Why I Love My £30 Ebony Lambsfoot Working Knife
It’s said that one contributing factor which sustains lasting marriages and indeed any kind of long term relationship, is having lots of shared, happy memories to look back on.
Clearly, this wisdom can apply in a way to favourite knives as well.
Looking at some of the old ‘Lamb-punches’ from Rachel’s
‘Home for Wayward and Worn Out Lambsfoots’, is an instructive experience.
I often wonder at the memories that must be attached to those knives, and what it actually was, that finally led to them being retired from service. Comparing those old Lambsfoot knives to some of the ‘toothpick knives’ in my own collection, clearly they were still used for quite some time after the blade tips were sharpened well clear of the blade channel when closed.
I’d venture a guess that they were only regretfully laid aside, when they eventually got to the stage where the blade point was so proud when closed, that it continually bit the owner when in the pocket, or sliced open the fabric of their trousers. For some of them, the end of the road may have been when the nail nick was almost sharpened into.
Those worn old knives, with their untold stories, speak to another time of careful thriftiness - but surely even the most hard headed user in those days must at least have had a twinge of sentimentality for a faithful and reliable tool which they had carried and used for so long.
All of us, no doubt have knives in our collections or
accumulations, quite probably far less worn but which have a similar sentiment attached to them - even though they may not be the most unique, or best crafted, or most expensive examples, or made of the rarest or finest materials.
For me, among a handful of contenders I have, the first among them is my ol’ ebony user A. Wright Lambsfoot knife.
This is an
early review of that knife, shortly after I purchased it in Sheffield in early 2017.
And some
more thoughts on it, and the Lambsfoot pattern in general after nearly a years use.
Two and a half years down the track, I thought I might revisit the knife with a few notes and remarks.
Regarding durability, my feeling is that the ebony cover scales will quite possibly long outlast all the metal components of the knife. I have no concerns about handling the knife with wet hands, or the effect of seasonal weather changes, nor do I worry when the knife suffers the inevitable drops and scrapes a working knife will be subjected to.
The worst that seems to happen over time, is the hard ebony surface finish might get a little hazy, but it is immediately revived with a bit of hand buffing with fine sandpaper, and some leather with diamond stropping paste on it.
I did smooth over the handle and round off all the corners with fine sandpaper shortly after I got the knife. The handle is actually quite contoured, which I like.
The cutler who made this knife at A. Wright and Sons appears to be a different one to the maker of the Guardians knives. The Guardians knives are better in their construction and fit and finish of course (considering their higher cost, and Jack’s close specifications and guidance), but this one has its own slightly different handle and blade styling.
If anything, the ‘nickel silver’ brass bolsters are more susceptible to wear and tear than the wood scales.
But they polish up nicely too, with the same ‘spa’ treatment.
Every six months or so, I gently repeen the pivot with a light 4 oz ball peen hammer, if needed.
With normal light use, this probably would not be necessary, but I often use the knife in a tight hammer grip to cut through branches when pruning, or clearing fields of fire from a hunting hide.
The blade is ground fairly thin, and I have further thinned it out behind the edge. Initially I just set the edge at 15dps with the Sharpmaker, but over time I have removed more material by placing the blade on a handheld pocket stone, adjusting the angle until I can feel the stone is resting on the shoulder of the edge bevel, but not touching the edge apex, and progressively grinding it thinner on each side.
This ends up giving the ability to easily restore a razor keen edge in literally less than a minute, with a few swipes on the Sharpmaker rods, or a honing ceramic at 15dps, then a couple of passes on an ultrafine rod at 20dps, and a light strop on 1 micron diamond and 0.25 micron CBN loaded balsa and smoothside leather.
The rods at this setting are very close to the actual edge apex, and only need to remove a tiny amount of material to restore a clean, crisp edge.
It also makes it extremely simple to hit the apex with different abrasive grits and types, for experimental purposes.
I’d also like to say a few words about steels and Rockwell C hardness here.
These knives are in C70 steel (an AISI 1075 analogue) run at around 55 HRc (54-56 range).
These specs would perhaps be sniffed at by modern knife aficionados.
It’s worth remembering that steel production, technology and heat treatment was as much of a military arms race between Britain, France and Germany in the 17th-19th centuries as nuclear arms were between the USA and USSR in the 20th century.
The carbon level in C70 steel sits at just under what is called the eutectoid point, which is where the carbon completely saturates into solution at high temperature, and produces a very fine grain structure, when quenched and tempered correctly.
(By comparison, the 1095 in the Waynorth Lambsfoots will produce cementite with the excess carbon above ~0.78%, but the subsequent Peters cryo quench, which was not available in the ‘Golden Age’ circa 1890-1930, ensures a complete martensitic transformation.)
In short, the steel selection and hardness is actually the product of a highly evolved understanding of steel, to produce a very fine microstructure, which is tough and easily resharpenable. It is not the most wear resistant steel of course, but it will take a very thin edge, and if you can sharpen with some basic competency, it is a trivial matter to restore razor sharpness in a minute or two.
I have never experienced chipping in any of my A. Wright Lambsfoot knives.
One of the ‘secrets’ of Sheffield blade performance is highly evolved geometry. Blades I have measured, even worn ones are generally, at most 0.015” behind the edge or even thinner.
One of the concerns I had when initially starting to use the Lambsfoot pattern, was whether the tip would round off with extended use. Rehoning the knife frequently along the whole edge seems to minimise that effect.
Dylan
@Pàdruig kindly made me a custom pocket slip for my trusty ebony knife. His slips are by far my favourite design, out of the many slips I have used, and commissioned from leatherworkers. They sit upright in the pocket, with their flat base, have a slim profile, and are vented at the bottom, so carbon steel knives do not accumulate moisture. Like all finely crafted leather products, they attain a lovely patina with age and use.
Together, this knife and slip pairing, and my other Lambsfoot knives have taken me to a similar place regarding traditional pocket knives, to the one I came to some time ago with my Japanese kitchen knives and hunting and game processing knives.
That is, I went through an initial period of high intensity research and knowledge saturation from as many sources as possible, as well as acquiring and using a lot of different knives and steel types, and applying various sharpening methods.
Following that period, I settled on the best tools for my purposes in the kitchen and in the field, and rarely look at kitchen or hunting knives anymore, as they will not improve on what I already have and use.
I seem to have reached a similar point, where now I purchase new pocketknives only in exceptional circumstances, as I know what works well for me, and the patterns I already have are actually ingrained in my ‘muscle memory’.
When I have the thought to use my Lambsfoot knife to cut something, I barely have to look at it before it is out of my pocket. The swayed handle ensures that it is oriented correctly in my hand by touch alone. I pinch out the blade with my right thumb and forefinger, listening for that satisfying auditory CLACK!, and apply the blade to the task at hand, with barely a conscious thought to the whole process, as if the blade is just an extension of my forefinger.
Then the blade is wiped clean and palmed shut or brushed closed against my leg, and pocketed again.
When considering a more involved cutting task, it’s also a pleasant feeling to weigh the open or closed knife in the hand like worry beads, when assessing how to approach the job.
I’ve spent many hours gardening, harvesting and peeling fruit, vegetables and fungi with this knife, whittling walking sticks, doing basic food prep and spreading condiments, opening packages, shaving tinder for campfires and a myriad of other cutting and slicing chores.
I love all my Lambsfoot knives, and have similarly used and enjoyed most of them, but if ever I leave a well worn punch or toothpick of a blade behind, laden with memories - of all my knives it will most likely be this one.
We're experiencing record temperatures here at the moment, so I'm munching a few of the Tabasco jelly beans Vince sent me to cool down 
