Who else uses a scythe?

Thanks 42 - our last posts crossed but you already anticipated my second post. I'll stay at it with penetrating oil for a while. There is no hurry. If I have to make new nibs what should I start with? Like a dowel of sufficient diameter or shovel handle or whatever?

I have yet to attempt making new grips, in part because the interior of them is bored out in a conical fashion and I have yet to find what I consider an appropriate bit for the job. Also insetting the nut would be a pain. Birch is traditional for the wood, though.

It sounds like the grips on those nibs are completely shot, though. You'll either need to make new ones or get some replacements.
 
Hi FortyTwoBlades - Some progress here - I have it all apart. As you can see I decided, since the nibs were both split anyway, to split them the rest of the way to get them off. All of the metal parts seem to be usable with a little TLC.
I am thinking I could still use these nibs - they will never turn their respective nut, but if I glue them back together, cut off enough of the top of each one to expose the nut so I can use a washer under said nut and a wrench on the nut itself, and maybe a cord wrap around the nibs to keep them together,they might work. What do you think.

Then there is the snath itself. I do not know if I could sand it enough to look pretty like some I see pictured on your threads but I can try. And the obvious problem will be the loss of wood at the low end of the snath here all the hardware mounts. You told me once about using some plastic water hose to shim it all up or I suppose I could cut two inches off the end and start new, but that may make the whole tool too short.

You have already been a great help and I thank you for that - hopefully you will have some more advice for me now that you can see the pieces.

I don't know where in Maine you are, but I'm headed for Allagash in 5 days for a week. The scythe probably will not be done until after then. Have a great day!

Thanks again.

Steve
 
Youch--the end on that is in pretty rough shape. Is that rot that I see on it? Looks pretty punky to me. If so, you could maybe try using some wood hardener on the end of it, but if that doesn't work you'd need to cut it down and rework the end. Maybe plug the old carriage bolt hole with a flush-cut dowel + wood glue. You'd lose a couple inches, but that would just mean that you'd have to shift the nibs up on the snath a bit (so resize the bands and you'd be set.) If you're handy that sort of way you could try your hand at making your own wooden tapered reamer with a screwed-on strip of steel cutting edge to bore out your own grips. But like I said, that could be a bit of a pain. Or just use a series of drill bits, though the stepped form wouldn't be as strong as a straight tapered one.
 
I have yet to attempt making new grips, in part because the interior of them is bored out in a conical fashion and I have yet to find what I consider an appropriate bit for the job.

What about using a series of bits? Shallow with a 3/8", little deeper with a 5/16", etc. I done that with drawknife and file handles and it worked fine. I got it close with the drill bits and then burned it in hot. Nice tight fit.
 
In order to do a stepped job properly (it's very easy to do them overly weak since I'm not burning the finished taper) I'd need a drill press. I'm planning on picking one up, but it's a little ways off yet--I'd want a good one, and I need to wait on the Baryonyx Machete project first before I can earmark more funds. Then after I've got a drill press I'll be commissioning a custom stake anvil designed for scythe repair. :)
 
Photos of the fully restored shaft, complete with collar assembly. The fit of the collar has been improved and the fittings fully cleaned and dressed. Just gotta' do the nibs and blade now and this baby will be ready to ROCK! :)

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The Col Defender blade looks a little like mine. The picture shows the bottom of the blade, the part against the ground, and the bevel looks
very narrow. Perhaps not all American blades were laminated, requiring an equal bevel on both sides? Compare
this sharpening video: http://youtu.be/SXgOgjbVoJg which says to scoop
out a concave shape whose edge is gradually worked and honed off until it looks a little like mine when I got it.
I have my blade off to a sharpening place, hoping they indeed do these all the time (for Old Order Mennonites).
I plan to call them to see if they can also bend the tang. Is there a way to calculate a numerical angle to request
for that bend if I aspire to mow a lawn of 12 to 15 inch grass?
 
The Col Defender blade looks a little like mine. The picture shows the bottom of the blade, the part against the ground, and the bevel looks
very narrow. Perhaps not all American blades were laminated, requiring an equal bevel on both sides? Compare
this sharpening video: http://youtu.be/SXgOgjbVoJg which says to scoop
out a concave shape whose edge is gradually worked and honed off until it looks a little like mine when I got it.
I have my blade off to a sharpening place, hoping they indeed do these all the time (for Old Order Mennonites).
I plan to call them to see if they can also bend the tang. Is there a way to calculate a numerical angle to request
for that bend if I aspire to mow a lawn of 12 to 15 inch grass?

Not all American blades are laminated, but many are. However, the video you posted is for continental European pattern blades, which are a totally different style of blade with different maintenance. For an example of what traditional blade grinding looks like, see these Swedish videos HERE, though the blade pattern is not identical. I personally use a belt sander rather than a wheel.

