My Anarchist's Workbench
From October 2024 to February 2025, I constructed and subsequently flipped over my woodworking workbench: a \(464.77\ \text{lb}\) hand-tool woodworking appliance 8 feet long, 24 inches wide, 5 inches thick, and 36 inches tall with a swing away seat and a powerful leg vise. Built using reclaimed old-growth Long Leaf Pine and locally reclaimed Pecan for the vise chop and under-shelf.
I performed a structural analysis of the workbench here: Structural Analysis of My Anarchist’s Workbench.
This project began, oddly enough, with a visit to my parents in Northwoods Wisconsin. Surrounded by all that northern timber, I started dreaming about timber framing a cabin for them.
That dream had roots of its own. In 2018 my friend Brian and I traveled to Latvia for a sixteen day, hand tools only timberframing course hosted by the Northmen guild (our partners joined us to explore Riga before the course began). The course was held at Ratnieki and it remains one of my favorite memories: traditional Latvian meals, excursions our instructor Jacob organized to an open air wood architecture museum and a traditional pirts (sauna), and a final meal cooked from foraged ingredients.
Jacob also had a book with him from Lost Art Press. That was my first introduction to the publisher, and it would come back around years later to set this whole project in motion.
Dreaming about the cabin renewed my interest in hand tool woodworking, and a proper workbench was the obvious place to start. The Lost Art Press thread led me to Christopher Schwarz and his book, The Anarchist’s Workbench. Schwarz’s writing is encouraging, informed, and philosophical; it instills the confidence to attempt ambitious projects, and his arguments for this stable, simple, and efficient hand tool design won me over completely. I had spent years not really pursuing this hobby because I lacked a functional workbench and certain tools. This bench was the key to getting started, and I became obsessed with the idea of building one.
So, having anointed myself a woodworker, I began acquiring hand tools following the “buy once, cry once” philosophy. But before the bench could exist, something had to hold it up: I needed to timberframe a pair of sawhorses first.
Part 1: Building the Sawhorses
To start the anarchist’s workbench, I needed a solid base. First up: timber-framed sawhorses, built by hand (I needed the practice, it had been a while since my course). This warm-up took about two months, as life was busy with work and training for a powerlifting meet.
I used strong mortise and tenon joints. For the mortises, the above image shows my vintage beam borer making the initial mortise holes. It’s a lovely old tool, though a bit rickety, but still satisfying to use and more accurate at boring perpendicular holes than the hand-drill guide I have.
After drilling, I cleared out the waste, squaring for the tenons.
Initial assembly. The Douglas Fir beams and legs were simply what I could get; the feet are pressure treated to endure life on the garage floor.
To lock the joints, I used poplar drawbore pegs. The beam borer simplified drilling the offset holes; getting the offset right was key. Poplar, it turns out, is a poor choice for pegs: I shattered one driving it home on the second horse. A lesson I would carry forward when choosing pegs for the bench itself.
Part 2: Sourcing the Reclaimed Longleaf Pine
With the sawhorses built, I acquired lumber for the workbench. Christopher Schwarz recommends Southern Yellow Pine (SYP) or Douglas Fir; I chose reclaimed old-growth Longleaf Pine, a type of SYP, from Berdoll Sawmill (yes, this was much more expensive, probably an order of magnitude more so but I really wanted to put old growth trees into my workbench).
As I use only hand tools and have limited time, I bought the lumber dimensioned (so I missed out on the rite of passage other woodworkers go through, flattening and thicknessing their own SYP boards). The 8-foot top required a seven-piece glue-up, as full-width slabs of that length were unavailable. Legs, stringers, and stretchers were solid slabs.
Hauling hundreds of pounds of dense pine home myself was nerve wracking; unloading it in the garage marked the project’s official start.
I organized the lumber on the new sawhorses, which were now earning their keep.
Part 3: Preparing the Top Beams
With the Longleaf Pine staged, I began preparing the individual beams for the benchtop lamination. Reclaimed lumber comes with history, and history comes with work.
First, the dimensioning problems. One beam tapered along its length and had to be planed true. Another carried significant planer snipe at one end. I then worked the glue-up face of every beam with a jointer plane until it was flat and square.
