My Grandfather left me his axe when he passed away. It wasn't a fancy name brand or a brightly coloured work of art, but it was his. And now it is mine. There was more meaning behind that rusty blade than anyone could imagine. It was a passing of an idea — rather — a legacy. As I hand shape each and every long grained Hickory handle to match its one of a kind refurbished head, I am reminded of that feeling I have bestowed on my own axe. I hope each one of these axes have a similar life and a similar story, packed full of adventures much like the one hanging in my woodshed. Happy chopping friends.