"Carl's Lounge" (Off-Topic Discussion, Traditional Knife "Tales & Vignettes")

sturzi said:
Hooray
Finally submitted my master thesis today after 6 months of work AND the forum knife is shipping, it has been a wonderful day
Time to celebrate :D

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Congratulations! Torpedo: One of my favourite beers :) :thumbup:

sturzi said:
Thanks
It's customized to have the tools I regularly use, and since the plastic scales got a little damaged while taking it apart I made some from a piece of walnut that was lying around.

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Really like the SAK, great work :)
 
wouldestous said:
lol
it was almost a year and a half between completing the field research and submitting my thesis. you sound like an overacheiver. lol

congrats!
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Haha, not really. Unfortunately that's the given deadline, so there's no easy way around it. I sure would have liked some more time :)

Jack Black said:
Congratulations! Torpedo: One of my favourite beers :) :thumbup:
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Yeah, I discovered it while on vacation over there and haven't found anything else quite like it. Although it's not to everyone's liking, some friends say it's too bitter and smells like soap :D
 
Jackknife;

You recommend having a bottle cap with you for scaling fish.

Here, http://www.fieldandstream.com/articles/fishing/2012/10/use-bottle-cap-hold-slippery-fish-fillets-place, courtesy of Field & Stream, is another fishy use for a crown cap. I've never tried it, but it looks like a good idea to me.

Before you skin a fish fillet, open a bottle of beer and save the cap. Place your fillet skin side down and slice 1⁄2 inch of skin from the meat at the tail. Press the bottle-cap edge into the skin with your thumb to keep it taut while you slice the flesh away.
 
Going down the ocean Friday morning, and will hopefully stay there through next Tuesday. A bad storm is supposed to move in Sunday night, and last until Wednesday morning. Most of my trip will involve hiking and fishing at Chincoteague and the Chincoteague portion of the Assateauge seashore, Saturday, and on Sunday hiking and fishing on the Maryland side of the Assateauge seashore. Weather is supposed to go from 70's and bright sunshine to 50's and rain overnight Sunday. Might just come home Sunday night if weather is bad, hoping this doesn't get postponed till next year. The way the news is laid out, it will be a near hurricane. I really don't feel like driving 3 hours home in that mess. Well, a bar is right across the street, I can wait the storm out there :D with a dozen crabs and a half dozen hard ciders :cool:. Didn't have anything planned for Monday other than visiting the boardwalk, maybe the casino. Going down solo, and might meet up with some friends who still work down there. Hoping to hit the knife shop down there on the way home Tuesday.
 
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silenthunterstudios said:
Going down the ocean Friday morning, and will hopefully stay there through next Tuesday. A bad storm is supposed to move in Sunday night, and last until Wednesday morning. Most of my trip will involve hiking and fishing at Chincoteague and the Chincoteague portion of the Assateauge seashore, Saturday, and on Sunday hiking and fishing on the Maryland side of the Assateauge seashore.
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Does this mean you're healing up well? Sure looks like it!

I hope so. :)

~ P.
 
pertinux said:
Does this mean you're healing up well? Sure looks like it!

I hope so. :)

~ P.
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This is what I'm hoping to do. We'll find out when I get there. I'm getting around a lot better, still in a lot of pain, but more mobile. The cold air makes my left leg feel like deadweight, having a hard time getting up from a sitting position. Still need a cane or walking stick to get around. Broken ribs that sometimes pop out of place when I laugh or cough are the biggest complaints right now. Still not being able to lift anything without my chest cartilage feeling like it is going to break in half is exasperating, but supposedly I have to wait a couple more months. Back pain is bad after sitting too long in traffic or at my desk, but has gotten a lot better overall. On rainy or cold days, my leg acts up pretty bad. I've been steadily losing weight, sugar and bp are doing pretty good. I figure if I can get through this winter, which is supposed to be bad in the mid Atlantic, I can get rid of a good portion of this flab in time for next winter.

Took my little brother to a hiking trail on Saturday, it was too muddy and the trail is RIGHT next to the Gunpowder river. Other side of the river, was a footbridge going to a more secure trail, right along the river, and that footbridge was washed away in torrential downpour the night before. The trails that I will be walking on are either footbridges over sandy marsh, or paved gravel paths through sandy marsh, in Assateague island seashore park. Other than pain, I don't see it as being too terribly difficult this weekend.