Being old wood, the beams wore the record of their first life: checks, cracks, old bolt holes, and borer holes. The borer holes worried me at first, but the sawmill staff assured me the insects were opportunists, not active pests. After excavating a few insect carcasses (a strange little archaeology), I filled the voids and imperfections with T-88 structural epoxy.
The epoxy work was deeply satisfying. The old pine drank up the T-88, which filled the holes and stabilized the cracks beautifully.
Part 4: Top glue-up
With the individual beams prepped, the next critical stage was laminating the seven Longleaf Pine pieces to form the workbench top. This was the stressful one. I thought I had prepared: I had read Chris’s advice and the advice of other build logs. It still did not go to plan.
I spent about an hour arranging the beams, selecting the best faces for the top surface and ensuring tight joints. Wanting to move quickly, I decided to do the glue-up at night, aiming to start cleanup and flattening the next day. In retrospect, I don’t recommend this; doing a large glue-up when fresh and early in the day would be better. I oriented the beams “top face down” on the sawhorses, which I had carefully leveled by shimming their feet to avoid introducing twist into the assembly. The idea was that the weight of the beams would help keep the eventual top surface flat.
However, as Christopher Schwarz often says, “Your IQ drops by a few points the minute glue comes out,” and my experience was no exception. Just about nothing went as planned. I used Titebond III for its longer open time, a recommendation from another build log, which was fortunate as I glued all seven beams at once but would do smaller chunks in the future to reduce time pressure.
First, I oriented the third beam from the left incorrectly, with the intended top face pointing up instead of down (I would later need to epoxy that long crack, which turned out quite nice, but I was trying to avoid that).
I hadn’t clearly marked the faces, only the ends, and missed this in the rush. Second, the second-to-last beam somehow slid down during clamping, creating a noticeable gap at one end. Thankfully, the sawmill had provided extra length, so I was still able to cut the top to its final 95-7/8 inches later (so close I just call it 8 feet).
For clamping cauls, I used 4-inch wide white pine boards as pads. This was a mistake; they should have been 5 inches wide to match the beam thickness, and white pine was too soft. The immense pressure from the clamps crushed the pine pads. Southern Yellow Pine boards would have been a better choice. The 4-inch thickness meant that the pads were aligned exactly with the whole chunk resting on the sawhorse so there was more clamping pressure translating into the edge there and not an even balance of clamping pressure going into the edge opposite that resting on the sawhorses. I believe this introduced a cup.
Alternating clamps (some top, some bottom) was also very difficult under time pressure, as I had to hold clamps in mid-air while tightening, causing them to slip. I would plan this clamping strategy better in the future. In total, I used eight shop-made pipe clamps (from 10-foot black pipe cut in half) and eight heavy-duty Wilton I-bar clamps. The pipe clamps were easy and effective; the Wilton clamps were powerful but expensive. At one point, I applied so much torque I sheared the acme thread on one of the Wilton clamps.
After letting the assembly cure overnight, I removed the clamps. Glue squeeze-out was everywhere. I cleaned this up using a chisel plane. Despite the difficulties, the top was now one solid piece.
Part 5: Flattening
With the glue cured and squeeze-out removed, the next task was to flatten and dimension the newly created workbench top. This is where the hand planes and I really got to know each other.
I flipped the top over to flatten the upper surface first. Despite my face-down glue-up strategy, the top had a slight cup. Using my No. 6 hand plane, I worked with a cross-hatch diagonal method to gradually flatten the surface. This was hours of work, including frequent stops to resharpen the plane iron. It was laborious but the result was quite nice.
Next, I flipped the hulking top again to flatten the bottom. This side presented with a bow, which also required planing out. After flattening both the top and bottom surfaces, the initial 5-inch thickness was reduced by about 1/8th of an inch, leaving a final thickness of approximately 4 7/8 inches (not bad, considering the initial state).
With both faces flat, I jointed the long edges of the top. Maneuvering the top onto its side was a challenge; this laminated top was heavy, even for a powerlifter. I used the sawhorses effectively here, resting the edge of the top on the sawhorse feet and clamping it to the sawhorse beam for stability.
Finally, I cut the top to its finished length. With the top placed face-down on the sawhorses, I made the initial cuts with a circular saw and then finished them with a hand saw. These end cuts didn’t turn out perfectly square.
Part 6: Crafting the Base
The next phase involved constructing the base, which meant cutting tenons on the legs and the mortise and tenon joints for the stretchers and stringers that connect the leg assemblies.
