No, I’m not talking about 1960s muscle cars, rare oil paintings by Dutch Masters or some cultural treasures that were buried in caves during WWII. What I’m talking about actually is wood. You know, boards, slabs, rough-sawn timbers, and burls. Stuff that has been gathering dust, having birds and bats nest in it, and miraculously avoiding being ravaged by the elements for decades. “Grandpa, what were you thinking?”. That kind of stuff!
Such is the history and circumstance of some hardwoods and softwoods I was recently introduced to. Where?, you ask. “Ridgefield, Washington”, I reply. A bit north of Vancouver and a bit west of I-5 sits a smallish red barn that houses a fantastic collection of slabs, boards and timbers meticulously stacked with sticker and ready for inspection and selection by professional and wannabe woodworkers alike. If you can think of it, it’s probably there. And, in spades.
Monkey pod anyone?
A sample of the slabs in the little red barn.