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The BladeForums.com 2024 Traditional Knife is ready to order! See this thread for details: https://www.bladeforums.com/threads/bladeforums-2024-traditional-knife.2003187/
Price is$300$250 ea (shipped within CONUS). If you live outside the US, I will contact you after your order for extra shipping charges.
Order here: https://www.bladeforums.com/help/2024-traditional/ - Order as many as you like, we have plenty.
"Carl's Lounge" (Off-Topic Discussion, Traditional Knife "Tales & Vignettes")
- Thread starter jackknife
- Start date
- Joined
- Feb 22, 2007
- Messages
- 9,008
Its the end of the world!!!!!!
I broke my only fishing pole, the fish wont catch themself!!!
Make a bamboo one
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2003
- Messages
- 5,283
Not sure, I might just re-use the berkley reel and see what rods are available in the 8' range...apparently the rod is under warranty but the cost to ship it in will be more than the whole rig (I got it in a 40% off sale when fishing season opened).
I did however before it broke catch some fish I've never caught before, fishing here in the US is surreal because I've only ever fished the pacific ocean on the coast of Australia lol.
I did however before it broke catch some fish I've never caught before, fishing here in the US is surreal because I've only ever fished the pacific ocean on the coast of Australia lol.
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2003
- Messages
- 5,283
I'll see if I can find them at the fishing store out my way, I'll give anything a try after seeing mine explode into splinters lol. I have a few old rods I found in my house I just bought but they are far from usable atm, one is made of steel...weird how flexible it is!
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2010
- Messages
- 1,832
I know a lot of you guys fish. This is a link to an article I wrote about general fishing. Maybe it will give you a chuckle. You might even learn something. 
And if you click on my head you can see a slideshow of some nice fish: http://www.theonlinefisherman.com/c...hing-stories/5624-things-i-know-about-fishing
And if you click on my head you can see a slideshow of some nice fish: http://www.theonlinefisherman.com/c...hing-stories/5624-things-i-know-about-fishing
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2003
- Messages
- 5,283
I know a lot of you guys fish. This is a link to an article I wrote about general fishing. Maybe it will give you a chuckle. You might even learn something.
And if you click on my head you can see a slideshow of some nice fish: http://www.theonlinefisherman.com/c...hing-stories/5624-things-i-know-about-fishing
That was a great read!
Thanks for posting it...I caught my personal best for freshwater yesterday myself (a 20" striped bass) and for the most part I catch, photograph and then release but I do keep the bigger side of things that will make a decent meal. Taking a couple weeks off though till the walleye are spawning here.
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2010
- Messages
- 1,832
Thanks for reading it and congrats on the lunker.
That was a great read!
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- Apr 17, 2003
- Messages
- 5,283
https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.ne...8126316601_600566600_9585088_1150876649_n.jpg
Heres a pic of her, nice fight to get it in too! almost as good as some deep sea I've had the pleasure of catching...I bookmarked your link to show some fisherman friends, I bet they'll enjoy reading it.
Heres a pic of her, nice fight to get it in too! almost as good as some deep sea I've had the pleasure of catching...I bookmarked your link to show some fisherman friends, I bet they'll enjoy reading it.
- Joined
- Feb 22, 2007
- Messages
- 9,008
Hi guys,
Hope everyone is enjoying the weekend. My girlfriend and I were just sitting under a tree whittling and we were talking about burl. She walked the dog down by the woods and right by the entrance found a recently downed tree with a large burl on it. There are a ton of trees with burl behind us but this one was already down. So we got the saw and cut it out. It must weigh 100+ pounds. Here is a pic with my 3 1/2 inch whittle for scale.
Here is a pic of a leaf off it.
It was good timing. Its still good and strong and not rotten. I guess the recent storms took it down.
Anyhow, we were thinking its a type of Mulberry but I was hoping maybe someone here may know for sure?
