This is the tale of a silly man and his knife. I own several pocket knives now, mostly stainless. Lately, the "Wooden Wednesday" and the "GEC #15" threads have really been grabbing my attention. The Huckleberry Boy's knife (or Otter Messer 161) seems like the perfect pocket knife to me, but I generally don't spend more than $30 for a knife.
Enter the Brown Mule sodbuster, a knife known for being rough around the edges, but with loyal supporters. It has a wooden handle, carbon steel blade, and the price was right. When a dealer posted a photo with "Germany" on the blade, I jumped at it. Of course, it said "product may differ slightly from photo," but I was sure they meant the wood grain.
When the knife showed up, it was of the Italian persuasion, which lived up to the reputation of being roughly finished. I was still shocked, despite my foreknowledge. Most egregious was the walk and talk. This knife was more of a friction folder than a slipjoint. The pivot was clogged with grit and appeared hopeless. Jagged burrs of brass protruded from the handle and gaps were everywhere. Pointy corners and sharp edges defined the brass liners. It was unpleasant to hold this knife.
However, the Brown Mule had enough good traits to prevent my returning it. The blade, despite a blunt tip, was of good quality. The pivot was tight and the blade was centered well. Overall, the knife had a solid feel to it, so I started working. First was to oil the pivot and work out all the grit, which revealed an acceptable action. I proceeded to round off the sharp corner on the handle, which would have worn a hole in my pocket in record time. Then, it was filing the blade down for a sharper point, which I believe to be more useful.
At this point, things were going well, but then I dropped the knife on concrete, and it landed right on the pivot. The previously tight blade was now loose. From fellow forum members, I'd read about squeezing the pivot, then peening the pin. This was my first crack at it, and it worked like a charm! After sanding of burrs and file marks, my knife was ready to carry. By this point, I'd invested enough to start liking "my" knife. Most of the rough spots were gone, and my revulsion was replaced by adoration.
I put the knife in my pocket before heading to work. At lunchtime, I used the tip of the blade to score an orange rind. Instead of washing the knife off, I left the oils and juice on to see if a patina would develop. You see, the seller's false advertising put doubt in my mind. Was this really a carbon blade? When I got home 6 hours later, I washed the blade off, and... no patina! The blade was as clean and shiny as ever. Now I could have asked other forum members about this knife's steel, but that would have been embarrassing. What kind of knife enthusiast can't tell carbon from stainless?
The thought gnawed away at me until midnight, by which time I was certain it was stainless. There was only one way to know for sure, so I wrapped the blade with a paper towel soaked in vinegar for 30 minutes. When it came time to unwrap, I pictured the blade would glare at me with it's original glimmer, and then I'd sell it at a garage sale for a couple of bucks. But, I was wrong again, and the blade now wore a gray vinegar patina. I was sad I'd done this so drastically, because I wanted the blade to patina with usage and time.
This morning, I took some fine sandpaper to the blade to remove the forced patina. What's left is an even light coat of gray, which looks good to me. The "Brown Mule" etching is very faint, but I wasn't really fond of it, anyway. I have learned a lot working on this knife, which has earned my respect. Superficial flaws aside, it really is a strong, functional knife. There is something to the warmth of the wood handle; it feels alive compared to synthetic materials. I think I will leave it alone, now, and just enjoy carrying it.
If you've read this far, I suppose you deserve to see some pictures:
Enter the Brown Mule sodbuster, a knife known for being rough around the edges, but with loyal supporters. It has a wooden handle, carbon steel blade, and the price was right. When a dealer posted a photo with "Germany" on the blade, I jumped at it. Of course, it said "product may differ slightly from photo," but I was sure they meant the wood grain.
When the knife showed up, it was of the Italian persuasion, which lived up to the reputation of being roughly finished. I was still shocked, despite my foreknowledge. Most egregious was the walk and talk. This knife was more of a friction folder than a slipjoint. The pivot was clogged with grit and appeared hopeless. Jagged burrs of brass protruded from the handle and gaps were everywhere. Pointy corners and sharp edges defined the brass liners. It was unpleasant to hold this knife.
However, the Brown Mule had enough good traits to prevent my returning it. The blade, despite a blunt tip, was of good quality. The pivot was tight and the blade was centered well. Overall, the knife had a solid feel to it, so I started working. First was to oil the pivot and work out all the grit, which revealed an acceptable action. I proceeded to round off the sharp corner on the handle, which would have worn a hole in my pocket in record time. Then, it was filing the blade down for a sharper point, which I believe to be more useful.
At this point, things were going well, but then I dropped the knife on concrete, and it landed right on the pivot. The previously tight blade was now loose. From fellow forum members, I'd read about squeezing the pivot, then peening the pin. This was my first crack at it, and it worked like a charm! After sanding of burrs and file marks, my knife was ready to carry. By this point, I'd invested enough to start liking "my" knife. Most of the rough spots were gone, and my revulsion was replaced by adoration.
I put the knife in my pocket before heading to work. At lunchtime, I used the tip of the blade to score an orange rind. Instead of washing the knife off, I left the oils and juice on to see if a patina would develop. You see, the seller's false advertising put doubt in my mind. Was this really a carbon blade? When I got home 6 hours later, I washed the blade off, and... no patina! The blade was as clean and shiny as ever. Now I could have asked other forum members about this knife's steel, but that would have been embarrassing. What kind of knife enthusiast can't tell carbon from stainless?
The thought gnawed away at me until midnight, by which time I was certain it was stainless. There was only one way to know for sure, so I wrapped the blade with a paper towel soaked in vinegar for 30 minutes. When it came time to unwrap, I pictured the blade would glare at me with it's original glimmer, and then I'd sell it at a garage sale for a couple of bucks. But, I was wrong again, and the blade now wore a gray vinegar patina. I was sad I'd done this so drastically, because I wanted the blade to patina with usage and time.
This morning, I took some fine sandpaper to the blade to remove the forced patina. What's left is an even light coat of gray, which looks good to me. The "Brown Mule" etching is very faint, but I wasn't really fond of it, anyway. I have learned a lot working on this knife, which has earned my respect. Superficial flaws aside, it really is a strong, functional knife. There is something to the warmth of the wood handle; it feels alive compared to synthetic materials. I think I will leave it alone, now, and just enjoy carrying it.
If you've read this far, I suppose you deserve to see some pictures:
