KEN ERICKSON inaugural Blade show give away. And the winner is LKJW!

Nice gesture Ken, while relatively new here I intend staying for long time, so...regular.
Not camping but sailing, a long time ago during rough wind, need to cut rope quickly to let the main sail down fast, used my rope cutter knife (sheepfoot blade), that some times later had sunk in a deep water forever.
Mike
 
Did I ever tell you about the time that my wife and I took our 1 and 2 year old daughters camping? It was in rural Indiana at a state managed camp ground. Mind you it was the week before labor day weekend so the park was EMPTY and preparations were being made for the holiday. All was well until we woke to the sound of chainsaws running on Tuesday morning.... at the crack of dawn! Which would have been fine, but the workers were ALL wearing orange jump suits and being watched by one little chubby guard with a shotgun. Its a little disconcerting to know that your the only family in the campground with 25 convicts, that are holding chainsaws, shovels and axes.
 
Ken,That is a great looking knife!Your knives are inspiration for me to keep trying.Good luck at Blade.Im sure you're going to have great success.Could you perhaps give us a peek of what you're taking?Or if you already have and i missed it,provide a link?Never mind,just found it.Those are super looking folders.Im sure you'll come home sold out or certainly should!O and my story..I grew up in Grapevine,Tx, before there was a DFW airport there.But we had a cool lake and in my teens and before i was very interested in camping.My buds and i used to camp below the Lake Dam and in those days it was pretty wild.I remember they had one of those Corp of Engineers built 3 cable bridges and we used to cross the creek on it with full packs and gear.Of course being dumb teenagers halfway across we just had to get the cables bouncing.This was 50-60 feet up.Its a miricle we all survived.My knives then.A Japan made multi folder with every tool and blade you can imagine.And a Army surplus store machete.I also had a Case large hunter that i still have,but kept it put away for deer season.One thing that sticks in my mind is we would foil wrap potatoes and throw them in the coals befre we went to sleep.In the morning that was breakfast and i still think thats the best baked potato ive ever eaten.Man,those were the good old days.
 
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Good mornin' Ken,

This is wonderful of you and very generous! I must harken back to my earliest recollection of knives in my life. When I was a young boy and my parents would not let me have a real knife, I remember that Cracker Jacks used to give a small toy in their package. I fondly remember opening that CJ box and finding
a small plastic folding knife in the bottom of the box and how thrilled I was. I carried that plastic knife until it finally feel apart. It made this little boy feel like a man. The memory lives strong in my mind even 60 years later!

Jeff
 
I'm not sure if I qualify as a regular here, but I'm trying. I visit the forum daily, and contribute where I can. Thank you for your generous gesture Mr. Erickson.

Most of my camping adventures involve me, my wife and our kids either hunting or fishing. We all love to hunt, and some of the most memorable day's afield are spent with the kiddo's. One of my most memorable was the day my wife harvested her biggest buck. She was hunting with our daughter. The buck had been seen a couple times before by my wife. But, she never could get on him. But, this day was different. We said a prayer prior to leaving for the afternoon hunt, hoping God would show favor upon us. Well, he did. My daughter spotted the buck first. And, he posed broadside so my lovely wife could get a shot on him. But, it wasn't over yet. The buck ran off into the woods. So, dejected, she came to camp. When me and my boy's got there she was saddened that the buck had run off. Well, I knew God would not let us down. So, we loaded up and went back to her stand. She tried to direct me to where the buck stood when she shot, but there was no blood. I got to thinking on where the buck may have stood. And, it occurred to me that the buck may have been larger than she thought, and therefore was standing farther away. And, sure enough, about 30 or 40yrds farther out I found blood. Me and the boy's tracked the buck until we found him piled up about 150yrds into the woods. She had hit him good, but he did run a good way's. It may have been a good thing she didn't try to follow, or find the blood, as it allowed the ole boy to lay up and die for us. God is good!

IMG_2569.jpg
 
Ken,
Thanks for the opportunity on a great looking knife!!!!

