Historic preservation of axes doesn’t always mean simply protecting the vintage axes produced by early manufacturers. Protection of the factual historical record of those manufacturers is of the utmost importance as well, but even that won’t perpetuate interest in the topic or continue to protect the rich heritage that is American axe manufacturing. Just like stories passed down through the generations by our early ancestors as they sat around the campfire, and hymns sung to youngsters by their mothers and fathers as they grew, the passing of axe manufacturing techniques to newer generations by American craftsmen keeps the history of axe making alive. With modern techniques of mass production tuned towards quantity over quality, and mechanization removing the true craftsman from the “making” process, this organic progression of ancient ideas through the generations has been all but lost, except in the veins and arteries of a few hardy blacksmiths and enthusiasts. Late last year I was sent an invitation to visit one of these invaluable assets of the axe community: Hoffman Blacksmithing. Though logistically it took a few months to set all the pieces into place, this past week I was finally able to visit their amazing workshop in Roan Mountain, Tennessee.
Upon arrival, I was surprised to realize that the inconspicuous shop, nestled in the center of a tiny little town just over the border from North Carolina, was one I had passed many times as it’s located on the route I have taken many times on my way to a favorite hiking and camping location near a parking area for the Appalachian Trail. No smokestack billowing dark vapor scars the horizon, and though the sounds of drop hammers pounding away were definitely present, the sound was intermittent, and the vibe of a mass production unit doesn’t rape the community’s rural atmosphere. Inside the shop I was met by a crew of the most hospitable and generous craftspeople imaginable, all with a lofty enthusiasm about what they do. Liam Hoffman, the owner of the business, and Colton Kilgore, head of the company’s marketing department and creative director, immediately gave me a grand tour of the facility. Every department had one thing in common: a focus on crafting the best product possible using historic methods coupled with modern technology. In the forging room were 100 year old drop hammers from the Bradley Manufacturing Company of Syracuse, New York, and the Lobdell Company of Wilmington, Delaware. These impressive old workhorses have been renovated and modified to reap the historic benefits of their manufacturing abilities while being improved for modern use by the staff there at Hoffman.
The handle room, where the massively popular “Hoffman Handles” take form, includes a vintage duplicating handle lathe, modified with vibration dampeners and other modern improvements that were added to advance the tolerances of the handles produced. Mercer, the gentleman whose experience and craftmanship maximizes the production from the lathe, was kind enough to show me the process he uses to carve out the forms that will eventually be some of the most beautiful modern axe handles that can be had. The tool shop uses both vintage and modern grinding set ups for finishing heads, and is also the area where the engineering minds of the company craft tools, dies, and modifications for the equipment, improving both the machines and the processes used on site, and decreasing overhead due to exporting solutions to other locations and businesses. The leather works, where masks and sheaths are produced, likewise showed signs of traditional manufacturing equipment coupled with modern techniques and devices.
After the tour of the facility, we headed back to the forging room, where my research of historic American forging techniques was about to blossom into a better understanding of actual techniques and methods. While I watched in amazement, Liam, assisted by Tristen, whose heritage originates in the knife making world, went to work. Previously heated and formed heads made up simply of a rectangular shape with the eye punched through were heated for a second time. After this second heating, in a flurry of precise movements like a choreographed and well-rehearsed dance routine, the heads quickly took the form of a lugged axe head. The pace was so rapid that I honestly did not realize the extent of the work
until the formed head was dropped into a pile of heads in front of me, and the magicians who had flown through the process stopped for questions. It was ever so apparent that both Liam and Tristen’s movements, though nonchalant, were the product of an amazing amount of practice, expertise, and well thought out engineering. On the second go-round, I was able to catch more of what was occurring: the spreading of the cheeks while hammering, the elongation of the bit, the reforming of the eye and lugs as they distended, and the flattening of the cheeks once again. I was given the opportunity to flatten one of the forms using the big Nazell hammer, the feeling of steel on steel being not what I had expected. Liam’s description suits it best, as a feeling of
pounding on clay. The moment of impact was both mind opening and terrifying for a researcher who has read over 150 years of accounts of historic axe forgers accidentally injured by power hammers such as this one, pulled into rotating belts, or dispatched by exploding grindstones! Luckily, the combination of historic machinery and modern wisdom and experience truly left no danger, and the moment was survived with nothing but amazement and a better understanding of what some of my historic axe making heroes may have experienced. A discussion with Liam about the history of the equipment he uses slammed home his respect for the machines as well as their origins,
showing an intimate connection between craftsman and tools, something I had not expected prior to my visit. After a number of heads had taken shape, we retreated to the rear of the workshop, where an impressive break area is set up for staff. There the discussion moved to specifics of the company, staff histories, and a viewing of some “experimental” handles. Every second of the visit was a display of the amount of thought, time, and love that has been put into this modest business and its products.
As I left the workshop after my visit, my mind was a flurry of emotions, thoughts, and ideas, though I have to admit that the most dominant feeling was of hope. That may seem an odd feeling to have after a visit to a manufacturing facility, so I’ll explain. That vibe sprung from hope that traditional axe manufacturing techniques weren’t completely eradicated by the push towards mechanization and mass production in the 1970s and 80s. A hope that going forward, not all axes would be of lower quality, with no attention to the form or finish of a tool that has been noted as the most influential tool to the face of the nation. Hope that remnants of the era of axe manufacturing I, and so many others, love, will continue to flow into the hot steel heads being produced by skilled American hands. Hope that American craftsmanship will continue to flow from this modest shop nestled in the corner of Tennessee, fueled by the hearts of some of America’s last great traditional axe craftsmen and women. I look forward to learning, and writing, more about Liam, Colton, and all of the men and women who support Hoffsman Blacksmithing, as they truly are preserving axe history in a way that very few can and do, and I hope all reading this do as well!