Every January, Austin turns into a snot factory.
Cedar fever hits around the holidays and doesn't let go until February. People walk around with eyes like they've been pepper-sprayed, pharmacies run low on Claritin, and if you live in the Hill Country you start to genuinely resent the sight of those scruffy little trees clogging the creek banks and hillsides.
Texas Mountain Cedar — which, to be clear, is not actually a cedar at all. It's Ashe Juniper. The name is a misnomer that's been around so long nobody bothers correcting it anymore. Botanically speaking, there's not a single true cedar in the Hill Country — but try telling that to someone in the middle of a cedar fever attack. Anyway. It's treated like a pest here. Ranchers clear it. Allergists use it as a cautionary tale. It's the villain of Austin's winter months.
And it makes absolutely beautiful wood.
What It Actually Looks Like
Cut into a cedar log and you get something you weren't expecting: a rich reddish-brown heartwood surrounded by a creamy white sapwood. The contrast is dramatic. The grain is tight and sometimes slightly wavy. And the smell — if you're not in the middle of an allergy attack — is that deep, resinous, unmistakable cedar scent that people pay money to put in their closets.
It's aromatic. It's striking. It's genuinely lovely to look at, and it's one of the most underused species in Central Texas woodworking.
How to Work With It
A few things to know before you start:
It's soft. Cedar is not a hardwood. It dents, it scratches, and it won't hold up to heavy daily abuse the way walnut or maple will. That's not a dealbreaker — it just means you choose projects accordingly. Boxes, small furniture, decorative pieces, carved items. Things that will be appreciated, not beaten up.
It's oily. The natural oils that make cedar smell good also make finishing tricky. Oil-based finishes can struggle to cure properly. Stick with shellac as a sealer coat first, then topcoat with whatever you like. Or just let it go natural — unfinished cedar has a lot of charm and ages well.
The grain tears out easily. Take light passes with hand planes and keep your tools sharp. With a router or on the lathe, go slow and expect some tearout on end grain. Sand through the grits — it responds well.
The sapwood is useful. Unlike some species where sapwood is considered waste, cedar's white-to-red contrast is actually the point. Lean into it. Bookmatch slabs. Let the sapwood be part of the design.
What to Make With It
Closet and drawer liners — obviously. But also: small boxes, keepsake chests, turned bowls, wall art. The natural aromatics make it perfect for anything that holds fabric, wool, or clothing. Moths hate it.
I've used it for small shelves and it looks fantastic. The reddish color deepens over time with exposure to light.
The One Precaution (And Yes, It's Ironic)
Wear a mask.
I know. The tree you're already allergic to is now producing fine dust that you're going to inhale while you mill it. Cedar dust is a serious respiratory irritant — even for people who don't have seasonal allergies. Wear an N95 at minimum. Work with ventilation. Don't be a hero.
The same plant that makes half of Austin miserable in January will make your shop smell incredible in July. That's the trade-off. Respect the biology, wear your PPE, and enjoy one of the most underrated local species in Texas.
It's free in a lot of cases too. People are always clearing cedar. Ask a rancher. Check Craigslist. You'll have more than you know what to do with.
— Ben Caparoon
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