In altogether un-related news, I found my GEC bull nose soddie farm and field tool, and my father found my Buck 301 in his truck.
 
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silenthunterstudios said:
This is what I'm hoping to do. We'll find out when I get there. I'm getting around a lot better, still in a lot of pain, but more mobile.
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Years ago, a friend and I developed a "cringe theory" of healing, how one of the signs that things were improving was a sometimes subtle move from shuddering at the thought of a given task or activity, to desiring the challenge or determining it worth it-- no longer cringing at its mention. It's a visceral response that is different than simply being stir-crazy or missing doing certain things.

It sounds like you still have a way to go, but I'm heartened that you've come as far you have. Be careful.

I'm glad your knives are finding their way back to you. :thumbup:

~ P.
 
In regards to some things, I figure I'm healed up enough, I can basically do anything. Other things, I am afraid to do it, because the doctor told me not to do it a couple months ago. At least I don't have to chop, cut and stack firewood this year. I never thought I'd miss it. Hoping those snowy winter mornings won't be so bad.
 
silenthunterstudios said:
In regards to some things, I figure I'm healed up enough, I can basically do anything. Other things, I am afraid to do it, because the doctor told me not to do it a couple months ago. At least I don't have to chop, cut and stack firewood this year. I never thought I'd miss it. Hoping those snowy winter mornings won't be so bad.
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I'm mid-Atlantic also. Is this coming winter really supposed to be that bad? I haven't heard anything yet.

~ P.
 
I'm in the Baltimore-Harrisburg corridor, right on the MD/PA state line a few miles from I83. From what I've heard, we're supposed to get some snow in the next couple weeks. Supposed to be a bad winter by all accounts. Cold, snowy and icy. Where are you located?
 
silenthunterstudios said:
I'm in the Baltimore-Harrisburg corridor, right on the MD/PA state line a few miles from I83. From what I've heard, we're supposed to get some snow in the next couple weeks. Supposed to be a bad winter by all accounts. Cold, snowy and icy. Where are you located?
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Look out the window.

Nah, just kidding.

Whew.

Email sent. :)

~ P.
 
...or a Peanut, or an Opinel, or a Buck 303, or anything like that.
I'm back after a few days out, and with a short story to share.
For the greater part of this week, I was "abroad" (meaning outside Sardinia, in the continental part of the island :D ) and knifeless. Why? Because I could only carry hand luggage, so no blade permitted.
I love knives, but I'm not among those who claim that a knife is an absolut need. I just like to have one, and it comes in handy.
But for some mysterious reason, or probably for Murphy's law (you need something the very moment you don't have it at reach), I found myself craving for a Victorinox Classic. I felt the need of a blade (no matter how small), scissors, tweezers, even a nail file, and thinking about my SAK's back home. Yes I know what you're thinking...I should have bought one. I thought the same thing, but believe me, I couldn't find one anywhere (nor did I have a few hours a day for knife hunting); I just stumbled into a bunch of cheap low quality modern folders, and I passed by.
Now, I'm back home...and the odds are that I will probably not use my SAK's or traditionals for days. This morning though, when I took a look at it before putting it back into my pocket. I felt like my Ambassador (a 3" Classic, for those who are unfamiliar with it) was smiling at me. Or rather grinning. I wonder if it was joking at me...

Anyway...I'm back :)

Fausto
:cool:
 
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No Knives In Knaresborough​

I unexpectedly had a free day on Wednesday, so I figured I’d go hunting old slipjoints in a local market. The only fly in the ointment was that in much of Yorkshire, Wednesday is a day when markets are generally closed, and in the past, shops closed early. Why I don’t know, but it gave one early English soccer club, many of whose players were local shop-keepers, the unusual name of Sheffield Wednesday (since they played on Wednesday afternoons).

The only Wednesday market I could find within easy travelling distance was in the historic town of Knaresborough in North Yorkshire. Knaresborough (pronounced ‘Nairsbrur’) is an attractive place, which is located on the River Nidd, over which an impressive railway viaduct brings visitors to the town. It has a castle, some interesting shops, a few good pubs, and a market, which apparently dates back to at least 1206.

