One of the benefits of growing old, is looking back and being able to assess things in your life. One of the curses of growing old is looking back and being able to assess things in your life. A double edge coin to be sure. But, since pocket knives are the subject of this forum, I'll talk about that. Being all knife knuts here, we all understand how we all have a favorite knife for different parts of our lives. Being knife nuts, some of us just are floozies and change our affections from knife to knife as we go through life. I know that I am an unashamed knife floozy. We accumulate, collect, and acquire until we have enough pocket knives for several lifetimes. All in the name of fun, though our spouses sometimes feel different and question our mental health.
Being a knife nut, I feel I've sampled a wide variety of knife patterns, but some of them hung around for a while and others have lasted a few days before I knew they were not for me. Scout patterns, barrows, stockman, pens, jacks, toothpicks, all have been in my pocket. My dad gave me a scout knife when I joined the boy scouts. I carried that knife from age 12 to when I left it home when I enlisted in the army. It was a great pocket knife to carry, and it set a trend for me of having multiple blades with a few tools. Joining the army, I was sent after boot camp to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, for my Engineer training. Still knife less, I got a all stainless steel knife from the supply room, and it was another scout knife. A continuation of what I was carrying from age 12. So, there I was in the army and still carrying a scout pattern pocket knife.
And then Buck happened. I was at the PX doing some shopping, and saw a Buck knife display. I had seen plenty of Buck knives, the big 110, and didn't like them. I was one of the rare people on the planet who don't go ape over a large, over weight, limited use single blade knife that needed a belt holster to carry. But that day I saw the display of the 300 series. I fell for the 301 stockman. The idea of three different blades, with three different uses, appealed to me. It was the idea of versatility I think, being a long term user of multi blade pocket knives. The 301 went into my pocket and pretty much stayed there for e next 25 years.
Oh, I had flirtations with other knives. I went through a sodbuster stage, and had Eye-Brand, Case, Herters and a few others. I experimented with Douk-Douk's, and Opinels. I had a Mercator K55. But after the new wore off, I'd go back to the 301. Just too much useful knife there. I'd keep a SAK in the daypack for the tools and wine opening. But nine times out of ten, the Buck 301 was in my pocket for a very long time. By and by, it got relieved by a 303 cadet for a few years. Then my dad passed away.
My dad and I had a hard time for a lot of years, but finally made a relationship of sorts. Even went fishing together. I was always intrigued watching him use his little Case peanut for almost everything, from cutting bait to opening his mail. For a few years after he passed, his old peanut was sitting in the tray on top of my dresser, and one day I dropped it in my pocket to carry. Just for sentiment you know. I'd use it gently, and I was actually really amazed at how it sliced through stuff. I broke down and bought a yellow handled 'nut to experiment with. I'd carry it with my stockman as backup, then after some months, left the stockman home. The tiny seeming jack kind of took over my pocket, and kept it for several years. I felt a weird kind of freedom in carrying such a small pocket knife that took up so little pocket space. This was a period of my life where I had turned to ultra light backpacking as age and the after effects of the old service injury that ended my army career had a greater impact on my life. I had become obsessed with how small could an item be, and still function at it's intended task. Hiking the A.T. with bum wheel under me, the pack weight had to be kept down to 25 to 30 pounds. AAA flashlights instead of AA, and monoculars instead of even small binoculars. Cutting off the little paper tags on tea bags. The whole nine yards of ultra light insanity. Being a late middle age guy on a cane and still wanting to go backpacking, some things had to be a compromise. I became a disciple of the mighty Legume. And even the Victorinox classic. And small as the peanut was, it still had two blades to give me choice and a 'spare' blade if needed.
