This is my first season burning, and it has been an absolute pleasure. I'm warm, enjoying the trips to the wood pile, and can't wait to see the gas bill. That being said, I just had my a$$ handed to me by my stove.
It is an older (1980s) VC Resolute III with double glass windowed doors and no fire bricks, no ash cleanout, etc. The stove has been keeping me very warm, burning at a consistent 450 for 7+ hours a load.
I started the old beast as usual, when I returned from work tonight. My wood is great and lit up perfectly as usual in updraft mode. I burned for about 4 hours in side-draft mode, switched to updraft, loaded her up, heated up the new load, and switched back to side-draft. An hour went by, and I relaxed on the couch. I went to the fridge for a brew, looked at the stove as I walked by, and was amazed by the clarity of the left door's glass and the unusually dramatic flames.
Approaching closer, the clarity of the glass was in-fact no glass at all. The full load was completely en fuego. The unreliable bottom glass bracket on my stove rotated down and freed the glass to frolic in the flames. I stepped back, quelled the oh-poop panic, threw on my new elbow length fire gloves, and planned my course of action. I figured I couldn't just open the doors, since the stove was in side-draft mode, so I dropped the damper. BIG MISTAKE, the dragon instantly awoke with an audible rush and blast of heat. I quickly grabbed the damper handle, and threw her back into side-draft mode.
Oh-poop squared at this point. I needed to get the glass back into place, or my stove was toast. So... I cracked the doors open and to my surprise no smoke. The draft was so strong, the smoke was going the right way. The fire was blazing with the new access to oxygen, so I shut the right door swung out the left and fished the glass out of the flames with fire gloves. The glass was blazing hot, burnt the crap out of my gloves and started cooking my middle finger. I dropped the glass and cracked the pane right down the center. Poop!
I was in panic mode at this point, hurting, and worried about the inferno damaging the stove, pipe, chimney, house, cats, dog, etc. I grabbed my philips head, popped the larger piece of broken glass back into the door, and tightened the brackets down after a good amount of fiddling. In this process my fire gloves were basically toasting away with a horrendous smell. Shutting the doors quelled the fire slightly, but a zippo sized hole in the glass still seemed to satiate the dragon's appetite. I slid the remaining piece of glass between the cast iron florets and the partial glass pane, covering about 95% of the hole. This worked extremely well and with the extra damper I installed on the stovepipe shut, the fire was back under control.
This whole ordeal lasted about 15 minutes, so I hope the stove is OK. I cranked the oscillating fan to high during the ordeal to dissipate as much heat as possible. I didn't hear any horrible cracking or popping sounds, so I'm praying the internals are fine. Nothing external was glowing.
So... This weekend shall involve locating replacement glass, new fire gloves, and explaining to the neighbor why all the creosote that was living in my chimney was blown out in force and now resides on his siding. Just kidding on that last part.
It is an older (1980s) VC Resolute III with double glass windowed doors and no fire bricks, no ash cleanout, etc. The stove has been keeping me very warm, burning at a consistent 450 for 7+ hours a load.
I started the old beast as usual, when I returned from work tonight. My wood is great and lit up perfectly as usual in updraft mode. I burned for about 4 hours in side-draft mode, switched to updraft, loaded her up, heated up the new load, and switched back to side-draft. An hour went by, and I relaxed on the couch. I went to the fridge for a brew, looked at the stove as I walked by, and was amazed by the clarity of the left door's glass and the unusually dramatic flames.
Approaching closer, the clarity of the glass was in-fact no glass at all. The full load was completely en fuego. The unreliable bottom glass bracket on my stove rotated down and freed the glass to frolic in the flames. I stepped back, quelled the oh-poop panic, threw on my new elbow length fire gloves, and planned my course of action. I figured I couldn't just open the doors, since the stove was in side-draft mode, so I dropped the damper. BIG MISTAKE, the dragon instantly awoke with an audible rush and blast of heat. I quickly grabbed the damper handle, and threw her back into side-draft mode.
Oh-poop squared at this point. I needed to get the glass back into place, or my stove was toast. So... I cracked the doors open and to my surprise no smoke. The draft was so strong, the smoke was going the right way. The fire was blazing with the new access to oxygen, so I shut the right door swung out the left and fished the glass out of the flames with fire gloves. The glass was blazing hot, burnt the crap out of my gloves and started cooking my middle finger. I dropped the glass and cracked the pane right down the center. Poop!
I was in panic mode at this point, hurting, and worried about the inferno damaging the stove, pipe, chimney, house, cats, dog, etc. I grabbed my philips head, popped the larger piece of broken glass back into the door, and tightened the brackets down after a good amount of fiddling. In this process my fire gloves were basically toasting away with a horrendous smell. Shutting the doors quelled the fire slightly, but a zippo sized hole in the glass still seemed to satiate the dragon's appetite. I slid the remaining piece of glass between the cast iron florets and the partial glass pane, covering about 95% of the hole. This worked extremely well and with the extra damper I installed on the stovepipe shut, the fire was back under control.
This whole ordeal lasted about 15 minutes, so I hope the stove is OK. I cranked the oscillating fan to high during the ordeal to dissipate as much heat as possible. I didn't hear any horrible cracking or popping sounds, so I'm praying the internals are fine. Nothing external was glowing.
So... This weekend shall involve locating replacement glass, new fire gloves, and explaining to the neighbor why all the creosote that was living in my chimney was blown out in force and now resides on his siding. Just kidding on that last part.
The door is dead nuts plumb and square. House was built in 1901. I replaced everything except the studs (literally). That is a temporary register, while the original brass one remains in the garage, waiting for polishing.
