After playing Speed Racer on the interstate for a few hours, I found a timeworn warehouse complex, and a door with a massive red anvil out front. I walked into the forge, met a few fellow students, and met the class instructor, Dale Morse. Dale is a friendly man, prone to humor and explaining things in a way that anyone could understand. He has a glint in his eye that suggests he’s in on some secrets, tricks of the trade that I would hopefully someday come to know. Two things were obvious within the first fifteen minutes of class. First, I was in the right place to learn to move the black metal. And second, these folks really knew what they were doing.