There is something quite satisfying, isn't there? I have done more of this in my life that you can shake a stick at. If I valued my time at anything at all, the economics would never work out compared to going to a store that sells salvaged old growth and buying it.
I have a portable bandsaw, so I often start with large timbers, skimming a century's worth of paint off the surface and squaring them up, hoping I found all the nails first.
One particular timber, old growth western red cedar that somehow found its way into an old warehouse in the Bay Area, had a large bullet lodged in it. The tree had grown around it, been cut down, sawn into lumber, been incorporated into a building for 100 years, dismantled and is now part of the siding on my house.
These pieces of wood have stories.
(I documented the whole process with this particular timber. This reminds me to write a little story about it.)