Testing the beast

I grabbed a piece of white oak and set it up on the shooting board. After a bit of careful fettling, I adjusted the blade until it was taking a consistent, whisper-thin shaving—just enough to register cleanly along the full edge.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I reached for a micrometer to see just how fine the cut really was. For reference, 1 micrometer (1 μm) equals one-thousandth of a millimeter—about 0.0394 thousandths of an inch (a “thou”).

On long grain, the shaving was almost transparent—gossamer thin and immensely satisfying. Used as a smoother, the plane was pure joy. I held it like an oversized block plane in my right hand, with my left hand resting on the front knob as I would on a traditional #4. The grip felt intuitive and natural from the first pass.

That said, I won’t be reaching for this plane ahead of my #4 smoothers anytime soon. For dedicated smoothing work, a proper tote and knob remain hard to beat. They simply offer a level of balance and authority that feels complete.

I haven’t yet used a wooden coffin smoother, which is held much like the miter plane. My suspicion is that their lighter weight changes the equation entirely. The miter plane is undeniably hefty. Held like a block plane, I don’t quite experience the same sense of control I get from a classic knob-and-tote configuration. The mass is reassuring on a shooting board, but in hand-held smoothing, it demands more intention.

Just 4 μm! (0.157 thou!). I cannot see ANY practical reason why I would want to take shavings this thin on a regular basis — but now I know I can.

Time for the real trial: end grain.

I left the settings untouched. Same blade projection. Same setup. I took a pass and measured the shaving.

6 μm — or 0.236 thou.

That increase makes sense. End grain shavings tend to compress slightly during the cut, especially at these vanishingly small thicknesses. What you measure after the fact is not necessarily the exact geometry at the edge, but the shaving in its relaxed state.

Still, removing end grain in white oak at six microns—cleanly, without drama—is not something to shrug at. That’s controlled cutting.

And more importantly: no aching thumb.

The finish on the end grain is absolutely superb—nearly glass-like, with that unmistakable silky sheen that only a truly sharp edge can produce. Light reflects evenly across the surface, and the fibers look cleanly severed rather than crushed.

“Baby-butt smooth,” some might say.

You didn’t hear that one from me.

Using the plane on this piece was a very pleasant experience. The shooting horn works like a dream, and I felt no discomfort — as I would have, had I used my regular planes.

Since the blade isn’t skewed, there’s a fairly noticeable impact when it first meets the wood and begins to cut. You feel that initial shock. Thankfully, the horn does its job—my hand doesn’t suffer for it.

I’m planning to build a new shooting board and am considering setting it at a slight angle to introduce a subtle skew in the cut. Even a small amount might soften that initial impact and make the action feel a bit more refined.

On the last page, I’ll show some more images and give my conclusion.