Years ago, a few of us went backpacking for the weekend in Yosemite Park. When we got to the lake we planned to camp at, we found pretty fresh bear claw marks on a tree. I took out the little Schrade LB3 lockback I always carried back then, stuck it in the tree as a reference for the width of the marks, and took a picture. But when we got home and showed everybody the picture, I showed everybody my LB7, same knife, but about twice the size. :D
 
Ken, how could anybody refuse the chance to pick up that beauty?...I think that it being an earlier one as well kinda makes it even more so attractive!
I posted a thread up a while ago when I was camping with my partner and our kids, I bought Ed Fowlers book along with me, and a couple of knives, and what makes this trip stand out out for me so much is that for the first time I got the handle on sharpening...now this may sound silly to you folk, but I wasn't bought up with knives, nor my father etc, but I had tried quite a few times to sharpen a few older knives, and it was frustrating times, but this trip...it just all fell into place...it was just one of those times, I had a nice cold Bourbon, looking out to the sea, sat in my chair and I was in my own world.
Heres the scene...
Saturday019-1.jpg


Another time when I was a lad....I think I was about 9...all us kids got to take our bikes with us on this camping trip, we rode our bikes everywhere - my bike was a minter...every time it got wet, I would dry in-between the spokes, polish it...anyway...my brother and I were playing pool at this towns pool hall, and this elderly gentleman carrying a petrol tin came up to me and asked if he could borrow my bike-as his family was sitting in the car which had run out of petrol....yep you guessed it, I remember still standing there a couple of hours later in tears ....worried just what Dad was going to do because I was such a sucker...never has this left my thoughts on how someone could do that to a kid who was so trusting....for many years I wanted to catch up to that chap, and spend some time with him just letting him know in a fairly assertive manner how I felt :D
That camping trip was my worst for me as a kid, I look back in embarrassment as to how gullible I was that day, it was a good lesson on trust.
 
I'd like a chance at this knife.

All of my "real" camping I did when I was in the boy scout organization. We carried everything in a pack and none of the fancy pack tents of today or pop up campers. You took every thing you needed in the pack and you'd better not need anything that wasn't in there. It was great fun and great times. The first time we went, none of us had really been camping and it was brutally cold. The water in my canteen froze solid. But being the young boys we were, there was a lot of mischief going on. We stayed out two nights and hiked back to town on the morning of the 3rd day. I learned more about camping on that first trip than I have since then. It would be great to relive that time again; might just do that. At least now I've got a cell phone for emergency...

Ed J
 
Very generous, thank you!

I grew up fishing...as soon as I could hold a fishing rod, I was jigging and catching bluegill with little chunks of hotdog or corn. My Paupa was an avid trout fisherman. My Grandpa fished mainly for panfish. My Dad liked to do both. I was about 7 when I caught my first trout. I had caught bass, breem, etc, but the patience necessary to catch a trout was not something I possessed.

My family and I went on a camping trip to a small lake in the California mountains. It was a beautiful spot. We set up camp and my Dad and I went fishing. In hindsight, I realize that he didn't catch anything that day because it was more important to him that I catch a fish. Didn't realize that for years.

The afternoon was perfect. After a few hours, I felt the tap and set the hook on a nice 16" rainbow. I reeled her in and I don't know who was more excited...me or my Dad. We were both hopping around hooting and hollering. My Dad smiling a huge smile (something he didn't do often when I was a kid). I was fishing a little spinner. Maybe a rooster tail. "Throw her back out there, Danny! Get another one!" I went to cast and it caught short. About the same time as I heard a yelp from my Dad. He had caught the hook in his upper shoulder, past the barb. Suddenly it was all ruined. I was on the verge of tears. "It's OK son. It's OK. I need you to push the hook through...it's past the barb." I wanted to do it, but I couldn't. I just couldn't.

Then we hear whistling and an English chap with his two kids comes strolling along. He saw the problem. He admired my trout. He pulled out a SAK and cut the hook out. My Dad did not move a muscle. And then he was gone.

That night we cooked my fish and my Dad didn't mention the hook incident to my Mom or Sister. About time to hit the tents, I went to throw a stick in the fire and threw MY SAK by mistake. My Dad fished it out, minus the red plastic handles. I was heartbroken. Two days later, we were at home and my Dad handed me my knife, complete with neat translucent scales made with shoe-goo.