Thanks,
Kevin
Hope everyone is enjoying the weekend. My girlfriend and I were just sitting under a tree whittling and we were talking about burl. She walked the dog down by the woods and right by the entrance found a recently downed tree with a large burl on it. There are a ton of trees with burl behind us but this one was already down. So we got the saw and cut it out. It must weigh 100+ pounds. Here is a pic with my 3 1/2 inch whittle for scale.
Here is a pic of a leaf off it.
It was good timing. Its still good and strong and not rotten. I guess the recent storms took it down.
Anyhow, we were thinking its a type of Mulberry but I was hoping maybe someone here may know for sure?
Thanks,
Kevin
- Joined
- May 7, 2011
- Messages
- 3,426
Sardinia, summer 1928.
The wellness of the '20s had reached even the innermost part of the island, and people were smiling happily while they walked the streets of the small village for the party. It was early June, summer has come, and it was a beautiful sunday. One week before, and for the first time ever, the village had reached 2000 people, with the birth
of Maria, the mayor's third child. Spring had brought a good harvest, grape seemed to be starting fine, and people were just enjoying the small village fair.
But the kid wasn't thinking about any of that. He felt excited and anxious. He looked around, and saw many people around him. It seemed that the whole village was in the street...and possibly more. The race for local horses would start in minutes, followed by the one open to any horse. The track was approximately one mile long, first half outside the village, on the main road leading up, and the second half inside the village, ending in a tape between the local pharmacy and the house of the primary school teacher. One mile, but running upwards. The kid knew it was harder than what it seemed.
He looked around. There were a dozen horses going round and round in the starting area. The local vet would start the race; he had drawn a line in the ground with a cane, and would signal the start waving down a short stick with a white handkerchief tied on top of it. The kid knew most of the horses around him, and most of the jockeys too...which made him feel nervous. He had grown up among horses and he knew how evil jockeys could be, even if he was by far the youngest of the race.
He was mounting a great horse, an arab/sardinian male nicknamed "Cheese" for its color, something in between grey and beige. He loved this horse; Mimmia, the owner (a good friend of his father) had insisted that the kid would mount it for the race. He would turn 16 by the end of the year, so why not? This would be the first one open to adults (both horses and jockeys), but he knew how to stay on a horse (he had even won a couple races before), even though for his tiny figure (1,60m and 40 kilos) it wasn't easy to stay ontop without a saddle. On the other hand, and since the race was upwards, being light would help the horse, which had proved his strength in other races.
He looked to his left. He wasn't sure about the horse, a dark brown male, but he recognized the jockey from his bushy eyebrow and square head. Even if he came from another village, Barore was known around there, and he knew the kid pretty well, since had stayed at his place for more than one year, taking care of his dad's horses. His eyes told of his will to win the race, even though he couldn't avoid showing his surprise when he saw the kid mounting by his side. He remembered him as a ten year old child, and now he was racing against him. Barore shrugged his shoulders and turned his horse to the right.
Two false starts made the whole race even more nervous and filled with tension. One of the horses looked really nervous and the jockey could barely control him. As he moved nervously inside the starting area, the other horses were forced to move away, thus creating some confusion.
