I Wanted Pumice for My Drill. Things Got a Little Out of Hand.

Apparently, I watched too much Home Improvement growing up.

Because when I discovered how useful pumice could be for stubborn mineral buildup, my next thought was pretty much Tim Taylor’s entire philosophy:

More power.

Why was I scrubbing this stuff by hand? Why couldn’t I put pumice on a drill?

I searched the internet. Then searched again. Different words, different days, same question. Plenty of brushes, scouring pads, and handheld pumice blocks. I couldn’t find the tool I had in my head.

Eventually, that question became TurboStone.

Getting from the idea to something I’m proud to sell took considerably more than sticking a shaft in a rock.

Apparently, I Was Going to Have to Build It Myself

Last summer, I toured a tree farm and met a man who had developed inventions, earned patents, and built a business around his ideas. What stayed with me was how excited he still was about it.

Being around that energy made me want to give my own idea a real shot.

I initially explored having a factory in China manufacture it. Their proposed approach was to shape the lightweight, crumbly pumice and glue an insert into it.

I knew that wouldn’t deliver the product I wanted.

If this was going to become the tool I imagined, I was going to have to engineer it myself.

TurboStone became my reason to buy a 3D printer.

I already worked with my hands for a living, but now I was learning how to design and print the parts needed to make something that didn’t exist in the form I wanted.

Soon there were molds, inserts, adapters, prototypes, jigs, machines, and test batches.

Between handyman jobs, equipment repairs, and cats who expect the food service to remain uninterrupted, I already had plenty happening. Somehow, this project found room to take over a substantial portion of my brain.

I spent money and time on elaborate mechanisms I thought would help me build a little factory—only to discover that a simple maneuver could make some of that machinery unnecessary.

Apparently, I like to learn the expensive way.

I also spent much of a year refining a five-level “StoneLife” system: different formulations intended to balance durability with the gradual wear needed to expose fresh abrasive.

That balance was the puzzle. A stone that disappeared too quickly wasn’t what I wanted. Neither was one that held together beautifully but stopped cleaning effectively.

I kept adjusting materials, proportions, and processes. Every answer seemed to bring another question.

The Toilet Ring That Laughed at Me

One local business let me demonstrate an early TurboStone on a mineral ring that looked like it might have been collecting deposits for half a century.

The owner was excited about the idea and started recording.

I went into that demonstration confidently. This was exactly the kind of problem I was trying to solve.

The toilet ring apparently hadn’t read my sales pitch.

It laughed at my stone.

That’s a humbling moment: someone believes in your idea, the camera is running, and you’re discovering in real time that you have considerably more work to do.

As far as I know, that toilet is still there. Waiting.

I think of it as the final boss in a video game. You encounter it partway through, get knocked down a few pegs, and realize you need better equipment and more experience before the rematch.

Some people get dragons. My final boss happens to be a toilet ring.

“Better, but Not Quite Good Enough”

That early formulation also made it onto Walmart.com.

I sent 25 units to their warehouse and sold 12. It was a faster-wearing version that produced a cleaning paste, and I priced it accordingly. I tried to make that behavior clearer in the listing, but getting the product language updated through Walmart was frustrating.

Meanwhile, customers were helping me understand how much further I needed to go.

Gretchen bought a three-pack hoping it would solve her pool-scale problem. After making what I thought were significant improvements, I sent her upgraded stones feeling pretty confident.

Her feedback was essentially: better, but not quite good enough.

That was hard to hear. But she had spent money hoping my invention would help, and I wanted to deliver something that did.

I wasn’t ready to give up.

The Science Marathon—and All the Waiting Around It

Before I could run the next round of experiments, I spent roughly a week to a week and a half waiting for different materials, powders, and equipment to arrive.

Waiting is a frustrating part of inventing something. You have an idea you want to test, but the next piece of the puzzle is somewhere in a delivery truck.

And in the back of my mind, Gretchen was still waiting for a solution.

When the materials arrived, I went deep: 113 pages of lab notes, four 12-hour days of experiments, research into compounds and silicates, and a 7 a.m. trip to Target for their last inverter microwave.

Yes. A microwave.

I was exploring more controlled drying. Along the way, I learned that conventional microwaves generally produce lower average power by cycling their heating on and off. Inverter models can reduce the output itself for steadier, gentler heating.

I went into this trying to make a rock spin on a drill and somehow came out knowing why some microwaves are fancier than others.

On a related note, anybody want to buy a practically new microwave?

After all that experimenting, I finally had to consider that the path I’d invested so much time in might not get me where I wanted to go.

That’s difficult to admit. You want the next adjustment to be the one that makes everything click.

Eventually, as a Hail Mary, I went in a different scientific direction and changed some key materials.

The Night I Didn’t Know How to Feel

The first test worked so well that I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.

I needed gloves, other protective equipment, and some materials for this new TurboStone evolution, so I headed to Walmart.

I remember walking through the store in a daze.

You’d think I would have been celebrating. Mostly, I was trying to process what had just happened while gathering what I needed to keep going.

