Pug-butter
BANNED
- Joined
- Jan 25, 2012
- Messages
- 743
In my short life I've found patience is one of those things that people like to say are important to success, but are also so incongruously lacking. Delays anger us; deadlines are a required stress. And I thought I could not feel any more impatient than when I'm waiting for a new knife to show up—for that little text box on that little green website to say "Delivered."
Nearly two months ago I asked the forum for a frugal leather sheath to replace the nylon one, which has begun already to fray, that hosts my BK7. BaldingEagle was the first and only to reply. He asked me what I wanted in my sheath and I complied, but by his stubborn graciousness refused to negotiate a price with me. I was thrilled to receive such a gift, however much I wracked my mind over what I would owe him some day for what he has done. Throughout the subsequent weeks Balding kept me updated on the progress of the sheath, through pictures and writing. We also spoke for some time about what we were doing with ourselves. He's an Air Force dentist who empathized with my struggle to find the money for college, and I really cannot thank him enough already for the great generosity he has displayed to me.
About a week back he gave me the package's tracking number. It was finally ready to go and I was ecstatic, twiddling my thumbs for Friday to arrive. Well, I was sitting at the computer today, between classes, waiting for that big brown truck we all know and love to roll by. Every time I heard squealing brakes I lept from my seat to investigate, only to find street sweepers and the occasional garbage disposal vehicle. It was not until another class had passed and I retired my pack for the day that I saw the box on the kitchen counter, brought in by my investigative mother. I immediately did battle with the cardboard and the tape, and then went upstairs for the BK7 so it could ceremoniously clothe itself. Working at the bubble wrap with the big bowie was like brain surgery: should I feed my excitement, work quickly, possibly damaging the sheath? Or should I use caution while being eaten by my own caustic joy?
When my hand, dainty and weak by compare, finally felt the thick leather, I knew immediately the sheath was designed for work. There's no pliancy here. The brass snaps, large and rustic, take considerable effort to release. Even so I was quick to find a belt and place this piece of art at my side. In doing so I noticed the sheath's most characteristic feature: everything is tight. I took a good minute pulling at the snaps to secure the sheath at my belt, which had added to circumference. I managed, but it's definitely not going anywhere unless I want it to. Likewise, the retention snap is completely redundant. The squeeze of the leather walls is so totally constrictive that I could vertically hang the sheath from a pack and not worry about a thing. How many leather pieces can make the same claim? The point of balance is somewhere at the handle side when the knife is doffed but the weight disappears at my side; the scout straps are spaced far apart and do nothing to harm comfort.
The D-ring, though redundant in security, might prove useful for other fares. I'm thinking about digging out an old carabeener and using it as a place to hold my keys (a small mag-lite, a multitool,...) whenever it's on my belt. And, of course, I love the warm color of brass.
There are no pictures in this thread because my camera's lens has electronically jammed. When I turn it on I hear a nasty little taptaptaptaptaptap, like tiny gears futilely grinding to try to move the lens out, and the batteries continue to drain until I remove them from their sockets. Like my father likes to say, "Technology is wonderful until it doesn't work." I think that's why I like the look of good, old-fashioned leather on my hip over Space-age materials.
On that note this is my public thank-you to BaldingEagle. I have been very privileged to be chosen as his test subject for his leather-works, which he says he might one day turn into a business at the side of his day-trade. I'm not surprised. And if he's still making sheaths by the time this one rots away (in a few decades or so) I'll be honored to give him a good price for another.
Nearly two months ago I asked the forum for a frugal leather sheath to replace the nylon one, which has begun already to fray, that hosts my BK7. BaldingEagle was the first and only to reply. He asked me what I wanted in my sheath and I complied, but by his stubborn graciousness refused to negotiate a price with me. I was thrilled to receive such a gift, however much I wracked my mind over what I would owe him some day for what he has done. Throughout the subsequent weeks Balding kept me updated on the progress of the sheath, through pictures and writing. We also spoke for some time about what we were doing with ourselves. He's an Air Force dentist who empathized with my struggle to find the money for college, and I really cannot thank him enough already for the great generosity he has displayed to me.
About a week back he gave me the package's tracking number. It was finally ready to go and I was ecstatic, twiddling my thumbs for Friday to arrive. Well, I was sitting at the computer today, between classes, waiting for that big brown truck we all know and love to roll by. Every time I heard squealing brakes I lept from my seat to investigate, only to find street sweepers and the occasional garbage disposal vehicle. It was not until another class had passed and I retired my pack for the day that I saw the box on the kitchen counter, brought in by my investigative mother. I immediately did battle with the cardboard and the tape, and then went upstairs for the BK7 so it could ceremoniously clothe itself. Working at the bubble wrap with the big bowie was like brain surgery: should I feed my excitement, work quickly, possibly damaging the sheath? Or should I use caution while being eaten by my own caustic joy?
When my hand, dainty and weak by compare, finally felt the thick leather, I knew immediately the sheath was designed for work. There's no pliancy here. The brass snaps, large and rustic, take considerable effort to release. Even so I was quick to find a belt and place this piece of art at my side. In doing so I noticed the sheath's most characteristic feature: everything is tight. I took a good minute pulling at the snaps to secure the sheath at my belt, which had added to circumference. I managed, but it's definitely not going anywhere unless I want it to. Likewise, the retention snap is completely redundant. The squeeze of the leather walls is so totally constrictive that I could vertically hang the sheath from a pack and not worry about a thing. How many leather pieces can make the same claim? The point of balance is somewhere at the handle side when the knife is doffed but the weight disappears at my side; the scout straps are spaced far apart and do nothing to harm comfort.
The D-ring, though redundant in security, might prove useful for other fares. I'm thinking about digging out an old carabeener and using it as a place to hold my keys (a small mag-lite, a multitool,...) whenever it's on my belt. And, of course, I love the warm color of brass.
There are no pictures in this thread because my camera's lens has electronically jammed. When I turn it on I hear a nasty little taptaptaptaptaptap, like tiny gears futilely grinding to try to move the lens out, and the batteries continue to drain until I remove them from their sockets. Like my father likes to say, "Technology is wonderful until it doesn't work." I think that's why I like the look of good, old-fashioned leather on my hip over Space-age materials.
On that note this is my public thank-you to BaldingEagle. I have been very privileged to be chosen as his test subject for his leather-works, which he says he might one day turn into a business at the side of his day-trade. I'm not surprised. And if he's still making sheaths by the time this one rots away (in a few decades or so) I'll be honored to give him a good price for another.