The kid never knew if it was luck, or if the vet had actually chosen to help him somehow. Either way, when he lowered the white handkerchief, the kid was perfectly aligned with the starting line, on the outer side of a long curve of the road, and facing the right direction. Before half of the horses had crossed the starting line, he was way ahead of all of them, his spurs pushing Cheese ahead, in the late afternoon sun. But he knew it would not be that easy. A few seconds later, he sensed other horses getting closer, and as he was taking the last two curves before entering the village, he saw them getting closer. Cheese wasn't tired, but he knew that at least two horses
in that race were faster than him...and they were coming after him. At the entrance of the village, turning his head back as they made a curve to the left, he saw the dark brown horse at one length behind him, and Barore shouting frenzied. The finish line wasn't far, but not that close even. In a rush of pride, he knew he wouldn't let him pass, or at least not easily. He moved Cheese a bit towards the left of the road, while people were shouting from the windows. He knew Barore would only have
one chance to pass him before they got to the pharmacy, so he wanted to be sure on where he would try. His father (who had dismissed Barore for drinking too much) had always said that the guy was smart, even cunning, so the kid wanted to make the call, even though it would be a risky call. When Barore got closer, at just one length behind him, the kid started closing him towards the right side of the road, knowing he would have no chance to change side without losing speed...and the finish line was close. He felt the breath of the dark horse on him, and looked down to his right feet. There were no curves on the last 200 metres, and his biggest worry was that the guy would try to lift his feet up and make him fall. And that's what the guy tried to do, feeling no shame towards a 15 year old kid. But Cheese still had enough to speed up, and when Barore pushed his left leg aside to do the trick, the kid has gained one more yard so his foot only kicked the grey/beige side of the horse, losing balance. An old guy from a balcony saw the whole thing and shouted at him in anger and disapproval. No tricks against a kid.
But the kid was way ahead again, crossing the finish line with a shout and immediately looking around to find his father and Mimmia looking back at him with pride.
There would be time to deal with Barore later. Now, the kid just deserved all their attentions for winning his first adult race.
Fausto
The wellness of the '20s had reached even the innermost part of the island, and people were smiling happily while they walked the streets of the small village for the party. It was early June, summer has come, and it was a beautiful sunday. One week before, and for the first time ever, the village had reached 2000 people, with the birth
of Maria, the mayor's third child. Spring had brought a good harvest, grape seemed to be starting fine, and people were just enjoying the small village fair.
But the kid wasn't thinking about any of that. He felt excited and anxious. He looked around, and saw many people around him. It seemed that the whole village was in the street...and possibly more. The race for local horses would start in minutes, followed by the one open to any horse. The track was approximately one mile long, first half outside the village, on the main road leading up, and the second half inside the village, ending in a tape between the local pharmacy and the house of the primary school teacher. One mile, but running upwards. The kid knew it was harder than what it seemed.
He looked around. There were a dozen horses going round and round in the starting area. The local vet would start the race; he had drawn a line in the ground with a cane, and would signal the start waving down a short stick with a white handkerchief tied on top of it. The kid knew most of the horses around him, and most of the jockeys too...which made him feel nervous. He had grown up among horses and he knew how evil jockeys could be, even if he was by far the youngest of the race.
He was mounting a great horse, an arab/sardinian male nicknamed "Cheese" for its color, something in between grey and beige. He loved this horse; Mimmia, the owner (a good friend of his father) had insisted that the kid would mount it for the race. He would turn 16 by the end of the year, so why not? This would be the first one open to adults (both horses and jockeys), but he knew how to stay on a horse (he had even won a couple races before), even though for his tiny figure (1,60m and 40 kilos) it wasn't easy to stay ontop without a saddle. On the other hand, and since the race was upwards, being light would help the horse, which had proved his strength in other races.
He looked to his left. He wasn't sure about the horse, a dark brown male, but he recognized the jockey from his bushy eyebrow and square head. Even if he came from another village, Barore was known around there, and he knew the kid pretty well, since had stayed at his place for more than one year, taking care of his dad's horses. His eyes told of his will to win the race, even though he couldn't avoid showing his surprise when he saw the kid mounting by his side. He remembered him as a ten year old child, and now he was racing against him. Barore shrugged his shoulders and turned his horse to the right.
Two false starts made the whole race even more nervous and filled with tension. One of the horses looked really nervous and the jockey could barely control him. As he moved nervously inside the starting area, the other horses were forced to move away, thus creating some confusion.
