As a curious walker, I find myself drawn to the oddities and overlooked objects that dot the countryside. One in particular had caught my attention time and again, a large, tarpaulin-covered piece of machinery tucked away on a favourite walking route. For months it remained a mystery, until a chance conversation revealed its identity: a steam engine-powered saw bench, owned by a local wheelwright.
A few weeks ago, I walked past again and, for the first time, found the bench uncovered. The makers plate read “Stenner and Gunn, Tiverton” – the very area where I grew up. That small detail sealed it. I had to find the person behind this machine.
A Step Back in Time
Following a brief chat with Ben Headon at West’s Wood Fair in June, I was invited to visit his workshop near Older Hill, Woolbeding. His home and workshop are reached by a sunken lane and an unmetalled track. I chose to park on the main road and walk down across the common instead, partly because the approach suited my boots better than my car, and partly because the stroll through this timeless land felt like the right prelude to stepping back in time.
Entering Ben’s world really is like turning back the clock. His workshop is a trove of wooden wheels, pieces of time-worn carts, vintage tools, and all the character of a rural life museum – unsurprising, given that many of his pieces are salvaged from such places. There’s something wholesome and grounding about the surroundings. Wood is everywhere, in all its raw and finished forms. The air smells of timber and wood shavings. It’s a place where the past isn’t just remembered, but actively maintained.
“Yesterday’s Pick-Up Trucks”
Thinking about where I had parked, I opened our conversation by asking Ben how traditional wooden carts would fare on today’s pothole-ridden roads. He laughed and told me they’d probably manage better than most modern cars. Wooden wheels, he explained, were designed to handle stress – from rough tracks to heavy loads. Much like how we choose tyres today for different terrains, wheels were also made thicker, thinner, or from different woods depending on their intended use. He described the old carts and waggons as “yesterday’s pick-up trucks” – robust, reliable, and built for function.
A Vanishing Craft
Ben considers himself not just a maker, but a restorer and conservator of a craft that’s quietly vanishing. Today, there are only 11 wheelwrights still working in the UK, with several nearing retirement. However, The Worshipful Company of Wheelwrights in London is a wealthy organisation. This stems from it having received thousands of subscriptions over hundreds of years from the men who would once have been at the centre of every village or town. Back in the day, they all had at least one wheelwright.
In his workshop, Ben showed me some wheels currently in progress. Each was a meticulous, elegant structure, crafted with precision, and accompanied by a whole vocabulary of terms I’d never come across before: tangs, fellies, strakes, spoke dogs, travellers (not the people), and little giants. It’s easy to see how the terminology alone could be a barrier to new entrants! I also discovered that “cart” and “waggon” aren’t interchangeable: a cart has two wheels, a waggon four.
But that level of intricacy, in both language and construction, is part of the beauty. The wheel is both tactile and useful, technical and aesthetic – made up of multiple components that only truly come together in the final push. If one part is even slightly off, the whole structure can fail. It’s a lesson in harmony, and in trust, the kind of precision that only comes from deep experience.
Timber, Tools, and Tenacity
Ben’s journey into wheelwrighting began in forestry, where he gained an intimate knowledge of different woods – a crucial foundation for the work he now does. Different parts of a wheel demand different properties. The hub is made from elm as its springy, twisted grain handles pressure from all angles. The spokes are usually made from oak for its long, straight grain, while the fellies, which form the outer rim, are always made from ash due to its shock-absorbing properties and flexibility.
However, sourcing suitable materials has become a challenge. Not only have diseases like Ash Dieback and Dutch Elm Disease reduced supply, but Ben said that the timber industry today prioritises materials for construction and interiors, not traditional craft. This means timber is often sawn too thinly for his needs. To make structurally secure hubs for a set of waggon wheels, he needs sizeable chunks of elm. This is where the steam-powered saw bench comes in: it allows him to process timber himself, cutting pieces to the right thickness and then drying and storing them for future use. It’s not the easiest way to work. But for Ben it’s not about convenience, it’s about craft.
Keeping the Knowledge Train Going
Despite the challenges, Ben remains remarkably positive. He’s deeply connected to a small, passionate community of fellow wheelwrights who regularly visit one another to work together, swap stories, or simply observe a rare job – the sort of opportunity that may only come around once every ten years.
He sees his role as more than just a wheelwright, he’s a custodian of knowledge, hoping to inspire others to care about this intricate, meaningful trade. To that end, Ben is thinking about opening his doors to visitors with a series of wheelwrighting information sessions at his workshop, offering people the chance to see his tools, watch a wheel being made, and explore a fascinating collection of rural heritage items that surround and support his craft.
WANT TO LEARN HOW WOODEN WHEELS ARE MADE? If you’re curious, intrigued, or just love to learn, this will be a rare chance to experience a piece of living history. To help Ben gauge interest, please add your name and details HERE. This will be passed onto Ben for him to email you further information.
