I started carrying a pocket knife daily about 5 years ago when my brother-in-law gave me a little (under 3") mirrored Seki Cut.
I loved that knife and I learned how to sharpen on it but after about a year it felt a little small. I didn't like the edge profile either. I then took the jump and purchased a Benchmade Crooked River in Dymondwood from Sportsman's Warehouse.
I loved that thing too but after another year or so it just felt it was a bit too big for EDC chores like opening boxes and cutting rope - too much torque on the wrist for small tasks. It just felt a bit imprecise when trying to use the tip.
I then discovered (and this was back in 2018 when they actually had a storefront) that here in Utah we had a wonderful store called Blade HQ that had a storefront just south of Salt Lake. I went there and after trying out what seemed to me an ocean of choices I settled on the Reate K1 flipper:
Welcome to the passion. Welcome to the world of flipper knives and all the sensory feedback of opening and closing them. I have zero interest now in folders or axis locks or autos or semi-assists. There's something really elegant and useful about being able to open and close a knife with one hand gently. I love flippers because they aren't as agressive as an auto or a semi-assist so you can be more subtle in public. People are intimidated by full sized knives as well as blade action, so combine the two and you need to judge the room before opening unless you just don't give s#!t or are making a statement. Anyways, I love flippers.
But it wasn't happily ever after with my Reate. This spring the lock back on the knife became buggered and I've been dealing with customer support ever since June (It's September). They've had the knife for 3 months now and I miss it. I've had to try and carry the Crooked River again or another axis lock that was my brother-in-law's (I haven't bothered to remember it's name). So the K1's absence is a daily low level annoyance and it's taught me that there is a lot of value in committing to a manufacturer that lives on the same continent as you and speaks the same language from birth. There's also value I suspect in being able to google a manufacturer and find out how people have liked their product and their customer service. Reate has communicated that they may not be able to fix the knife (lack of parts) and then informed me that the tip broke off at some point after I shipped. They have thanked me for my patience as they try to resolve my issues. 3 months and counting.
Anyways, despite all that BS where incompetence and business margins get in the way of an inspired product I don't regret buying the Reate. With that purchase I had just introduced myself to something special. It's something that in the daily grind of life rarely happens: an enjoyment of the existence of a thing. Sure we love our kids, our wife, our friends and we love our home if we're graced to have one. But the appreciation of an object that makes you stop and think; 'Wow! This is beautiful. This is so well made.' That doesn't happen very often for me, especially as I have arrived in my 50s. Plenty of companies try to market themselves as putting craft over profit but it is supremely rare for it to actually occur. Think about it. To put your art, to put the execution of your craft, above the goal of making a living. . . . well you have to be either very rich, naive, suck at finances or have a deep, deep conviction that doing the right thing, creating an un-compromised product will eventually result in it's own reward. Wow! What a great thing to support and that on it's own adds value to the experience of owning the fruits of that person's labor and expertise. It's really cool.
What I'm trying to explain is something rare for me and it's subtle. There can be lots of joy in life but for me it rarely happens with 'things'. When it comes to things the closest comparison would be working with a really, really well made tool, like a Lie-Nielsen hand saw:
There's something that transcends the work and you catch yourself paying attention to the tool instead of the task at hand. It makes you want to take care of the tool - clean it really well when your done. You can feel it's value, it's importance in your marrow. Weird I know. But it's weirder that you can just drop some cash for a thing and it brings a sense of peace but for me there it is. Something happens in the grey matter that gives meaning to that moment in life and that to me, is part of the enjoyment of knife ownership.
We live in a world of disposable possessions, where cost is king and what we possess rarely has lasting value. We are always looking for the next 'thing'. We research it and read reviews and make our decision and find the best price. Then we pay for it and in a day or a week it is ours. Then we use it and often times forget about it.
For me an inspired folding knife is an object of beauty and for me beauty isn't just it's look. More often than not my brain is wired to see beauty in utility. I have no patience for tchotchkies that just collect dust on a shelf. If something is well made, performs it's intended purpose expertly and is pleasing to the eye, now that's something that brings me joy. That's something that brings pride of ownership.That is what is so alluring about this hobby of knife ownership and why I am an enthusiast.
Tim G.