I don't have the knife anymore. I have caught many fish since then, but I will never forget that day and the generosity and love I felt...something I rarely felt at home. It could have been a weekend that I think about and cringe. Instead, I think about it and wonder when the last time I called my Dad was.

Now, I understand. My Dad did not like his job. It pained him. He took it out on the wrong people sometimes. But there were many times, often camping or fishing, that he was about as noble and thoughtful as any man can be. I owe him more than I will ever be able to repay.

Thanks for the chance at a neat knife.
 
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Campbellclanman said:
Ken, how could anybody refuse the chance to pick up that beauty?...I think that it being an earlier one as well kinda makes it even more so attractive!
I posted a thread up a while ago when I was camping with my partner and our kids, I bought Ed Fowlers book along with me, and a couple of knives, and what makes this trip stand out out for me so much is that for the first time I got the handle on sharpening...now this may sound silly to you folk, but I wasn't bought up with knives, nor my father etc, but I had tried quite a few times to sharpen a few older knives, and it was frustrating times, but this trip...it just all fell into place...it was just one of those times, I had a nice cold Bourbon, looking out to the sea, sat in my chair and I was in my own world.
Heres the scene...
Saturday019-1.jpg


Another time when I was a lad....I think I was about 9...all us kids got to take our bikes with us on this camping trip, we rode our bikes everywhere - my bike was a minter...every time it got wet, I would dry in-between the spokes, polish it...anyway...my brother and I were playing pool at this towns pool hall, and this elderly gentleman carrying a petrol tin came up to me and asked if he could borrow my bike-as his family was sitting in the car which had run out of petrol....yep you guessed it, I remember still standing there a couple of hours later in tears ....worried just what Dad was going to do because I was such a sucker...never has this left my thoughts on how someone could do that to a kid who was so trusting....for many years I wanted to catch up to that chap, and spend some time with him just letting him know in a fairly assertive manner how I felt :D
That camping trip was my worst for me as a kid, I look back in embarrassment as to how gullible I was that day, it was a good lesson on trust.
Click to expand...

I have been taken too, brother. That is a sad one. But it is better to be trusting and suffer the occasional defeat than be a cynic. My .02.
 
I've belonged to the Boy Scouts for about 30 years now in a variety of different capacities. I really don't know how many camp outs I've gone on but when going I always took a boy Scout knife with me. This has been a great opportunity to teach young men how to handle a knife in the proper way especially in a camping situation. Here is the latest Scout knife I own. I want to thank you for the opportunity to win a nice little knife. Once again thanks.

Christmas2006010.jpg
 
I grew up in a small town in Alabama. I was an only child and I spent alot of time with my Grandaddy. He had some land on the Coosa river with a boat ramp and a small pier that my uncle made. Grandaddy had a small camper that we would stay in when I would spend the weekend with him. We would build a camp fire and stay up all night catfishing and just talking. He always carried his Uncle Henry stockman in his pocket. When things were slow he would whittle or cut sticks for the marshmellows. Those were the greatest days back then. I guess I got older and so did he.... I went on and joined the Navy and moved away. He passed away not too long after that. when I went home my Dad handed me Grandaddy's knife and told me he wanted me to have it. It wasn't an expensive knife..but in my eyes, it was the greatest knife ever.
Thank you Sir for the opportunity.
 
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Not sure if I count as a regular. I will let Ken be the judge of that. But, I thought I would share this story from my Scouting days. Here in the Memphis area, our Scouting summer camp is at Kia Kima in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas. Most of my teenage years I spent a week or two up at Kia Kima at Scout camp earning merit badges. One year when I was Patrol leader holding Star rank, we heard some screams from the neighboring campsite. My buddy Andrew, who I've known for years and ended up being in my wedding party, grabbed our first aid kit and lantern and ran to the neighboring campsite. We got their just as that troop got to their ax/saw area. Apparently, one of the leaders felt the troop needed some extra logs for the fire and took it upon himself to go break down some of the larger logs they had. He had gotten a bow saw and was sawing them up. Unfortunately, no one had taught him how to use a bow saw properly. He had balanced the log he was sawing on his thigh. You can see where this is going. Luckily, he caught himself before he sawed too much into his leg. Still, he had a nice six inch long cut that was about half an inch deep. He was lucky that one of the leaders of his troop was a doctor. That man stepped in and took over the first aid. Ultimately, they brought in an ambulance to take the guy out. I did learn some valuable lessons that night, though. One, always respect edged tools. Second, just because someone is older, doesn't mean they are wiser.
 