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The spectacular Knaresborough Viaduct​

I’ve seen the river, viaduct, castle, and pubs quite a few times before, but never actually caught the market, so I thought it might be worth trying for a spot of knife bargain-hunting. The town is a pretty place, and the market fills the ancient market-place well. I quickly realised though that I wasn’t going to find much in the market beyond a bag of potatoes or a cloth cap. There was a hardware stall, from which I bought some cable-ties and a nail-brush (so I could transfer my old one to knife-cleaning duty), but it didn’t really sell anything I couldn’t have got anywhere else.

In the middle of the market square I spotted a town-crier in full regalia, with an impressive range of bells behind him. I thought I’d listen to what he had to say, but it turned out he had a sore throat and was just posing speechless for some journalists. It was only today, just as I write this in fact, that while looking to see if I could find the story online, I stumbled upon the local scandal that the Knaresborough town-crier had recently been suspended because of “unspecified complaints”!


The Knaresborough Town-crier - A controversial figure!​

Upon further investigation into the matter at http://www.topix.com/forum/uk/knaresborough/T1GJBE6L4G6L9O90M#comments I noted that ‘Jonny’ reckoned the town-crier had “been a source of embarrassment/nuisance to the town.” While ‘Gareth L’ claimed to have “been witness to the collective groan that occurs when he takes weekly to the stage.” Dave went even further, claiming that the town-crier was suspended for “making a pest of himself”, directing racist remarks at the German team in the town’s annual “Bed Race”! “Surely a "pillar" of the community wouldn't start chanting "who won the war??" " Dave continued. I only read the first few (of 94) comments on this thread, but clearly there is a darker side to Knaresborough that I am pleased to have avoided. What an insight into ‘Little Britain’! The matter has been resolved one way or another apparently anyway!

Leaving this local controversy, which I didn’t then know existed, I decided to look round the shops, and purchased some leather-cleaner from a hardware shop to use on the sheath of an old neglected Frosts knife I’d been cleaning up. Independent hardware shops have been declining in numbers for decades in Britain, but Knaresborough seems amply served by them, and in fact I visited several over the course of the next hour or two.

In a local bookshop, I spotted a range of local guides, including a tome called ‘101 Uses For a Yorkshire Pudding’. I kid you not!

Ignorant of the town-crier scandal, I noted that the folk of Knaresborough seemed friendly, as did the many visitors who had come to shop at the market, and I didn’t see the signs of apparent in-breeding that have given me the shivers in some other small Yorkshire towns. I am glad not to have dug any deeper into the murky underbelly of this seemingly pretty town!

I bought some chocolate limes from an old fashioned-looking sweet shop. My grandmother used to give them to me as a boy, and I mainly bought them from a sense of nostalgia. They were actually not that pleasant, and certainly not to my taste nearly 50 years later, so I spent the rest of my time in Knaresborough trying to give them away.

Two junk shops, adjacent to each other, were oddly closed. I wasn’t sure if this was just for the day, or more permanently, but it was a disappointment. I went in a few charity shops, but none of them had any knives for sale. This seems strange, since they sell just about everything else. They must have pocket-knives donated to them along with all the other stuff, but the recent British attitude to knives I think means they are no more likely to be put on display than examples of Victorian pornography might be for instance. It’s a sad state of affairs, that something so quintessentially English as the Sheffield-made pocket-knife is no longer considered seemly to be offered for public sale.

I found a small outdoor clothing shop, which was staffed by a very flirty middle-aged woman who giggled loudly at everything I said, and conjured up innuendo and double-entendre from my every innocent remark. With no encouragement whatsoever, she told me stories about her mischievous schooldays, which I’m sure were no more recent than my own. The range of clothing wasn’t up to much, but I purchased a small button compass that was on display in a glass cabinet. When the assistant seemed incredulous as to why I would purchase such a thing, I told her that it was in case I was shot down over enemy-occupied France, at which point she nearly collapsed in another fit of giggles. She was only barely recovering, when I asked if I could have a small Victorinox screwdriver from the same cabinet, upon which her reaction was such that I thought she was going to start rolling on the floor. After she recovered, and was wanting me to thoroughly examine a rubbish-looking ‘survival kit’ she had got down from a shelf, I decided I should leave before the emergency services were needed. Bizarrely, she was reduced to pouting sulkily, so I gave her a chocolate lime as consolation as I slipped hurriedly out of the shop.

