- Joined
- May 9, 2002
- Messages
- 12,260
Hello fellas. I don't post around here much, but I have recently rekindled a romance with my Fiddleback Woodsman. As Andy knows, I tend to blab on and on, but when a guy creates such a fine functional piece of art I think a few words of reminding and thanking him are in order from time to time. I'll do my best to be brief
As the fates have allowed, time has passed since the birth of my daughter. Two years next month, actually. While many of you are fantastic, devoted, and loving dads, I'm sure you can remember the first couple of years where your little one simply wasn't big enough to enjoy some of the more physical and strenuous things that you did in the times before daddydom. One of my absolute favorite activities was getting outdoors and enjoying a little camping. Nothing hardcore or Mountain Manish, mind you. I'm far too big of a wuss for that But getting out and communing with nature for a night or two always does my soul good. The fresh air, the smoke of a hand-built fire as well the coal-cooked food in a dutch over that goes along with it, and the leisurely hikes through the woods always did more to mend my work-fractured little psyche in 2 days than 2 weeks at an overcrowded beach ever did. The stillness of the woods requires my mind to be still, to relax, to shut the hell up and unwind.
I digress. My daughter is now a full blown and curious toddler capable of long days of running around and expending more energy than I can ever hope to produce again in the rest of my lifetime. We have decided that it is time to put our toe back into the camping waters. The Mrs is not into roughing it by any stretch, so we have elected to meet up with some friends and their 3 year old daughter and split a cabin for a few nights in a semi-secluded spot nestled in the Michigan woods. We leave in 3 weeks. I am already packed
The first thing I did (like all of you) is select the tools I would "need"...now, we all know that NEED is a very short word often thrown around the forums that actually translates into "A bunch of toys I fantasize about needing as the zombie-bears attack and I alone must MacGyver a survival plan to save my family and helpless friends". In short, I have a bag full of multi-tools, a Zippo, a flint and steel, some water purifier, a med kit extensive enough to treat wounds from military small arms fire, about 500 feet of paracord, zip ties, pry bars, mini-pry bars, and just about everything under the sun that one could need to survive 2 nights at a fully furnished cabin located 20 minutes off a main drag and 25 minutes from a Super Wal Mart.
Of course, I'm also a Khukuri guy. That was actually a pretty easy tool to pick out, as I have a nice M-43 that has become my trail/camp firewood chopper over the last 6 or 7 years. I could fret and hem and haw over what to take. Lord knows that I have enough of them to choose from. However, space in the trunk of the Fusion is at a premium. My wife insists on packing not only her OWN clothes, but that our daughter also needs both clothes and an umbrella stroller...and here I thought we were camping So, one big chopper and I'm set.
Finally, a belt knife. Do I go big and bring one of my ridiculously large HI bowies? Do I go light and bring my Kismet Practical Hunter (the original HI one and not nearly as gorgeous version that Andy designed...still drooling over those)? Do I go with a soulless stainless jobby since this is most likely just going to be used to whittle a marshmallow roasting stick for my daughter?...Of course not. This was an easy choice even if I love my HI bowies, my KPH, and...well, I don't love my soulless mass produced knives, but they aren't bad either. If I going to the woods, I bring my Woodsman. A second thought never enters my mind. Outdoors = Fiddleback Woodsman hanging on my right side (I like carrying it strong side). When I get up in the morning, the Woodsman in there when I slide on my jeans. The knife I use to open the packages of breakfast bacon...the Woodsman. The knife I use to prep the fire...You guessed it. To be utterly and completely blunt and honest, if you MADE me pick one blade that would be my only tool on a desert island, made me pick one knife that I would be buried with, and made me pick one knife as the one I am most proud to own...it would earnestly be my Fiddleback Woodsman.
I have handled many, many knives from many makers, from many lands, made out of many materials. Andy Roy crafted my Excalibur some three years ago, and it has not be surpassed by anything since. Beautifully crafted with those made-just-for-you hand hugging grips made out of walnut and osage, this knife is simply the most comfortable and fatigue-free blade I have ever handled. Now, she's no beauty queen...I mean, she started out that way. However, over the years she's been used to cut all manner of acid foods, quartered ribs, and carefully batonned through kindling. I know Andy wants his knives used, and used she has been. I still keep her hair popping sharp, but the mars and nicks and stains of a well-lived life are there. Every time I show my Woodsman to a friend, I tell them "This one is my favorite. It's custom. Here, hold it." They simply can't appreciate it until that smooth handle melts into their mitt with the kind of mass that almost makes the knife feel alive in your hands. It practically breathes.
So, I finally feel ready for my first outdoor outing in years. Favorite khuk already lashed to my pack, old Ithaca 37 shotgun dusted off and ready to go in the trunk just in case (hey, the car is never too full to have to leave my favorite gun at home...zombie bears, remember?), and my Woodsman stropped to a scary sharp edge, oiled, and ready to get really dirty for the first time in a very long time. Time to leave the kitchen and head back to the wilds where we belong.
