Fodderwing
Gold Member
- Joined
- Jan 31, 2017
- Messages
- 9,182
“Baby I just went through that bucket and there’s nothing there.” I’m telling my wife. We are at a yard sale. She smiles and stoops to look through the bucket. Later as we are driving away she shows me a super cool old scout knife she bought for two dollars. “Where did you…?” Her grin stops me in mid sentence. I change the subject.
A couple of months ago we happened on a “upscale” flea market in the yuppie section of downtown. You know the place; complete with vegan cafe, coffee freshly ground and straight from the goat’s … Anyway, we always split up. She goes one way and I the other. This is to cut down on the…”oh honey would you look at this …”. Now this place has some awesome stuff. If I had a couple thousand just laying around I’d love to get that rocking chair… It is a retail museum for the well-healed. On auto-pilot now. “Nothin to see here folks… lets keep it moving.” We meet up about mid way. “Baby there is absolutely nothing here anyone in there right mind would consider a bargain.” I say. She smiles.
We walk out with a vintage made in USA Gerstner and Sons eleven drawer wooden tool chest in excellent condition. Price - $125.00 (it’s marked as “homemade” and today all items in booth are 50% off).
My wife is always smiling.
Today we loaded the Jeep on a trailer and headed north to Snowball. Even by Arkansas standards Snowball is remote. By jeep from there we drove west. After a terrible dirt rub -board few miles in the Ozark “mountains” a old wagon road leads off to the north. In a little while this trail arrives on the east bank of Richland Creek. It’s been hot and dry. At two feet deep the creek is easily forded. From here on it narrows and the trees form a tunnel of green mile after mile. We creep along at 10 mph. Now the path hugs sheer rock rising 250 ft straight up and in one place (known as the “narrows”) this bluff narrows to three feet on top. At its base flows the Buffalo National River on one side and the path we are now traveling on the other. Eventually the bluffs give way and you arrive at Woolum Ford on the Buffalo. Pulling up out of the river on the far bank we hang a right and run along a smooth sandy track about a half mile dropping over a ledge and down to the rivers edge again.
Never have I known anyone to love nature more than my wife. She and Willow (see avatar) disembark. After skipping rocks awhile and investigating the area I sit down and ponder the river rocks at my feet. Sculpted at a glacial pace the artist never satisfied with his work.
I hear the crunching of footsteps and feel her cooling shadow on me as she stops. When I look up at her she has a smile on her beautiful face. The smile turns into a broad grin. “What is it?” She is pointing down at the ground right beside me. Eighteen inches from me lies a pocket knife. It’s a very nice SOG Flashback Mini.
A couple of months ago we happened on a “upscale” flea market in the yuppie section of downtown. You know the place; complete with vegan cafe, coffee freshly ground and straight from the goat’s … Anyway, we always split up. She goes one way and I the other. This is to cut down on the…”oh honey would you look at this …”. Now this place has some awesome stuff. If I had a couple thousand just laying around I’d love to get that rocking chair… It is a retail museum for the well-healed. On auto-pilot now. “Nothin to see here folks… lets keep it moving.” We meet up about mid way. “Baby there is absolutely nothing here anyone in there right mind would consider a bargain.” I say. She smiles.
We walk out with a vintage made in USA Gerstner and Sons eleven drawer wooden tool chest in excellent condition. Price - $125.00 (it’s marked as “homemade” and today all items in booth are 50% off).
My wife is always smiling.
Today we loaded the Jeep on a trailer and headed north to Snowball. Even by Arkansas standards Snowball is remote. By jeep from there we drove west. After a terrible dirt rub -board few miles in the Ozark “mountains” a old wagon road leads off to the north. In a little while this trail arrives on the east bank of Richland Creek. It’s been hot and dry. At two feet deep the creek is easily forded. From here on it narrows and the trees form a tunnel of green mile after mile. We creep along at 10 mph. Now the path hugs sheer rock rising 250 ft straight up and in one place (known as the “narrows”) this bluff narrows to three feet on top. At its base flows the Buffalo National River on one side and the path we are now traveling on the other. Eventually the bluffs give way and you arrive at Woolum Ford on the Buffalo. Pulling up out of the river on the far bank we hang a right and run along a smooth sandy track about a half mile dropping over a ledge and down to the rivers edge again.
Never have I known anyone to love nature more than my wife. She and Willow (see avatar) disembark. After skipping rocks awhile and investigating the area I sit down and ponder the river rocks at my feet. Sculpted at a glacial pace the artist never satisfied with his work.
I hear the crunching of footsteps and feel her cooling shadow on me as she stops. When I look up at her she has a smile on her beautiful face. The smile turns into a broad grin. “What is it?” She is pointing down at the ground right beside me. Eighteen inches from me lies a pocket knife. It’s a very nice SOG Flashback Mini.
All of this I believe is why the seller thought it was homemade.
You can get replacement hardware (and felt) from Gerstner, it may or may not match the original hardware 100% but I'd bet it would be very close.
Rotten 