Crossing the road, I found another hardware shop, where both the owner and her assistant separately recounted to me the story of the owner’s past medical problems, and how these had led to the one-time upstairs tea-room being closed. I felt I should purchase something in sympathy, and so bought an attractive ceramic salt spoon from a large range the shop stocked.

Down a small road I spotted a shop called Aladdin’s Cave, which I thought might contain all sorts of treasures. In fact it mainly contained people, nearly a dozen packed in there, gossiping about the town-crier. The consensus seemed to be that he “was a bit above himself”. One old lady recalled how he had spent the entire bus journey from Harrogate talking loudly on his mobile phone. At the time, I wandered to myself if perhaps he had lost his voice in this manner, totally unaware of the full sinister tale of “Bed Race” racism.

Because of all the people in the shop it was hard to see what they actually stocked, but it appeared to be a haberdashery of some sort. I spotted some packets of wooden beads priced very cheaply, along with some equally inexpensive coloured glass ones, and some skull-shaped ones made from dyed turquoise. I figured I could find a use for them, particularly at their inexpensive price, and purchased a packet of each. The proprietor interrupted his conversation about the town-crier to tell me that the skull beads were dyed turquoise, something which was clearly displayed on the packet. I foolishly wondered aloud as to why anyone would dye turquoise, only to be rebuked and told that this was in fact a “special” white turquoise. I later saw the beads on sale in Leeds at more than 20 times the price I paid, so consider I got a bargain.

I fancied a pint, but strangely, Knaresborough’s best pub, Blind Jack’s, which is situated right in the market place, does not open until 4pm on market days. Blind Jack’s is named after Knaresborough’s most famous former resident (well he’s famous in Knaresborough), Blind Jack Metcalf, who while blind from the age of six, was an avid swimmer, horse-rider, cock-fighter, fiddler, road-builder, and all-round local 18th Century character.

As I walked back across the square I was surprised to see the previously mute town-crier had put in another appearance, and with much throat-rubbing, was croaking his way through some locally significant announcements, which meant little to me. I paused to take a few photographs and thought it strange that he was being totally ignored by everyone else. Not knowing about the “bed Race” scandal, I supposed that the sight of a town-crier was such an everyday one in Knaresborough as to not be worth pausing for. Little did I know the dark undercurrents at play!

​
When a bloke dressed like this gets ignored there's clearly something very wrong!​

As it had now begun to rain, and I had found no sign of any sharp and pointy bargains, I decided to head home, but I then noticed that the two previously-closed junk shops had opened their doors. I headed over in the vain hope of finding something of interest within. The first shop was an odd mixture of old junk and new, with nothing of interest throughout. Outside the neighbouring shop, ‘Madame Gigi’, a middle-aged woman dressed in Victorian clothes, busied herself arranging an ancient pram. I very quickly realised that she was very close to being raving mad as she followed me into a room that looked as if a bin-wagon had been emptied into it. Unable to immediately back out, I feigned interest in the garbage-dump, while Madame Gigi cautioned me about all the costly accidental breakages previous visitors to her premises had caused. I escaped as quickly as possible!

So sadly, and as you may have guessed from the title, no knives were to be had in Knaresborough, but it was an interesting day out, even if I didn’t find out about The Great Bed-Race Scandal until later. Further research into that is needed I think!
 
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I've been carrying my ZT 0350 (I know not my traditional) a little more lately somewhat because I feel bad because it was an expensive gift from my father and I didn't use it as much as he expected it and I think he noticed so I've been giving it some good ol' wear but with as heavy as it is I usually don't also carry the peanut with me. Had to cut off a ziptie last night and I remembered why I liked my peanut so much. That little blade it so much easier to use and not have to worry about cutting into the cord the ziptie was around. Had to go get scissors unfortunately. I think I'm gonna have to go my back to carrying my Peanut or maybe just carry both when I decide to carry the ZT.
On the other side of the coin its much harder to lose my ZT than it is the peanut and I lose the peanut quite often. Little bugger falls out of my pockets all the time it seems.
 
"Knaresborough", said knarf. "That sounds like a good place to be, even if they do forget to pronounce the K."

Thanks for the fun read.
 
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