For a lawn you'd want the blade pretty parallel to the ground. You'll need some help if you want to measure the specific angle. Adjust the snath like I detail in my guide and then hold the
scythe while leaning just slightly forward, with the bend coming from the hips rather than the back (this keeps your back straight) and rest the spine of the blade at the heel on the ground. The angle from the ground to the mounting hardware will be the angle needed to bring the blade parallel. It's better to have them under-bend it than over-bend it, though.
 
Stumbled upon this lovely little story on, of all things, a Swedish scythe site:

When Life Was Young At the Old Farm in Maine
Author: C. A. Stephens

One of the hired men was no less a personage than Elder Witham, who preached at the Chapel every second week, and who, like the great apostle of the Gentiles, was not above working with his hands, to piece out his small salary. He came Sunday evening, and I did not suppose that he had come to work with us till the next morning, when, after prayers, he quietly fetched his scythe and snath down from the wagon-house chamber, and called on Halstead to turn the grindstone for him.

I then learned that he had worked at haying for us three summers. The Elder was fifty years old or more, and, though well-tanned, had yet a semi-clerical appearance. He was austere in religious matters, and the hired men were very careful what they said before him. The other two men, who came after breakfast, were brothers, named James and Asa Doane, or Jim and Ase, as they were familiarly addressed. I was reckoned too young to mow with a scythe, though Halse and Addison mowed for an hour or two in the forenoon. I had plenty to do, however, raking, spreading, and stowing the hay in the barn.

In haying time we boys were called at half-past four o'clock every morning, with the hired men. It was our business to milk and do the barn chores before breakfast. Often, too, there would be a load of hay, drawn in the previous evening, to stow away, in addition to the chores. Mowing machines and horse-rakes had not then come into general use. All the mowing was done with scythes, and the raking with hand rakes and "loafer" rakes. Generally, all hands would be busy for three hours every bright afternoon, raking the grass which had been cut down in the forenoon. The Old Squire and the Elder commonly raked side by side, and often fell into argument on the subject of man's free moral agency, on which they held somewhat diverse views.

Upon the second afternoon, Asa Doane maneuvered to get them both into a yellow-backed bumble-bees' nest, which was under an old stump in the hay. The Elder was just saying, "I tell you, Squire, man was designed for--" when a yellow-back stung him on his neck, and he finished his sentence with a rather funny exclamation! Another insect punched Gramp at almost the same moment, and they had a lively time of it, brandishing their rakes, and throwing the hay about. The others raked on, laughing inwardly without seeming to notice their trouble. But that night after supper, while we were grinding scythes, the Elder called Gramp out behind the barn, and I overheard him very gravely ask, in an undertone, "Squire, when we were amongst those bumble-bees, this afternoon, I hope I didn't say anything unbecoming a minister. I was a reckless young man once, Squire; and even now, when anything comes acrost me sudden, like those bumble-bees, the old words are a-dancing at my tongue's end before I know they are there. "Because, if I did make a mistake," he continued, "I want to make public confession of it before these young men." But the Squire had been too busy with his own bumble-bees to remember. So the matter passed, by default of evidence; but the Elder felt uneasy about it, and watched our faces pretty sharply for a day or two.

The heat troubled me not a little, and I then knew no better than to drink inordinately of cold water. I would drink every five minutes when I could get where there was water, even after the Old Squire had pointed out to me the ill effects that follow such indulgence. But it seemed to me that I must drink, and the more I drank the more I wanted, till by Friday of that first week I was taken ill. Sharp pain is a severe yet often useful teacher. I was obliged to desist from frequent potations, and Gram gave me some bits of snake-root to hold in my mouth and chew.

Both the Doanes were great jokers. There was something in the way of fun going on, nearly all the time; either there was racing, while mowing, or raking the heels of the boys ahead of them. They were brimming over with hay-makers' tricks, and I well remember what a prank they played on me during the second week. It befell while we were getting the south field, which was mostly in clover that summer. We drew in the hay with both oxen and horses. When the former were employed, they were yoked to a "rack," set midway on the axle of two large wheels. The rack would carry a ton or more of hay. During the first week, they had several times set me to tread down the hay in the rack, but I made a very bad job of loading it; for I did not know how to "lay the corners" of the load. At length one afternoon, the Old Squire, observing my faults, climbed on the cart, and taking the fork, showed me patiently how to begin at first, and how to lay the hay out at the sides and ends of the rack, keeping the ends higher than the middle all the way up. He made it so plain to me that I took a liking to that part of the work. I could not of course handle the hay as well as a man, but I contrived to stow it quite well, for I had grasped the principle of loading and managed to lay a fairly presentable load. As a result I grew a little over-confident, and was inclined to boast of my skill and make somewhat rash statements as to the size of loads which I could lay. The others probably saw that I needed discipline. I must have been dull, or I should have been on my guard for set-backs from Halse, Addison, or the mischievous Doanes.

