We met my in laws at a beach house (rental) near Santa Cruz for a couple of days. The kitchen knives were pretty bad. Fortunately I had my Al Mar Falcon Ultra Light (PE). It worked great! My MIL looked at me funny and asked my why I didn't use the knives they had there.........
I was at a friend's roommate's parent's house. The mom was cooking dinner for us and bludgeoning through artichokes with a horribly dulled Shun chef's knife. I handed her my Bark River Rising Wolf, which was MUCH easier to use. She finished up prepping dinner with my pocket knife while I used my Edge Pro to put her Shun back in working condition.*
*The friend's roommate later told me that I had ruined it for any guy she would later bring home to meet her parents.
One time I was having a really hard time opening a bag of doritos. I couldn't for the life of me tear it open and I was so hungry, almost desperate enough to just sit on it to make the bag pop.
Then suddenly I remembered I had my trusty EDC on me. I took the knife out of my pocket with drool already drizzling down the side of my mouth. With eyes widened like a deer in the headlight I gently stabbed the tip of the blade into the bag, and with one swift outward motion with my hand I sliced the bag wide open.
Released was an ever so sweet scent of cheese and spices that made me salivate even more. Without even closing my knife I reached in and grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed it into my mouth with the utmost ferocity. Suddenly tears poured down my face like niagra falls as I wepted like a little girl who just lost her new puppy named "Lucy".
I have never been more grateful to have a knife on me.
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cuttin twine off from hay bales a a farm, away from a barn for a knife,
Using my "Beater" EAB folder handle as a hammer for wrought iron fence posts,
cutting steak when no knife was given to me,
I hate those damn clampaks......
I got turned around in an unfamiliar swamp years ago while bowhunting. I was hunting alone and got caught out a bit late as I was listening to a critter moving more or less in my direction. Before I realized it, the sun was down and the light was fading fast. There was no way I was going to be able to navigate my way out of that swamp and I wasn't ready to take a misstep in a "bath" of water that was cold. I realized then that I was screwed until daylight. I was in my early 20's then, (I'm 58). I can honestly say that I learned a lot of things about myself that night and having a fire made all the difference in the world. After I settled down and finished calling myself every name in the book, I got to a high spot and went to work on a fire. The small roll of toilet paper, Bic lighter (which were fairly new back then), a Schrade-Walden hunting knife, and a tube of Chapstick that I had in my pocket turned the trick. I got a fire started. I sat up all night feeding that fire with what dry wood that I could forage. I also taught myself how to make feather sticks, even though (at the time), I'd never known of such a thing. Necessity is the mother of invention, I guess. That fire had to burn all night with me crouched around it. That fire saw me through that night. It pushed back the panic. I thought I was invincible.
This was in Northern Wisconsin in early November. I can still remember it like it happened yesterday. That knife saved my life, though (in all honesty) what bowhunter is going to go out without one?
I still have the knife, though I'm told by the guys on the Schrade thread that it's a very rare collectible. Only one of three or four known to exist. It's a Schrade-Walden Uncle Henry 153.
After having used this blade to field dress/skin many whitetails, coons and a few hogs, as well as general camping and back packing trips too numerous to list, it has been retired. I've owned and used this knife heavily since 1973. Is it my favorite knife? Yes, but not because of its rarity (which I had no clue of before joining this forum). It's my favorite because of how well it has served me over the decades. It has a place in my life that no other knife (and I've got plenty of others since I've gotten "bit"), can ever replace.
I really wish this knife could talk after I'm gone.
Great story, Jakeboy. That knife might not be able to talk after you're gone, but you can talk while you're still here. Write out your story, print it on some cardstock, laminate it, and attach it to the sheath with a string. Your (assumed) kids will cherish it.
The young need to make their own history, though a keepsake like this would be valuable.
I have a silver dollar coin (dated 1895, the date of my Grandfather's birth), that my Grandfather carried in his pocket for most of his life. Even in France when in WWI, where he was wounded in battle. It's actually worn mostly smooth. It's the most valuable thing I own.
i know what you mean there. Shortly before my grandfather passed he gave me a silver dollar. It's in great shape, though not worth much compared to some of the silver coins from it's day. But it's the first dollar his father made after getting to the U.S. from Switzerland. The most valuable thing I own, next to his wings. You should definately record your knife's story for whoever you pass it to. You never know, it could be a prized posession- as it should be.I have a silver dollar coin (dated 1895, the date of my Grandfather's birth), that my Grandfather carried in his pocket for most of his life. Even in France when in WWI, where he was wounded in battle. It's actually worn mostly smooth. It's the most valuable thing I own.
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