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- Dec 3, 2000
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Everything Old is New Again?
I did most of my growing up in the deep South. Georgia, to be more specific. My Grandpappy lived in Camden South Carolina. He taught me many things, but relevant to this discussion, he taught me about knives. of all the kinfolk he knew, I was the only one he was ever able to teach to "Properly" sharpen a knife. I remember one of my favorite things about visiting him was looking through an old tackle box of knives and listening to him tell me stories about each one.
When he retired from DuPont, my Mother gave him a Case Rope knife with about a 2.5" carbon steel blade and a big block of Oak to whittle away his time.
That was the knife I had in my hand when I carved my first...thing. I came excitedly running around the corner with that open knife in my hand to show and tell...my thing...whatever that thing was. I indeed found my Mother and Grandfather who delivered the heaviest butt chewing I'd ever known in my young life. the chewing out was utterly reasonable since that's the first time I arguably held such a dangerous intrument, and I had terribly abused the privilege.
He carried that knife with it's sheepsfoot blade most every day of his life. I never saw it without a shaving sharp edge on it.
When he wasn't carrying that he carried a Buck Stockman. Of course like many of my generation, I remember him stating "It's a mighty fine knife, but the steel is too hard to sharpen!"
It too was always sharp, but the Sheepsfoot blade was especially keen, and reserved for rare occasions that required that kind of sharpness.
Yesterday, I remembered all of this as I pocketed my Cru-carta Spyderco Paramilitary in my right pocket. In my left pocket I carried my Arcform Alt Cut Minimal fixed blade. It has a 2.25 "Wharncliff"" blade that looks an awful lot like a sheepsfoot blade to me. A couple days previously, I had sharpened and stropped it until it was quite literally hair splitting sharp.
As I paused to ponder my Cru-Wear Spyderco and my featherweight sheepsfoot knife in my pockets I considered that the wisdom my Grandfather carried in the 1980's was as relevant and present to this day as it was back then. And in the 80's it was still as relevant as...what? The sixties? The thirties? The dawn of civilization?
I find myself humbled to think of the tools of those before us. The seemingly timeless wisdom of the tools they chose, and used with skill. Clearly, I love the technologies that I'm spoiled with. But I try not to forget the foundation of this civilization I so enjoy was built with carbon steel, wood, guts and know-how. Of course in this lightning fast age of technology, one is often left to ponder the question "What can be achieved now?"
I did most of my growing up in the deep South. Georgia, to be more specific. My Grandpappy lived in Camden South Carolina. He taught me many things, but relevant to this discussion, he taught me about knives. of all the kinfolk he knew, I was the only one he was ever able to teach to "Properly" sharpen a knife. I remember one of my favorite things about visiting him was looking through an old tackle box of knives and listening to him tell me stories about each one.
When he retired from DuPont, my Mother gave him a Case Rope knife with about a 2.5" carbon steel blade and a big block of Oak to whittle away his time.
That was the knife I had in my hand when I carved my first...thing. I came excitedly running around the corner with that open knife in my hand to show and tell...my thing...whatever that thing was. I indeed found my Mother and Grandfather who delivered the heaviest butt chewing I'd ever known in my young life. the chewing out was utterly reasonable since that's the first time I arguably held such a dangerous intrument, and I had terribly abused the privilege.
He carried that knife with it's sheepsfoot blade most every day of his life. I never saw it without a shaving sharp edge on it.
When he wasn't carrying that he carried a Buck Stockman. Of course like many of my generation, I remember him stating "It's a mighty fine knife, but the steel is too hard to sharpen!"
It too was always sharp, but the Sheepsfoot blade was especially keen, and reserved for rare occasions that required that kind of sharpness.
Yesterday, I remembered all of this as I pocketed my Cru-carta Spyderco Paramilitary in my right pocket. In my left pocket I carried my Arcform Alt Cut Minimal fixed blade. It has a 2.25 "Wharncliff"" blade that looks an awful lot like a sheepsfoot blade to me. A couple days previously, I had sharpened and stropped it until it was quite literally hair splitting sharp.
As I paused to ponder my Cru-Wear Spyderco and my featherweight sheepsfoot knife in my pockets I considered that the wisdom my Grandfather carried in the 1980's was as relevant and present to this day as it was back then. And in the 80's it was still as relevant as...what? The sixties? The thirties? The dawn of civilization?
I find myself humbled to think of the tools of those before us. The seemingly timeless wisdom of the tools they chose, and used with skill. Clearly, I love the technologies that I'm spoiled with. But I try not to forget the foundation of this civilization I so enjoy was built with carbon steel, wood, guts and know-how. Of course in this lightning fast age of technology, one is often left to ponder the question "What can be achieved now?"