This stage was a parade of small measurement errors and corrections. I spent considerable time shaving down and fine-tuning tenons and shoulders to ensure everything would be as square as possible for the final assembly and “staking.” For instance, one stringer tenon was over-cut and needed to be thickened. Another stretcher tenon required a sliver to be sawn off to achieve the correct fit. I wanted to be fastidious here as squareness is crucial when the joints pull tight from draw boring.
One of my draw bore holes on a tenon was not offset enough so I also had to do the “glue a dowel in” trick and redrill.
I also prepared the red oak pegs. I started with pre-made dowels of the correct diameter purchased from Lowe’s and then shaped one end of each peg to be pointy, following Christopher Schwarz’s recommendation.
Part 7: Marrying Top and Base
Once the joinery for the base was cut and test-fitted, the next step was to auger and chisel the mortises in the underside of the workbench top that would receive the leg tenons.
To ensure the mortise layout was as accurate as possible, I first dry-fitted the entire base assembly. This assembled base was then positioned on the inverted workbench top. I used the blue masking tape method to clearly define the mortise locations based on the actual position of the leg tenons after dry-fit.
I began cutting the mortises by boring out the bulk of the waste material with my beam borer. The remaining material was then cleaned up with a 2-inch chisel. This was a laborious process; these large mortises took a very long time to complete by hand.
Cutting through knots in the Longleaf Pine was very difficult. Cleaning up the “end grain” walls of the mortises was also particularly challenging, requiring a lot of bashing.
Despite the effort, all four leg tenons eventually slid snugly into their mortises. Seeing the two main components of the bench come together accurately for the first time was a major moment.
Part 8: Installing the Leg Vise
With the main workbench components prepared, the next step was installing the leg vise, using hardware from Benchcrafted.
The vise chop was made from locally reclaimed pecan. I modified the plan’s dimensions, making the chop thicker and one inch wider per side. The bottom of the chop’s “wings” was cut to a 45-degree angle instead of a rounded profile. Pecan’s hardness made sawing difficult, and planing the faces flat and smooth required significant work.
Installing the Benchcrafted hardware meant cutting mortises in the vise leg for the parallel guide and the main vise screw nut, and boring an accurate through-hole for the large Acme vise screw. The pins for the parallel guide had to be precisely square, so the trusty beam borer came out once again.
After preparing these openings, I fitted the hardware, seating the Acme screw nut and an acetal bushing. Everything had to align precisely with the screw hole in the pecan chop for the vise to run smoothly, so this was slow, careful work.
Part 9: Final Assembly
Once the leg vise hardware was fitted, the next stage was the final assembly of the workbench base and its attachment to the top: gluing and staking 12 joints, all in one go.
I used brown hide glue for this process. It was somewhat stressful, managing the glue as it tended to drip, while also needing to apply it to 12 joints and fit all components together in the correct order. I was also concerned about achieving adequate glue coverage in some of the looser fitting joints.
Following Christopher Schwarz’s recommendation for the staking sequence, I first drove the stakes (pegs) that join the leg tenons to the top. This was followed by staking the long stretchers, and finally the stringers. This order is designed to transfer any unsightly gaps to the less visible stringers. Pounding these stakes into the top and hearing and feeling the legs cinch tight was immensely satisfying. Fortunately, despite some drawbore offsets being on the generous side, there were no tenon cracks, which I was a little nervous about.
Staking did claim one casualty: a shard split off one stake and was driven through a leg, rupturing the wood above the drawbore hole for a stretcher. I performed some “wood glue surgery” with a clamp to repair the damage, and a replacement peg with a more carefully whittled end drove home without complaint.
Part 10: The Flip
After the final assembly glue had cured overnight, it was time to get the workbench off the sawhorses. That meant flipping the entire bench, all 400-some pounds of it. I did this alone.
I had a plan for rolling it over, but I misjudged the pivot point. The bench did not gently rotate; it flew off the sawhorses and landed on its legs with a massive thud. I do not recommend flipping a bench of this size alone.
Remarkably, despite this uncontrolled landing, there was zero damage to the workbench: no cracks, no chips, and no loose joints. It was rock solid. A real testament to the strength of the mortise and tenon (and drawbore) construction and the overall robustness of the design. I also attached the vise chop and swing away seat.