I'm in Ken, thanks for the generous Giveaway.

My Old Man has been dead since 1975, (I was 15 at the time) it was always around this time of year we would go upstate NY to open up the Camp for the season, when I was younger we would go out to a 1 acre lake we had made and he would cut a fresh/new growth willow branch and pull out his pocket knife, usually a camp knife of one brand or another and proceed to sing this song in Hungarian while he miraculously turned a willow branch into a slide whistle.

I can't remember the song but I'll always remember the fun I had playin' with that stupid piece of wood when he was done.

Thanks again Ken.
 
LKJW said:
Very generous, thank you!

I grew up fishing...as soon as I could hold a fishing rod, I was jigging and catching bluegill with little chunks of hotdog or corn. My Paupa was an avid trout fisherman. My Grandpa fished mainly for panfish. My Dad liked to do both. I was about 7 when I caught my first trout. I had caught bass, breem, etc, but the patience necessary to catch a trout was not something I possessed.

My family and I went on a camping trip to a small lake in the California mountains. It was a beautiful spot. We set up camp and my Dad and I went fishing. In hindsight, I realize that he didn't catch anything that day because it was more important to him that I catch a fish. Didn't realize that for years.

The afternoon was perfect. After a few hours, I felt the tap and set the hook on a nice 16" rainbow. I reeled her in and I don't know who was more excited...me or my Dad. We were both hopping around hooting and hollering. My Dad smiling a huge smile (something he didn't do often when I was a kid). I was fishing a little spinner. Maybe a rooster tail. "Throw her back out there, Danny! Get another one!" I went to cast and it caught short. About the same time as I heard a yelp from my Dad. He had caught the hook in his upper shoulder, past the barb. Suddenly it was all ruined. I was on the verge of tears. "It's OK son. It's OK. I need you to push the hook through...it's past the barb." I wanted to do it, but I couldn't. I just couldn't.

Then we hear whistling and an English chap with his two kids comes strolling along. He saw the problem. He admired my trout. He pulled out a SAK and cut the hook out. My Dad did not move a muscle. And then he was gone.

That night we cooked my fish and my Dad didn't mention the hook incident to my Mom or Sister. About time to hit the tents, I went to throw a stick in the fire and threw MY SAK by mistake. My Dad fished it out, minus the red plastic handles. I was heartbroken. Two days later, we were at home and my Dad handed me my knife, complete with neat translucent scales made with shoe-goo.

I don't have the knife anymore. I have caught many fish since then, but I will never forget that day and the generosity and love I felt...something I rarely felt at home. It could have been a weekend that I think about and cringe. Instead, I think about it and wonder when the last time I called my Dad was.

Now, I understand. My Dad did not like his job. It pained him. He took it out on the wrong people sometimes. But there were many times, often camping or fishing, that he was about as noble and thoughtful as any man can be. I owe him more than I will ever be able to repay.

Thanks for the chance at a neat knife.
Click to expand...



I wanted to say thanks for everyone that took the time to read and post here. All enjoyable, poignant and heartfelt anecdotes.

After much thought, the winner is Dan(LKJW). If you could pm me with your shipping address I will get the knife out Friday.

Ken

Ps, I will be closing this thread, but again wanted to say thanks for playing along!
 
I've enjoyed reading the stories here! Very generous of you, Ken! :thumbup: And congrats to you, Dan! ;)
 
Congratulations Dan!

Ken, I hope you have a wonderful Blade show.
 
Congrats Dan, I hope you enjoy that beauty.
 
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