Thomas Spring, near the head of Pottershop Hollow, has never gone dry or frozen over.

In 1956, some of the land was sold off as surplus property and this 720-acre parcel has been under our family’s stewardship since 1971. As one of the oldest certified tree farms in the state, it comprises an amazing diversity of oak, hickory, ash, cherry, walnut, elm, sassafras, persimmon, sycamore, maple, locust, mulberry, Osage orange, and eastern red cedar. A great place to bring up a family, and not a bad place for a sawmill! When you hear mention of “Pottershop Hollow” in one of my videos, I hope you will have an idea of what a special place this is.

Sawmilling has a long history in these parts. In the post-Civil War era, timber was cut for railroad ties. When soldiers returned home after WWII, it was again harvested for new housing. With the best timber sold off, most of the surrounding land was cleared for cattle grazing. With its thin, rocky soil on the hilltops and steep slopes on the edge of the Ozark Mountains, Pottershop Hollow was spared that fate and is now a forest island, surrounded by neighboring pastures and hayfields. While agricultural runoff has affected the water quality, making it less suitable for human consumption, the spring remains a cherished gathering place for family reunions and moments of solitude. It’s a place where one can enjoy the calls of blue jays and the hammering of woodpeckers. Remarkably, the spring has never run dry or frozen over, continuing to provide water for the wildlife that inhabits the area.

“Old Henry”, my 1953 8N Ford has pulled many a log out of the woods and loaded them on the mill. Just after this picture was taken, I realized that I hadn’t raised the log stops and the log rolled off the other side of the mill.

When I got my first band sawmill, there were no YouTube videos or social media channels to guide my sawmill journey. I learned by trial and error—lots of errors! I bet any sawyer can describe cutting the first board on a mill. I remember taking a deep breath, throttling up the engine, and just as the blade touched the log, there was a loud BANG! After shutting down the engine, I found part of the blade sticking out through the front shield, twisted into a pretzel around the band wheel axle so tight that I had to cut it off. Ever since then, I’ve remembered to tension the blade before cutting.

I think everyone who has run a sawmill has looked at the aftermath of a lapse in judgment and wondered, “What was I thinking?” Ignore a blue stain at the bottom of an oak log, and you’re bound to slice through metal, fence wire if you’re lucky, but more likely a nail or bolt. There’s no better metal detector than a new band saw blade! If you want to start a conversation with a sawyer, just ask what the most interesting thing they’ve hit while milling a log. The metal strike doesn’t always come from the log, though. Leaving the log stops too high invites a memorable encounter with the blade. I figure there are two types of sawyers: those who will cut into the log stops, and those who will do it again—usually when someone is watching.

There was a terrible screeching sound when I cut this notch in the log stop. The blade made quite a racket, too

On the other hand, the log stops can be too low, especially when loading a log on the mill or turning the log with hydraulics. I’ve had to reload more than one log on the mill after it rolled over the log stops. Gravity is always turned on, and it doesn’t care where anyone is standing when a log tumbles off the mill. Good judgment, it is said, comes from experience… and experience comes from bad judgment.

For example, the first time I had to back the blade out of a cut, it just made sense that it would be easier with the blade spinning. Before I could react, the blade came off the band wheels, and I had another addition to my growing collection of steel pretzels. I now keep a couple of plastic felling wedges in the sawmill toolbox to open up the kerf when backing the blade out of a cut. By the way, not raising the blade enough to clear the top board on the cant when returning the saw carriage is another dramatic way to destroy a blade. As soon as the back side of the blade hits the wood, off it comes.

The blue stain was a clear indication of metal in the log—but it was walnut. I decided to charge extra for the lumber. After all, when’s the last time you saw walnut with a metal inlay?

Some of the more interesting experiences come from the expectation that people around you will use even basic common sense. Everyone wants to help around the mill. At best, it can be a distraction, like when, after repeated warnings, someone stands in line with the sawdust chute while the mill is cutting. Once, while putting on a new blade, a customer decided to help by giving the blade a sharp pull, dragging the razor-sharp teeth across the palm of my left hand. Sure, it would have been good judgment to wear gloves, but now, if anyone even looks like they’re going to touch the blade while I’m replacing it, I shoo ‘em away.

This anchor bolt was a real saw-stopper. Hitting it sideways like that, the blade didn’t stand a chance!

Sawmilling isn’t for everyone, but those of us who choose to slice up logs—either for fun and profit or as full-time work—are part of a pretty tight-knit group. Like amateur radio and flying (two other interests of mine), when you’re around other sawyers, you’re among friends. There is always camaraderie, friendship, shared experiences, and plenty of free advice. Whether it’s trucks, chainsaws, or sawmills, pride in expertise and brand loyalty runs high. Whether you fell timber with a Humboldt notch, open-face bore cut, or Dutchman, and whether you pull the logs out of the woods with a Timberjack skidder or an old 8N Ford, there are stories to be told. Friendly advice from sawyers and technical savvy from Norwood’s support team will get you up and running if you’re a new sawyer, and we “old-timers” have a lot of tricks and experience to share with anyone who will listen. And we listen, too, and learn from sawyers with all levels of experience! Looking at many of the social media posts by Norwood sawmill owners, it looks like there’s a whole new generation that will soon be sharing their experiences as well. I look forward to reading, watching, and hearing about your sawmilling journey.