The kid never knew if it was luck, or if the vet had actually chosen to help him somehow. Either way, when he lowered the white handkerchief, the kid was perfectly aligned with the starting line, on the outer side of a long curve of the road, and facing the right direction. Before half of the horses had crossed the starting line, he was way ahead of all of them, his spurs pushing Cheese ahead, in the late afternoon sun. But he knew it would not be that easy. A few seconds later, he sensed other horses getting closer, and as he was taking the last two curves before entering the village, he saw them getting closer. Cheese wasn't tired, but he knew that at least two horses
in that race were faster than him...and they were coming after him. At the entrance of the village, turning his head back as they made a curve to the left, he saw the dark brown horse at one length behind him, and Barore shouting frenzied. The finish line wasn't far, but not that close even. In a rush of pride, he knew he wouldn't let him pass, or at least not easily. He moved Cheese a bit towards the left of the road, while people were shouting from the windows. He knew Barore would only have
one chance to pass him before they got to the pharmacy, so he wanted to be sure on where he would try. His father (who had dismissed Barore for drinking too much) had always said that the guy was smart, even cunning, so the kid wanted to make the call, even though it would be a risky call. When Barore got closer, at just one length behind him, the kid started closing him towards the right side of the road, knowing he would have no chance to change side without losing speed...and the finish line was close. He felt the breath of the dark horse on him, and looked down to his right feet. There were no curves on the last 200 metres, and his biggest worry was that the guy would try to lift his feet up and make him fall. And that's what the guy tried to do, feeling no shame towards a 15 year old kid. But Cheese still had enough to speed up, and when Barore pushed his left leg aside to do the trick, the kid has gained one more yard so his foot only kicked the grey/beige side of the horse, losing balance. An old guy from a balcony saw the whole thing and shouted at him in anger and disapproval. No tricks against a kid.
But the kid was way ahead again, crossing the finish line with a shout and immediately looking around to find his father and Mimmia looking back at him with pride.
There would be time to deal with Barore later. Now, the kid just deserved all their attentions for winning his first adult race.
Fausto
Yesterday I went to the celebration of "our" liberation day (thanks a lot all you Americans and Canadians)
I knew from last year there would be security at the entrance, so I left my Opinel 8 at home and took my Vic Alox Bantam with me so I had the least chance that my knife would be confiscated when searched.
Last year I could walk through with my Pioneer in my pocket however this year there was a young and eager sucurity guard who noticed right away the Rambler dangling from my key ring.
I took it off with no problems but I had to empty all my pockets as well. While doing so the young guy said he had to arrest me, but the older guard said "Do you really want to fill out a 1000 reports?" "It's celebration day so let him walk through" and he tossed my Rambler in a trash bin they had standing there.
Luckily I was only half way through emptying my pockets or I would have lost my Bantam as well.
And especially lucky I wasn't carrying my little yellow friend the Peanut.
This one is very hard to replace for me.
And I got lucked out on this one: After half a year of steady use still not a hint of play.
Well al in all a pity I lost my Rambler, but maybe a nice chance to try out if I can be a 1 knife person with only a Peanut, a Sears 4 way, Fenix E01 and a P38 with sharpened hook.
But I will take better care next year. Was a very close call.
I knew from last year there would be security at the entrance, so I left my Opinel 8 at home and took my Vic Alox Bantam with me so I had the least chance that my knife would be confiscated when searched.
Last year I could walk through with my Pioneer in my pocket however this year there was a young and eager sucurity guard who noticed right away the Rambler dangling from my key ring.
I took it off with no problems but I had to empty all my pockets as well. While doing so the young guy said he had to arrest me, but the older guard said "Do you really want to fill out a 1000 reports?" "It's celebration day so let him walk through" and he tossed my Rambler in a trash bin they had standing there.
Luckily I was only half way through emptying my pockets or I would have lost my Bantam as well.
And especially lucky I wasn't carrying my little yellow friend the Peanut.
This one is very hard to replace for me.
And I got lucked out on this one: After half a year of steady use still not a hint of play.
Well al in all a pity I lost my Rambler, but maybe a nice chance to try out if I can be a 1 knife person with only a Peanut, a Sears 4 way, Fenix E01 and a P38 with sharpened hook.
But I will take better care next year. Was a very close call.