2005 Ridgway Rendezvous
Thursday
The Ridgway Rendezvous, held in Ridgway, PA, at the end of February, is the largest chainsaw carving rendezvous in the world. Carvers from all over the planet attend and spend half a week socializing, watching demos or classes, and carving statues that are auctioned for Make-a-Wish and the Ridgway YMCA on Saturday afternoon. This year's auction raised $42,000 on the work of 210 carvers.
(Official website of the 2005 Ridgway Rendezvous: Opens in a new window)
I had been thinking about what I was going to carve on and off since last year's Vous. In 2004, I carved the first of several Celtic-inspired pieces, decorating a flat surface with knot work. Subsequent carvings had taken the flat work about as far as I was interested in going, so I was looking to do something different this year. Big wood, focused carving time, and input from 200 other carvers makes the Vous a good place to experiment.
Planned carving: A 3D interpretation of the flat Cross of Clomacnois.
Temperature drops steadily throughout the drive, and then precipitously as evening approaches. Looking at the map does not prepare me for the mountains; no snow on the ground until I left the interstate system and headed north on 219, at which point it is significant.
Scenery is pretty, and coming up through the Piedmont is much better than driving around the Beltline and risking DC's traffic disasters. Next year: Start earlier. It is nice to be driving a Tahoe, as I get used to it. Not sure of how it compares in price to my S10 but I suspect it’s too much. Hit the WVa line and realize I’ve left my winter hat and gloves on the hall table; get to PA and realize I intended to bring a penguin but he’s still sitting on the porch. Should not be rearranging a packed car at 10 PM, even if getting the third row seats out of the truck did save the day and make the ride much safer.
Arrive at 8:30, in time to meet a fair number of carvers at the fireman’s hall but too late for dinner. Get a hamburger at the Tavern. Food helps but it can’t counter miles of straight-through driving, stopping only for bathroom breaks and drinks. Crash hard. Remember, at the last minute, to bring my boots in from the car. Steel-toes overnight at 12 degrees will not be fun to wear.
Forgot to check alarm clock, which goes off at 5:30. Ready to get up anyway; do my morning routine and am out of the hotel before 7 AM. Temperature registers 19 degrees on the Tahoe’s rear view mirror.
Check the carving spot Brett Butler pointed out to me last night but there was no-one on the field yet so I went to the Pensey for breakfast and a little more daylight. Carvers trickle in; the non-drinkers running the first shift. Meet Jay Bowman, new carver from Kill Devil Hills, NC, who is a preacher filling a year away from church with carving.. Someone complains about the index of Carve Smart but I don’t think it’s as far off as he said it was. User error?
After breakfast, I set up my tent in a space on the Fireman's Field, an alternatively frozen or muddy area across from the Ridgway YMCA. Once the truck was unloaded and parked, it was time to select a log. Carvers arriving earlier had already taken the biggest logs; the one I picked was healthy enough, albeit very muddy.
Ken Sheen, a carver from British Columbia, and I split a log. He is standing next to my half.
The frozen mud was so bad that we only got three cuts through the log before the chain was completely dull and wouldn't cut at all.
It's wonderful to have forklifts to do the log hauling and tipping-up. At home, I usually have to do a lot of work flat to get enough weight off the log to get it vertical. However, forklift freedom backfires and a few minutes of looking at my log lets me see I've taken too much. Accept this, and take off almost a foot before I start. Elsewise, I'm doing too much major carving too high in the air.
First cut goes wrong—too thin—and that is OK. Made the major mistake up front; recoverable; protects against thinking this piece will be perfect. Get to it.
Brad Sharp working on Matt 19:14 Suffer the little children, midway through Thursday.
Snow starts just before lunch and by 5 pm, it is cold and unpleasant and my mood is suffering. Last year, I layered between long john shirt + T-Shirt and a sweater over; this year, the layering is a full winter coat or a winter down vest. (Note--no "in-progress" pictures of me in the red coat; when I had to wear that coat, it was too cold for anyone to wander around and watch the carvers.) Buy a hat and wool gloves from the Army Navy Surplus store after lunch. If I were at home, we’d be bundling in and staying home for the evening; here we are running chainsaws and sharpening chains and carving. At 4:45, I quit—one too many thoughts about “just one more” which is always a danger sign.
Two hours after leaving the field, and after a shower, I can still smell diesel fuel.
Feeling tired, overwhelmed, perhaps on the edge of sick—should have used a dust mask to get the bark off today—and I don’t need to go out in the cold with wet hair. Stay in for the evening and skip the dinner at the Moose Lodge.
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