearings changed.  He suggested Humphrey Industrial Repairs and gave me directions as to how to get there. The wheel, the bearings and I headed off.

            At Humphrey Industrial Repairs there were a couple of small offices and I went into the first one on the right. The other had a man sitting behind a desk whereas the one I entered had a counter, looked more like the place where visitors ought to go. There were signs all over about shop rates starting at a minimum of $80 and going up from there. It was worth it to me to have someone who knew what he was doing swap out the bearings in a timely manner. Another pleasant young man (they all look like they are about 12 these days) came into the room and I explained what I needed.  He looked at his watch and asked if I could return in half an hour. I could and I did.

            He came out of the back with the old bearings in one hand and the wheel with the new bearings installed in the other. He asked me if I wanted the old ones. I declined. I don’t have a trophy case for old bearings. When I asked him how much I owed him he waved it away. When I asked him if he was sure he said he was absolutely sure. One of today’s jobs is to put a blade back on the saw and get it back into working order.

            When I started the day yesterday, I was decidedly cranky. Why is it one can drive a car without needing to know how to maintain or fix it but when one takes up woodworking one is required to maintain and fix one’s machines? If some eager young sprout wanted to set up a travelling fix-it shop for woodworking machines I would be his or her first cheerleader and loyal customer. In the meantime, in a world where Australia is burning and a plane of civilians is shot out of the skies, three people who did their jobs with kindness and generosity made a difference to my day. I can’t put out the fires or comfort the relatives of those who were killed in the plane crash, but I hope I can remember to treat the people I meet in the course of a day the way those strangers who were ‘just doing their jobs’ treated me.