Tonight I went out to the shop to oil and tap the shaft again.
When I tapped the end it moved.
Now all I have to do is file off the setscrew marks and a little burr on the end and it will come right out.
Could have been the heat I put on the nut. Could have been the heat on the shaft. Could have been the Kroil. (I love the stuff.)
Bet it was the patience.
Thanks for all the ideas guys. If the shaft hadn't slipped loose tonight it was off with the end and drill it out this weekend.
After a year of patient waiting, oiling, tapping, waiting again, I finally have the cranks off of the treadle grind stone and shaft that I picked up. My intent was to quickly build a stand and treadles, jump on the seat and Bob’s yer uncle.
Alas it was not to be. When I got off the poor bedraggled bearings, that someone had butchered onto the shaft, I found that the shaft is severely worn. My lathe has a 9” swing over the bed and the stone is 20” diameter so just chucking up the shaft is not easily accomplished. No problem I’ll just remove the shaft and weld it up. Turning it in the lathe will be a snap right? More oiling an tapping. Patience is rapidly becoming a scarce commodity.
I'm looking for someone with experience remove grindstone shafts. The shaft is of minor consequence if need be I'll drill the thing out and put in a new shaft but I'm concerned about damaging the stone.
When I was seven years old my parent bought their first house. We moved
in in October. It was a fixer-upper, by that I mean we spent a week
hauling out trash from the house, and Dad spent 4 years fixing it. I
learned a lot about home repair while helping my Dad install plumbing,
wiring, a fuel oil furnace, and a bathroom. The toilet was originally
in the living room closet and the sink was 40 feet away by the back
door. We also learned togetherness as a family that first winter,
because we all tried to huddle as close to the living room stove as
possible while turning to keep one side from burning while the other
side froze. That first winter my brothers and I hauled lump coal in
from the tumbledown shed by the back door in to feed the potbellied
stove in the kitchen and living room. The end of the shed with the door
had folded down flat so we entered through a hole we made in the wall
by pulling some boards off. By spring we had pretty well emptied the
coal shed. In the back of the shed we found a corn sheller. Bob ,
Jerry, and I ran field corn and walnuts through it and had great fun
cranking the handle while the wheel turned and corn magically came out
the bottom and the cob was spit out the end.
The outbuildings were full of old tools and farm equipment. Dad needed
money more than he needed old tools so he sold all of them off,
including the corn sheller. The money went to buy the oil furnace so I
guess it was a fair trade.
Over the years that corn sheller became something that I really wanted
to have. I'm a Galoot, freely admitted. I wanted one but could never
justify buying one at the prices people thought they were worth. Every
auction with a corn sheller either was too far away or the price jumped
right over $200.00 and out of the range I was willing to part with.
In the fall of 2009 I went to another auction. This time to buy a trunk
for my wife. She had wanted one as a storage place for afghans and
blankets in the family room. While there I saw a fixer-upper of a corn
sheller. http://galootcentral.com/index.php?option=com_copperminevis&It-
emid=2&place=displayimage&album=484&pos=0
In the family tradition it was full of trash and was going to take a
lot of work to make it right, but all the iron was there. I carefully
didn't look at it much, and when the bidding time came I bid $15.00 and
it was mine.
After 6 months of off and on work at night and on weekends it's done.
After finally getting all the parts together on Saturday (July 25th, 2010), I
spent Sunday cranking the handle, smiling, and remembering. This
ones not for sale.
Union City is on the St Joe River, which is a good bow shot from my front porch. My wife Lydia, son Ryan, and I live in a farmhouse built in 1891, with our cat named Gabby and Saidie the dog. I spend my time mostly at work and when I can, in my workshop rebuilding tractors or old farm implements, making the occasional piece of furniture, or just thinking about the next project. My Dad started me on using old tools when I was about three, by giving me his worn out ones so I wouldn't use his electric drill to put holes in the yard. My brothers and I spent many a day augering holes in fence posts, trees, and of course the ground with an old brace and bit. We could have all the bent nails that we wanted and any scrap lumber that was lying around
was quickly stripped of bent nails, and after straightening the nails, converted into go carts, tree houses, boats, or whatever the three of us could think of.
I stayed with the old tools but I have bought a fair amount of "Tailed Devils" also. So now I build bigger houses and create bigger carts and boats. As the old saying goes "The only difference between men and boys is the size of their toys"
Depending on where the money was I've worked as an electrician, carpenter, welder, plumber, engineer, and manager. The skills I picked up from some of my different jobs have allowed me to play at all these things while someone else foots the bill. My favorite place to be is in a converted 2 story hog barn, no there weren't any hogs on the 2nd floor, that with stubborn determination, "No I won't burn it down, or tear it down it's mine d*mn*t", where I keep my
collection of old and new tools handy for the occasional use in restoring old tractors, creating toys, building hay wagons, restoring my 1946 Ford 3 Ton truck, restoring antique furniture, rock carving, blacksmithing, and in general fiddling around.
Blacksmithing is kind of the beginning and end of the circle. It takes me back to working with old tools like my forge, anvil, and post vice, while leading me on to new ideas and concepts of decorative artwork and the practical touches of hinges, hooks, and hardware for my woodworking projects.
I'll never be monetarily rich from the results of my blacksmith work, but my wife is proud to show the bird baths, trellises, and rustic artwork, both wood and steel, that I've made. Outside of family presents, my sister has sold a few things at her green house, so the respect I gain is well worth the time spent playing.