When a boy's head begins to grow large and his self-conceit to sprout, he is sometimes singularly blind to consequences. But to proceed, we had thirty-one "tumbles" of dry clover to get in after supper that day, from the south field. The Elder and the Old Squire did not go out with us. "You will have to make two loads of it," the latter remarked as we set off. "Put it in the 'west barn.' You need not hurry. The Elder and I will grind the scythes to-night." I climbed into the rack and rode out to the field, Asa driving and Addison coming on behind, to rake after the cart. Jim and Halstead had gone on ahead, to rick up the hay. "Two loads, wal, they won't be very large ones," Asa remarked. "What's the use to go twice?" I said. "I can load that hay all on at once." Asa looked round at me, as I afterwards remembered, in a somewhat peculiar manner, and I now imagine that both he and Addison at once began plotting my abasement, and passed the "wink" to the others. "You couldn't do it," said Asa. I studied the amount of hay on the ground carefully for a moment or two, reflected on the number of "tumbles" I had previously loaded, and then foolishly offered to bet that, if they would pitch it slowly, could stow every straw of it on the rack at one load and ride the load into the barn. I had forgotten that our orders were to put the hay in the west barn, and that the great doors of that barn were not as large as those of the south barn, the top-piece over them being but twelve feet high. I did not once think of that! The others saw the trap which I was setting for myself, but kept quiet and laid wagers against me. The more they wagered, the more eager I became to try it, if they would not hurry me. Asa began slowly pitching on the hay to me. I laid the load broad and long, and without any very great difficulty stowed the thirty-one "tumbles." It was a large load but a shapely one. I was not a little elated, and chaffed the Doanes considerably.

They kept ominously quiet. We started for the barn, I riding in triumph on the load, and I did not see the danger before me till we were close to the great doors. Asa did not stop. "Haw, Buck! Huh, Line, up there!" he shouted, and drove fast. The top-piece over the doors struck the load fully three feet down from the top, scraping off about half a ton of hay and myself along with it. I landed on the ground behind the cart outside of the doors, with all that hay over me! The rest of the load went in, amidst shouts of laughter from the others. I lay still under the hay, to hear what they would say. Then they all came around and began to call to me. I kept quiet. Finding that I did not move nor answer, they grew alarmed. The Old Squire and Elder were seen coming. "Boys," says Asa, "I dunno but it's broke his neck!" With that he and Jim seized their forks and began to dig for me so vigorously that I was glad to shout, to keep from being impaled on the fork-tines. I crept out and rose to my feet a good deal rumpled, bareheaded and shamefaced. The Doanes, Addison and Halse had been so frightened that they did not now laugh much. The Elder looked at me with a curious expression; and the Old Squire, who had begun to say something pretty sharp to Asa and James (who certainly deserved a reprimand), regarded me at first with some anxiety, which, however, rapidly gave place to a grim smile. "Well, well, my son," said he, "you must live and learn."

One afternoon later in the month, while we were getting the hay in the Aunt Hannah meadow, a somewhat exciting incident occurred. Asa was pitching on a load of the meadow hay and I loading, for I still kept my liking for that part of the work and was allowed to do it, although it was in reality too hard for me. The Old Squire was raking after the cart, and the others were raking hay into windrows a little way off. As we were putting on the last "tumble," or the last but one, a peculiar kind of large fly, or bee, of which cattle are strangely afraid, came buzzing about old Line, the off ox. The instant the ox heard that bee, he snorted, uttered a bellow and started to run. The very sound of the bee's hum seemed to render the oxen quite frantic. Almost at the outset they ran the offwheel over a rick of logs, nearly throwing me headlong from the load. I thrust my fork down deep and held to that, and away went the load down the meadow, both oxen going at full speed, with Asa vainly endeavoring to outrun them, and Gramp shouting, "Whoa-hish!" at the top of his voice. We went on over stumps and through water-holes, while the rest ran across lots, to head off the runaways. At one time I was tumbling in the hay, then jounced high above it; and such a whooping and shouting as rose on all sides had never before disturbed that peaceful meadow, at least within historic times. Coming to a place where the brook made a broad bend partly across the meadow, the oxen rushed blindly off the turfy bank, and landed, load and all, in two or three feet of water and mud. When the load struck in the brook, I went off, heels over head, and fell on the nigh ox's back. The oxen were mired, and so was the load. We were obliged to get the horses to haul the cattle out, and both the oxen and horses were required to haul out the cart.

Altogether, it was a very muddy episode; and though rather startling while it lasted, we yet laughed a great deal over it afterwards.
 