But the wheel of life keeps turning, and things change. Late middle age turns into senior citizen years before we know it, and I had started to fumble with the peanut. I guess thirty years of cranking on Bridgeport mills and Clausing drill press handles left me with some good ostio arthritis, and I made some changes in things I did or used. My old Cross pen gave way to Pilot or Zebra comfort grip pens, and stiffly sprung little slip joints gave way to European friction folders like the Opinel and Resolza. They certainly worked well as cutting tools, like they had done for a few hundred years of European peasants. Effective and light, they are great knives. I do indeed value my Sardinian resolza, as it's as beautiful as it is effective at cutting. The Japanese higonokami is as effective and interesting as well. But even through it all, I had an un-scratched itch. A slight yearning for what once was, and with all the knife patterns I used and was happy with in my different stages of life, there was one knife that I never forgot. It was the period of my life where I was close to being the mythical one-knife-man.
At our Thursday morning breakfast of the guys in the neighborhood, my neighbor Morris took out his "new" knife that he bought last year to replace a lost one. Sitting across the table from him, I saw the unmistakable profile of a Buck 301. It was one of the new Buck's with the hollow grind instated of the old flat grind, and the nail nicks instead of the long pulls like I was used to. But it was still a Buck 301, and I waxed a bit nostalgic over it. Morris handed it across the table and I coon fingered it well, and chicken eye'd it thoroughly. To my amazement, the blade pulls were very soft. Softer than even my much loved Victorinox SAK's that I use as a gold standard of fit and finish and pull pounds. I'd heard talk of how soft the blade pulls had become on the newer 300 series Bucks, but this was the first 301 I had coon fingered in a very long while. Years. This new 301 of my neighbors was easy for an old fart with arthritis to pull open, and still had the three great blade shapes in one pocket size package.
It brought back a ton of memories, of bird and small game use on four continents, construction site duty on army and air force bases, and whittling hot dog sticks for my kids when they were that small. Looking back over my whole life, that 25 years of carrying the old Buck 301 was my non knife nut years, and I never needed another knife on me back then. I guess you could say that while I was carrying my old 301, I was not a knife nut. I had that "one" knife and that did for me. It fulfilled all my knife needs in my 30's, 40's and half my 50's. That says a lot for one pattern and one manufacturer.
The Japanese have a saying that life is like a wheel. Everything comes around again. It would funny if I went back to using a Buck 301 again to finish out this plane of existence. After all, it was my favorite pocket knife if I judge it by years continuously carried.
Being a knife nut, I feel I've sampled a wide variety of knife patterns, but some of them hung around for a while and others have lasted a few days before I knew they were not for me. Scout patterns, barrows, stockman, pens, jacks, toothpicks, all have been in my pocket. My dad gave me a scout knife when I joined the boy scouts. I carried that knife from age 12 to when I left it home when I enlisted in the army. It was a great pocket knife to carry, and it set a trend for me of having multiple blades with a few tools. Joining the army, I was sent after boot camp to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, for my Engineer training. Still knife less, I got a all stainless steel knife from the supply room, and it was another scout knife. A continuation of what I was carrying from age 12. So, there I was in the army and still carrying a scout pattern pocket knife.
And then Buck happened. I was at the PX doing some shopping, and saw a Buck knife display. I had seen plenty of Buck knives, the big 110, and didn't like them. I was one of the rare people on the planet who don't go ape over a large, over weight, limited use single blade knife that needed a belt holster to carry. But that day I saw the display of the 300 series. I fell for the 301 stockman. The idea of three different blades, with three different uses, appealed to me. It was the idea of versatility I think, being a long term user of multi blade pocket knives. The 301 went into my pocket and pretty much stayed there for e next 25 years.
Oh, I had flirtations with other knives. I went through a sodbuster stage, and had Eye-Brand, Case, Herters and a few others. I experimented with Douk-Douk's, and Opinels. I had a Mercator K55. But after the new wore off, I'd go back to the 301. Just too much useful knife there. I'd keep a SAK in the daypack for the tools and wine opening. But nine times out of ten, the Buck 301 was in my pocket for a very long time. By and by, it got relieved by a 303 cadet for a few years. Then my dad passed away.