With the bench finally upright, I got to admire the epoxy work on the crack in the third beam of the top (the one I had mispositioned during the glue-up). What I had tried so hard to avoid ended up one of my favorite details.
Part 11: The Planing Stop
With the bench upright and assembled, I moved on to the planing stop: a mortise in the benchtop and a custom-made stop to fit it.
The mortise for the planing stop was, unfortunately, the worst one I cut during the entire build; its walls were not as square as I would have liked. For the planing stop “brick” itself, I used an offcut of the reclaimed pecan from the vise chop. I used hardware from Crucible Tool for this.
My first attempt at fitting the Crucible planing stop into the pecan brick went poorly. I under-drilled the hole for the hardware and the dense pecan cracked when I tried to install it. Then, while attempting to remove the hardware from the cracked brick, I snapped the head off the Crucible planing stop. Not my finest hour.
While waiting for a replacement part from Crucible, I repaired the pecan brick by forcing wood glue into the cracks and clamping it tightly. For the second attempt with the new hardware, I over-drilled the hole in the pecan brick. I then set the planing stop hardware into this oversized hole using epoxy, aiming to create a tight, gap-filled fit that would also help prevent any further splitting of the pecan.
Part 12: Adding the Lower Shelf
The next addition to the workbench was the lower shelving. I chose reclaimed pecan for this, to match the vise chop material. Although a sawmill dimensioned the lumber, considerable fitting work was still required.
The cleats that support the shelves were straightforward. Following Christopher Schwarz’s advice, I lightly glued and screwed them into place without much issue.
Fitting the shelf boards themselves was more of a chore. The smaller shelf sections that fit between the workbench legs needed careful planing and fitting to accommodate some slightly irregular angles and widths in those spaces. For the main shelf boards, I planed each one to create a consistent 1/8-inch gap between them, using 1/8-inch spacers during fastening. These gaps allow for wood movement and provide a path for sawdust to fall through.
While planing the individual shelf boards I had not been consistently checking for square, which I only realized later. Some of the 1/8-inch gaps therefore do not have perfectly parallel sides. In the completed shelf, you cannot tell.
Part 13: A Cracked Leg Side Quest
While working on the lower shelves, I noticed a large and concerning crack in the leg that holds the leg vise. I decided it was best to address this immediately, even though it meant the inconvenience of removing vise hardware (better to just get it over with now rather than later when I’d be even lazier about it).
The crack ran through both the lower mortise for one of the stretchers and the mortise for the vise’s parallel guide. Getting glue effectively into the crack would be difficult, especially with the bench upright.
My repair strategy was as follows:
- I drilled a hole into the cracked section, positioned high enough to intersect the stretcher’s tenon internally and pass through the plane of the crack.
- Using a Lie-Nielsen dowel plate, I made a custom dowel from an offcut of Longleaf Pine.
- I squeezed wood glue into the drilled hole, nearly filling it.
- While gently prying the main crack open just slightly, I slowly tapped the custom pine dowel into the glue-filled hole. The intent was to use hydraulic pressure from the dowel to force glue deep into the seams of the crack from the inside.
This approach appeared to work very well. Once the peg was fully seated, I clamped the exterior of the crack and left it to dry overnight. The resulting repair felt very strong, and I was quite happy with how it turned out.
Part 14: Finishing Touches
With all construction and repairs completed, the final step was to prepare the surfaces and apply a protective finish to the workbench.
First, I eased all sharp edges on the benchtop, legs, and stretchers using sandpaper. This “breaking the corners” makes the bench more comfortable to work around and helps prevent splintering.
For the finish, I used Christopher Schwarz’s “shop finish” recipe, a mixture of one part boiled linseed oil, one part mineral spirits, and one part oil-based spar varnish. I applied this mixture liberally with a rag, ensuring good coverage. Two full coats were applied to all visible surfaces.
This completed the construction of my very own Anarchist’s Workbench!
Conclusion
This was a satisfying, all-consuming project. I worked on it in the evenings by headlamp and on every free Saturday and Sunday I had. Plenty of things went sideways; and yet adapting to the problems, debugging the issues, and correcting the little “bugs” turned out to be the most gratifying part of the whole build.
The bench has been rock solid ever since. Working on it taught me what a high mass, traditionally joined structure feels like under hand tools, and that lesson planted the seed for the next project: the Foundation Trestle.