Something I had chased through experiment after experiment had suddenly behaved the way I’d hoped.

It felt like a bullet train had grazed me and left me spinning like a leaf in its wake. Success, relief, and complete bafflement, all at once.

There was still testing to do. But for once, I wasn’t immediately thinking about the next weakness I needed to work around.

I wanted to see what this version could handle.

A Basement Mini-Boss

Before returning to that original business’s toilet, I found another challenge: a toilet in the basement of my aunt’s cabinet shop, with roughly 25 years of buildup.

This time, I brought the new formula.

And this time, TurboStone got the job done.

I came away with demonstration footage and evidence of it working on a stubborn, real-world cleaning problem.

That gave me the confidence to send the newer stones out for customer testing.

A package went to Gretchen in Arizona, with roughly another week spent in transit. Unfortunately, she was sick for a while and wasn’t able to get to the testing. She later passed a stone to a neighbor to try, and I’m still waiting for her full verdict.

After all the urgency of trying to solve the problem, there was more waiting.

I also sent the newer version to Dan in New Jersey, another pool customer who had been disappointed with an earlier version.

Dan tested it. His reply was the kind of message I had been hoping for.

He called it a winner and described getting done in roughly five minutes what had taken him about an hour by hand.

That was his experience with his particular cleaning job. To me, it was an enormous moment.

Finally, a breath of fresh air after holding my breath for weeks.

The original business’s toilet still awaits its rematch. I haven’t beaten that final boss yet.

But now I’ve got better equipment, more experience, and a very different stone.

Why I Asked Walmart to Dispose of the Rest

Once I saw what the newer formulation could do, I no longer felt proud of the earlier version sitting in Walmart’s warehouse.

So, after selling 12 of the 25 units I’d sent, I asked them to dispose of the remaining 13.

Those stones represented work, money, and hope. It wasn’t a fun decision.

But my standards had moved. I wanted the next customer to receive the version I was actually excited to put my name behind.

Walmart taught me a lot—about selling, explaining a product, managing expectations, and knowing when to turn the page.

The Part Where I Want to Say “Forever”

I’ll admit it: the current version has me wanting to say things like “lasts forever,” “lifetime guarantee,” and “you’ll only ever need one.”

That’s how encouraged I am by how it holds up.

But I haven’t tested a lifetime, and I’m not offering a lifetime guarantee.

There’s a pretty big difference between occasionally cleaning a household toilet ring and deciding you’re going to grind your way through every swimming pool in the county.

Somebody would eventually find a way to strap it to construction equipment, lean on it with 200 pounds of determination, and ask why “forever” ended before lunch.

TurboStone is still a wearing tool. Gradual wear exposes fresh abrasive. In my testing, that wear produces fine particles that mix with the water into a light slurry.

“Buy it once” is the kind of longevity I hope ordinary household users will experience. Time and actual use will tell that story.

After where I started, even being tempted to use those words feels like a milestone.

Three Shapes, Ready for a New Chapter

The current TurboStone lineup is now available on Amazon:

Classic: The smaller, lighter option for tighter spaces.

XL: A larger cone with approximately 37% more working volume than Classic.

Wide: A broader shape for more surface contact.

Each kit includes one stone and a removable drill adapter. You supply the drill and use the stone wet, following the surface-testing and use instructions.

Each stone is individually molded by hand and inspected by the person who has spent an unreasonable amount of time thinking about it.

That would be me.

I’ve learned one other thing along the way: never name a 3D design “final version.”

Save it as version 13.2 with a small note about what you changed. Leave yourself some dignity.

Now Comes a Different Challenge

The engineering has settled enough that I can focus more on production and getting TurboStone into people’s hands.

I’m almost a little sad about that. The experimenting has been fascinating—even when it was frustrating.

Now I get to learn how to explain why I was so excited about this thing before it existed.

I’ve lived with TurboStone in my head and my workshop for so long that it’s hard to remember somebody else is seeing it for the first time.

Maybe they already use pumice. Maybe they’re tired of repetitive hand scrubbing. Maybe they clean for a living and would appreciate putting a drill to work on some of that stubborn buildup.

Or maybe they’ve searched for “pumice for a drill” over and over, just like I did.

If that’s you, I’d love for you to take a look.

Explore TurboStone Classic on Amazon · Explore XL · Explore Wide

You can also shop directly at TurboStone.shop.

A Fun Little Niche Adventure

Whether TurboStone grows into a thriving business or remains a fun little niche adventure, I’ve gained something worth keeping.

The science, the experiments, the new tools, and the willingness to step into situations I had no idea how to handle—all of that comes with me into whatever I do next.

There’s something pretty magical about following an idea far enough to hold it in your hands. It’s expanded my horizons and given me something I enjoy working toward. That’s already a success in its own right.

I’m excited to see where this goes, and I’ll keep putting thought and effort into it—while making room for the people, cats, and other adventures that make life worth enjoying along the way.

TurboStone. Pumice, rebuilt for the task.

TurboStone

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2026

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