My dad and I had a hard time for a lot of years, but finally made a relationship of sorts. Even went fishing together. I was always intrigued watching him use his little Case peanut for almost everything, from cutting bait to opening his mail. For a few years after he passed, his old peanut was sitting in the tray on top of my dresser, and one day I dropped it in my pocket to carry. Just for sentiment you know. I'd use it gently, and I was actually really amazed at how it sliced through stuff. I broke down and bought a yellow handled 'nut to experiment with. I'd carry it with my stockman as backup, then after some months, left the stockman home. The tiny seeming jack kind of took over my pocket, and kept it for several years. I felt a weird kind of freedom in carrying such a small pocket knife that took up so little pocket space. This was a period of my life where I had turned to ultra light backpacking as age and the after effects of the old service injury that ended my army career had a greater impact on my life. I had become obsessed with how small could an item be, and still function at it's intended task. Hiking the A.T. with bum wheel under me, the pack weight had to be kept down to 25 to 30 pounds. AAA flashlights instead of AA, and monoculars instead of even small binoculars. Cutting off the little paper tags on tea bags. The whole nine yards of ultra light insanity. Being a late middle age guy on a cane and still wanting to go backpacking, some things had to be a compromise. I became a disciple of the mighty Legume. And even the Victorinox classic. And small as the peanut was, it still had two blades to give me choice and a 'spare' blade if needed.
But the wheel of life keeps turning, and things change. Late middle age turns into senior citizen years before we know it, and I had started to fumble with the peanut. I guess thirty years of cranking on Bridgeport mills and Clausing drill press handles left me with some good ostio arthritis, and I made some changes in things I did or used. My old Cross pen gave way to Pilot or Zebra comfort grip pens, and stiffly sprung little slip joints gave way to European friction folders like the Opinel and Resolza. They certainly worked well as cutting tools, like they had done for a few hundred years of European peasants. Effective and light, they are great knives. I do indeed value my Sardinian resolza, as it's as beautiful as it is effective at cutting. The Japanese higonokami is as effective and interesting as well. But even through it all, I had an un-scratched itch. A slight yearning for what once was, and with all the knife patterns I used and was happy with in my different stages of life, there was one knife that I never forgot. It was the period of my life where I was close to being the mythical one-knife-man.
At our Thursday morning breakfast of the guys in the neighborhood, my neighbor Morris took out his "new" knife that he bought last year to replace a lost one. Sitting across the table from him, I saw the unmistakable profile of a Buck 301. It was one of the new Buck's with the hollow grind instated of the old flat grind, and the nail nicks instead of the long pulls like I was used to. But it was still a Buck 301, and I waxed a bit nostalgic over it. Morris handed it across the table and I coon fingered it well, and chicken eye'd it thoroughly. To my amazement, the blade pulls were very soft. Softer than even my much loved Victorinox SAK's that I use as a gold standard of fit and finish and pull pounds. I'd heard talk of how soft the blade pulls had become on the newer 300 series Bucks, but this was the first 301 I had coon fingered in a very long while. Years. This new 301 of my neighbors was easy for an old fart with arthritis to pull open, and still had the three great blade shapes in one pocket size package.
It brought back a ton of memories, of bird and small game use on four continents, construction site duty on army and air force bases, and whittling hot dog sticks for my kids when they were that small. Looking back over my whole life, that 25 years of carrying the old Buck 301 was my non knife nut years, and I never needed another knife on me back then. I guess you could say that while I was carrying my old 301, I was not a knife nut. I had that "one" knife and that did for me. It fulfilled all my knife needs in my 30's, 40's and half my 50's. That says a lot for one pattern and one manufacturer.
The Japanese have a saying that life is like a wheel. Everything comes around again. It would funny if I went back to using a Buck 301 again to finish out this plane of existence. After all, it was my favorite pocket knife if I judge it by years continuously carried.
.
. Still I have my favorites, the ones that always find their way into my pocket. I can put a different knife in my pocket every morning but when I empty my pocket at the end of the night, no matter what I put in there in the morning, the Chestnut bone Swayback Jack always tumbles out onto the nightstand. Somehow it manages to climb outta the box on the nightstand and locate me, finally with the stealth or a cougar climb into my pocket.
I had four with me and put them on the table. My friends are not at all interested in knives but they know I have this 'thing' which amuses them