Once again, thanks so much for crafting such a great user, Andy. I'd recommend you to anyone, and I often do:thumbup:
Here's a pic of the Woodsman before I got her all dirtied up again with meat juice from a BBQ cook-off the next day
As the fates have allowed, time has passed since the birth of my daughter. Two years next month, actually. While many of you are fantastic, devoted, and loving dads, I'm sure you can remember the first couple of years where your little one simply wasn't big enough to enjoy some of the more physical and strenuous things that you did in the times before daddydom. One of my absolute favorite activities was getting outdoors and enjoying a little camping. Nothing hardcore or Mountain Manish, mind you. I'm far too big of a wuss for that
But getting out and communing with nature for a night or two always does my soul good. The fresh air, the smoke of a hand-built fire as well the coal-cooked food in a dutch over that goes along with it, and the leisurely hikes through the woods always did more to mend my work-fractured little psyche in 2 days than 2 weeks at an overcrowded beach ever did. The stillness of the woods requires my mind to be still, to relax, to shut the hell up and unwind.I digress. My daughter is now a full blown and curious toddler capable of long days of running around and expending more energy than I can ever hope to produce again in the rest of my lifetime. We have decided that it is time to put our toe back into the camping waters. The Mrs is not into roughing it by any stretch, so we have elected to meet up with some friends and their 3 year old daughter and split a cabin for a few nights in a semi-secluded spot nestled in the Michigan woods. We leave in 3 weeks. I am already packed
The first thing I did (like all of you) is select the tools I would "need"...now, we all know that NEED is a very short word often thrown around the forums that actually translates into "A bunch of toys I fantasize about needing as the zombie-bears attack and I alone must MacGyver a survival plan to save my family and helpless friends". In short, I have a bag full of multi-tools, a Zippo, a flint and steel, some water purifier, a med kit extensive enough to treat wounds from military small arms fire, about 500 feet of paracord, zip ties, pry bars, mini-pry bars, and just about everything under the sun that one could need to survive 2 nights at a fully furnished cabin located 20 minutes off a main drag and 25 minutes from a Super Wal Mart.
Of course, I'm also a Khukuri guy. That was actually a pretty easy tool to pick out, as I have a nice M-43 that has become my trail/camp firewood chopper over the last 6 or 7 years. I could fret and hem and haw over what to take. Lord knows that I have enough of them to choose from. However, space in the trunk of the Fusion is at a premium. My wife insists on packing not only her OWN clothes, but that our daughter also needs both clothes and an umbrella stroller...and here I thought we were camping
So, one big chopper and I'm set.Finally, a belt knife. Do I go big and bring one of my ridiculously large HI bowies? Do I go light and bring my Kismet Practical Hunter (the original HI one and not nearly as gorgeous version that Andy designed...still drooling over those)? Do I go with a soulless stainless jobby since this is most likely just going to be used to whittle a marshmallow roasting stick for my daughter?...Of course not. This was an easy choice even if I love my HI bowies, my KPH, and...well, I don't love my soulless mass produced knives, but they aren't bad either. If I going to the woods, I bring my Woodsman. A second thought never enters my mind. Outdoors = Fiddleback Woodsman hanging on my right side (I like carrying it strong side). When I get up in the morning, the Woodsman in there when I slide on my jeans. The knife I use to open the packages of breakfast bacon...the Woodsman. The knife I use to prep the fire...You guessed it. To be utterly and completely blunt and honest, if you MADE me pick one blade that would be my only tool on a desert island, made me pick one knife that I would be buried with, and made me pick one knife as the one I am most proud to own...it would earnestly be my Fiddleback Woodsman.
I have handled many, many knives from many makers, from many lands, made out of many materials. Andy Roy crafted my Excalibur some three years ago, and it has not be surpassed by anything since. Beautifully crafted with those made-just-for-you hand hugging grips made out of walnut and osage, this knife is simply the most comfortable and fatigue-free blade I have ever handled. Now, she's no beauty queen...I mean, she started out that way. However, over the years she's been used to cut all manner of acid foods, quartered ribs, and carefully batonned through kindling. I know Andy wants his knives used, and used she has been. I still keep her hair popping sharp, but the mars and nicks and stains of a well-lived life are there. Every time I show my Woodsman to a friend, I tell them "This one is my favorite. It's custom. Here, hold it." They simply can't appreciate it until that smooth handle melts into their mitt with the kind of mass that almost makes the knife feel alive in your hands. It practically breathes.
So, I finally feel ready for my first outdoor outing in years. Favorite khuk already lashed to my pack, old Ithaca 37 shotgun dusted off and ready to go in the trunk just in case (hey, the car is never too full to have to leave my favorite gun at home...zombie bears, remember?), and my Woodsman stropped to a scary sharp edge, oiled, and ready to get really dirty for the first time in a very long time. Time to leave the kitchen and head back to the wilds where we belong.
Once again, thanks so much for crafting such a great user, Andy. I'd recommend you to anyone, and I often do:thumbup:
Here's a pic of the Woodsman before I got her all dirtied up again with meat juice from a BBQ cook-off the next day