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I have yet to attempt making new grips, in part because the interior of them is bored out in a conical fashion and I have yet to find what I consider an appropriate bit for the job. Also insetting the nut would be a pain. Birch is traditional for the wood, though.

It sounds like the grips on those nibs are completely shot, though. You'll either need to make new ones or get some replacements.

After some work on the nibs, they are in one piece again but not sure they will hold up under any use. Do you know of a source for replacements? Thank you!
 
After some work on the nibs, they are in one piece again but not sure they will hold up under any use. Do you know of a source for replacements? Thank you!

Darn tootin' I do! I carry them here. The threads on the rod tend to be non-standard on many vintage examples so they aren't interchangeable, unfortunately--you have to replace the whole band and grip/nut unit, but you can use the vintage nib blocks, which are ALWAYS better than the fairly rough aluminum castings on the new ones. The present production blocks are usable, but just nowhere near as nice as a good smooth vintage nib block.
 
I picked up a well weathered but nice blade scythe this weekend for 10.00. Holes in snath where blade anchors are eat out so I will likelty rework the end of the snath to tighten them up. Not sure Iif I will just shorten an inch or use hardwood dowels.

When I get time to work on it I will need a nib as well. Also saw one there with an aluminum snath... kind of unsual but I left it there, did not ask price. I have one nice condition working scythe already with brush blade.

Bill
 
Wow - thanks. Ill be putting an order in later today.

Cool, man--I'll keep an eye out for it. :)

I picked up a well weathered but nice blade scythe this weekend for 10.00. Holes in snath where blade anchors are eat out so I will likelty rework the end of the snath to tighten them up. Not sure Iif I will just shorten an inch or use hardwood dowels.

When I get time to work on it I will need a nib as well. Also saw one there with an aluminum snath... kind of unsual but I left it there, did not ask price. I have one nice condition working scythe already with brush blade.

Bill

Do you have any photos? Trying to get an idea of what you mean by holes in the snath--if I can see 'em I might have suggestions on how to go about the repair, if that interests you. :)
 
I do not have any photos but can describe it. At the point that little tit fits into the square holes on the mounting bracket at the very base end of the blade assembly--- The little tit is smaller than the squar hole in the bracket- so it burrows into the wood of the snath. On the one I just got, the wood is wallowed out enough that the blade rotates a few dgrees in relationg to the handle. Mine has three holes for adjusting angle and all three seem wallowed out pretty good.

Your 4th pic above shows the area I am talking about. I will try to get decent pics of mine in the next few days. The blade on the new one is a bit longer than my brush blade but nothing like a grass blade.

Bill
 
I think I get what you're saying. You have a snath with a hafting collar that uses a three-hole mounting plate--sometimes referred to as a "web", though that can be confused with the web of the blade. The knob of the blade tang is smaller than the square holes in the mounting plate and it's allowing for slop in the fit, and the knob is crushing the wood of the snath when tightened.

Some slight crushing is fairly common, but you can drill a small (very shallow) hole under the plate holes to allow greater depth when mounted. Depending on how your collar is designed you may also be able to achieve a tighter fit by using a patch of heavy leather or a piece cut from a section of thick vinyl hose as a spacer between the loop bolt and the tang (presuming, of course, that your example uses a loop bolt.) Does your collar have a closed end or an open one? is a shoulder present on it like on the purple snath pictured above or is it without? Again, depending on the specific make/model there may be additional options or considerations to take. :)
 
Order placed! And just for fun, and since the scythe was in one piece, I went out and mowed down some of the tall grass around my pond. Besides replacing the seriously cracked nibs, I need to do some adjusting of the blade and nibs but even so I had fun. I am way too tall I think for the way it is set up this moment, but I have all your adjustment and maintenance instructions printed and will get on all that tomorrow.

Had fun swinging a scythe for the first time in my life. I well remember my grandfather using his 65 years ago. :-)
 
Yeah--get those nibs set properly and it makes life a lot more pleasant! Also if you're very tall you can lower yourself by using a broadened stance. I find it useful when I'm using a weed blade to cut lawn grasses since I can keep my back straight and extend my swath while adjusting the lay of the blade by the alteration in height of the butt of the snath.
 
[video=youtube;pT7T2ohrlKM]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pT7T2ohrlKM&feature=youtu.be[/video]

The latest mowing session. Cleared a bunch of rain- and wind-flattened tall wetland growth for a family member. Lots of deep sinkholes and puddles full of dirt, which rain had splashed up all over the base of the stalks. Red and nests everywhere, which seemed magnetically drawn to the blade. Very challenging mowing conditions, and the amount of dirt and limp growth meant frequent quick touchups were required. In spite of the crummy conditions it was invigorating and enjoyable work.
 
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