I loved that knife and I learned how to sharpen on it but after about a year it felt a little small. I didn't like the edge profile either. I then took the jump and purchased a Benchmade Crooked River in Dymondwood from Sportsman's Warehouse.
I loved that thing too but after another year or so it just felt it was a bit too big for EDC chores like opening boxes and cutting rope - too much torque on the wrist for small tasks. It just felt a bit imprecise when trying to use the tip.
I then discovered (and this was back in 2018 when they actually had a storefront) that here in Utah we had a wonderful store called Blade HQ that had a storefront just south of Salt Lake. I went there and after trying out what seemed to me an ocean of choices I settled on the Reate K1 flipper:
Welcome to the passion. Welcome to the world of flipper knives and all the sensory feedback of opening and closing them. I have zero interest now in folders or axis locks or autos or semi-assists. There's something really elegant and useful about being able to open and close a knife with one hand gently. I love flippers because they aren't as agressive as an auto or a semi-assist so you can be more subtle in public. People are intimidated by full sized knives as well as blade action, so combine the two and you need to judge the room before opening unless you just don't give s#!t or are making a statement. Anyways, I love flippers.
But it wasn't happily ever after with my Reate. This spring the lock back on the knife became buggered and I've been dealing with customer support ever since June (It's September). They've had the knife for 3 months now and I miss it. I've had to try and carry the Crooked River again or another axis lock that was my brother-in-law's (I haven't bothered to remember it's name). So the K1's absence is a daily low level annoyance and it's taught me that there is a lot of value in committing to a manufacturer that lives on the same continent as you and speaks the same language from birth. There's also value I suspect in being able to google a manufacturer and find out how people have liked their product and their customer service. Reate has communicated that they may not be able to fix the knife (lack of parts) and then informed me that the tip broke off at some point after I shipped. They have thanked me for my patience as they try to resolve my issues. 3 months and counting.
Anyways, despite all that BS where incompetence and business margins get in the way of an inspired product I don't regret buying the Reate. With that purchase I had just introduced myself to something special. It's something that in the daily grind of life rarely happens: an enjoyment of the existence of a thing. Sure we love our kids, our wife, our friends and we love our home if we're graced to have one. But the appreciation of an object that makes you stop and think; 'Wow! This is beautiful. This is so well made.' That doesn't happen very often for me, especially as I have arrived in my 50s. Plenty of companies try to market themselves as putting craft over profit but it is supremely rare for it to actually occur. Think about it. To put your art, to put the execution of your craft, above the goal of making a living. . . . well you have to be either very rich, naive, suck at finances or have a deep, deep conviction that doing the right thing, creating an un-compromised product will eventually result in it's own reward. Wow! What a great thing to support and that on it's own adds value to the experience of owning the fruits of that person's labor and expertise. It's really cool.
What I'm trying to explain is something rare for me and it's subtle. There can be lots of joy in life but for me it rarely happens with 'things'. When it comes to things the closest comparison would be working with a really, really well made tool, like a Lie-Nielsen hand saw:
There's something that transcends the work and you catch yourself paying attention to the tool instead of the task at hand. It makes you want to take care of the tool - clean it really well when your done. You can feel it's value, it's importance in your marrow. Weird I know. But it's weirder that you can just drop some cash for a thing and it brings a sense of peace but for me there it is. Something happens in the grey matter that gives meaning to that moment in life and that to me, is part of the enjoyment of knife ownership.
We live in a world of disposable possessions, where cost is king and what we possess rarely has lasting value. We are always looking for the next 'thing'. We research it and read reviews and make our decision and find the best price. Then we pay for it and in a day or a week it is ours. Then we use it and often times forget about it.
For me an inspired folding knife is an object of beauty and for me beauty isn't just it's look. More often than not my brain is wired to see beauty in utility. I have no patience for tchotchkies that just collect dust on a shelf. If something is well made, performs it's intended purpose expertly and is pleasing to the eye, now that's something that brings me joy. That's something that brings pride of ownership.That is what is so alluring about this hobby of knife ownership and why I am an enthusiast.
Tim G.
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this is a great community of like minded people. Knives are really works of functional art and when people take time to realize that, it becomes a passion and in many case, an obsession