A Classic Axe Joke Joe, the chronic borrower approaches his neighbor Ray. “Ray, may I borrow your axe?” he asks. “Not today,” Ray replied, “I have to make soup later.” “What kind of excuse it that?” demanded Joe, ”Axes and soup don’t have anything to do with one another!”  “Well,” confessed Ray, “I admit it’s a lousy excuse. But, if I already know I’m not going to lend you my axe, I can give you any excuse I want.” It’s our experience that tools that are lent out rarely return in the same condition they left. We suggest keeping a stockpile of lousy excuses on hand in the event you’re required to play out the scene described above. 
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A Classic Axe Joke

Joe, the chronic borrower approaches his neighbor Ray. “Ray, may I borrow your axe?” he asks.

“Not today,” Ray replied, “I have to make soup later.”

“What kind of excuse it that?” demanded Joe, ”Axes and soup don’t have anything to do with one another!” 

“Well,” confessed Ray, “I admit it’s a lousy excuse. But, if I already know I’m not going to lend you my axe, I can give you any excuse I want.”


It’s our experience that tools that are lent out rarely return in the same condition they left. We suggest keeping a stockpile of lousy excuses on hand in the event you’re required to play out the scene described above. 

When you hit what you aim for, and the tool vanishes into its target, there is a moment of nothing. The force exerted continues blasting through the object, in this case wood, and the weight of your axe continues to fall but you, your muscles, are hollow. This is classical physics, matter altered by force, distilled through an axe.  The moment ends as quickly as it came and you’re at it again. The elasticity of those fractions of a second, that’s what you’re looking for in each strike — perfection is measured simply. You see each swing, each round, through and move on to the next, not stopping until there’s no pile left and the air is a mix of pine and dirt.  I recently spent a few hours chopping wood for the house with my stepdad (known as Pop) in Steamboat Springs, CO. I had brought two tools for testing: the Best Made American Felling Axe and the new Hudson Bay Axe. Not surprisingly, the Felling Axe was called into duty the bulk of the time, as the rounds, knotted by time and climate, proved stubborn. The Felling Axe is heavy but swings as accurately as its operator — what I notice is its fine balance and absolute power. If you hit what you aim for, the weight of the axe and moderate force is enough to split pine easily or, as it’s originally intended, drop a tree. It’s heavy, sure, but its force in the right hands is impressive. Its balance, achieved by way of a flawless bit and elegantly curved handle, is the true success. The Hudson Bay Axe’s strength is in its versatility. It’s light (packable) but when used correctly can easily split firewood. Since the Hudson is light, you can take it anywhere. You can also (and you have to) swing it with velocity and precision. I was surprised with how true to my intentions the Hudson behaved, but that’s like any good tool — it becomes a part of you. The Hudson is slender, and its bit elegant; of all the Best Made tools, it is perhaps the most elegant in design. The handle, long enough to be safe, is well-conceived and it’s here that I find my favorite feature of the Hudson. The swell knob, or end of the handle, has been left thick enough to fill the palm of your hand, giving the Hudson the feel of a much larger axe when it’s in your hand.
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When you hit what you aim for, and the tool vanishes into its target, there is a moment of nothing. The force exerted continues blasting through the object, in this case wood, and the weight of your axe continues to fall but you, your muscles, are hollow. This is classical physics, matter altered by force, distilled through an axe. 

The moment ends as quickly as it came and you’re at it again. The elasticity of those fractions of a second, that’s what you’re looking for in each strike — perfection is measured simply. You see each swing, each round, through and move on to the next, not stopping until there’s no pile left and the air is a mix of pine and dirt. 

I recently spent a few hours chopping wood for the house with my stepdad (known as Pop) in Steamboat Springs, CO. I had brought two tools for testing: the Best Made American Felling Axe and the new Hudson Bay Axe. Not surprisingly, the Felling Axe was called into duty the bulk of the time, as the rounds, knotted by time and climate, proved stubborn. The Felling Axe is heavy but swings as accurately as its operator — what I notice is its fine balance and absolute power. If you hit what you aim for, the weight of the axe and moderate force is enough to split pine easily or, as it’s originally intended, drop a tree. It’s heavy, sure, but its force in the right hands is impressive. Its balance, achieved by way of a flawless bit and elegantly curved handle, is the true success.

The Hudson Bay Axe’s strength is in its versatility. It’s light (packable) but when used correctly can easily split firewood. Since the Hudson is light, you can take it anywhere. You can also (and you have to) swing it with velocity and precision. I was surprised with how true to my intentions the Hudson behaved, but that’s like any good tool — it becomes a part of you. The Hudson is slender, and its bit elegant; of all the Best Made tools, it is perhaps the most elegant in design. The handle, long enough to be safe, is well-conceived and it’s here that I find my favorite feature of the Hudson. The swell knob, or end of the handle, has been left thick enough to fill the palm of your hand, giving the Hudson the feel of a much larger axe when it’s in your hand.