A Puzzling Journey - Part III
Part III – So, Wooden Puzzles, eh? But why?
Originally part of the January 2025 edition of the Mercurius Newsletter.
Maïa, our eldest, was born in December 2019. I’m fortunate to live in Canada, and even more so as a member of the military, which allowed me to take nine months of paid parental leave at a significant percentage of my usual salary. When the pandemic hit shortly after her birth, we were already living in what felt like a self-imposed lockdown, drained by the exhaustion of first-time parenthood. It was during this time that my woodworking journey truly began to evolve. Like many lockdown woodworking hobbyists, I found myself drawn to Steve Ramsey’s Woodworking for Mere Mortals YouTube channel, along with a whole virtual universe of woodworking influencers.
Fast forward to February 2022, with the birth of our second child, Maximilien, and my interests began to shift. I discovered Chris Ramsey’s puzzle-solving videos (an odd coincidence, evolving from one ‘Ramsey’ to another). Around the same time, I picked up Brian Menold’s book, Wooden Puzzles. I don’t recall which came first, Chris or Brian, but both inspired my first attempt at crafting a cubic dissection puzzle: the Little Kenny, designed by Ken Irvine for Brian’s book. Let’s just say it was a quite the learning experience.
My initial attempt was a disaster; I used cheap poplar, made the cubes too small, and the weak glue seams gave way as soon as anyone tried to solve it. When I re-glued it, I didn’t align the pieces properly, leaving it permanently askew. I progressed quickly though, so that by my third attempt, I had switched to hard maple (thanks to my endless supply of leftover flooring boards) and made larger, more precise cubes.
The result was a sturdier, smoother puzzle that I gifted to my spouse’s uncle in Germany; my first international puzzle! I also crafted a Knotty 3, designed by Yavuz Demirhan, for her aunt, also in Germany. Later, I crafted a three-layered version of the Little Kenny using maple, walnut, and Spanish cedar, reinforced with brass rods for added durability. I’m happy to say that one eventually found a home in California.
(For puzzle enthusiasts: I was informed by Ken that this version of the Little Kenny is an earlier design and doesn’t include rotations like the updated version, with half-cubes, that Brian occasionally has available on his website.)
As I mentioned in the previous chapter of my story, I continued honing my craft, making various wooden items for local craft markets; cutting boards, shelves, soap trays, and various puzzles from Brian’s book. My first Fall Market was a total failure, but at an early Holiday Market in November, I sold a few soap trays (maybe due to the fact that the table adjacent mine was a lady selling hand-made soaps). The real highlight though was watching the market volunteers, all teenagers, crowd around my table, challenging each other to solve all the puzzles. While I didn’t sell any puzzles that day (let’s face it, $80–$100 wooden puzzles aren’t exactly in most teenager’s budget or priorities), their excitement and fascination validated my efforts.
At my final market, hosted by our local Legion in early December, I finally saw some success: I sold out of STC’s Cruiser puzzles and Half-Hour Cubes. From these experiences, I realized two things: first, craft markets aren’t the best avenue for my work. Second, and this realization came after a two-hour session with a small-business consultant, I needed to pick a niche. His advice was simple: people seek out artisans and makers for their specific expertise. If they want a dining table, they find someone who builds tables for a living. If they want kitchen cabinets, they seek out an experienced cabinet maker. By focusing on one specialty, I could also tailor my workshop and tools for efficiency and truly refine my craft.
I chose mechanical puzzles not because they sold particularly well (which was highly debatable at the time), but because I felt genuinely passionate about them. From designing to prototyping, from inventing clever jigs to the building process itself, every step brings me a deep sense of joy and fulfillment. Crafting puzzles also guarantees variety; each new design presents its own unique challenges, pushing me to think creatively and hone my skills in new ways, unlike the seemingly repetitive work of building cabinets, for example. The next logical step? Designing my own puzzles. How hard could it be...?