The Circle.
A Japanese proverb says that a man will travel a full circle in his lifetime. And I remember reading someplace that lost hikers tend to walk in a clockwise circle if they are right handed, but they will travel a circle. And fate has been known to play with us now and then, sending us on a circular route. I know I've traveled a circle some ways and things. Like knives.
My old boy scout knife was my starting point in knives. From age 12 until I went into the army it was my knife. The four different blade/tools handled a wide variety of things, and I was happy. I left it hem when I enlisted, the knife by then having sentimental value, and memories of the scouts, my friends Dave, Ev, and even Bobby Ryerson, not to mention Mr. Van. So the scout knife stayed home and I made do with what they had in the supply room, a diet of ML-k and TL-29's. They served me well, but then I got my first SAK while serving in Germany, and saw the giant moving window display in a small knife shop. Again, it was a scout type knife, with tools and blades. I loved SAK's and they came in a dizzying selection of tools with saws, corkscrews, scissors, and even a knife blade or two tucked in there among all the stuff. But it was kind of diluted, as far as knives go, with all thet stuff, and most of the time I just needed to cut something. Then one day at the PX I saw the 300 series Buck pocket knives. I was familiar with Buck knifes, anyone in the army in the 1960's, or anywhere really, had to be aware of them. The black pouches were on the hip of bikers, construction workers, police officers, and soldiers. I had looked at and handled them, but never bit on them. I really couldn't see why anyone would want a large knife with a single lone blade, that weighed about what a Coast Guard approved anchor for a commercial fishing trawler tipped the scales at. But the 300 series was different. The 300 series Bucks would be the knife that would always have a special place in my heart. Good using knives built like a Brinks armored car, and easy springs for cold/wet hands to open on a winter morning.
I bought a 301 stickman, and for the next 25 years or so, it was "my" knife. I loved the choice of three blades, pocket friendly size, and the fart that did not have to pull my car into the truck scales when I was traveling. It really did everything a knife could do. It was my fish and game knife, camping knife, picnic knife, Christmas gift unwrapping knife, and fathers day gift unwrapping knife for when the kids got me a bottle of Old Spice after shave. In time, it got replaced by a Buck 303 cadet. The cadet did everything the 30 did, but was smaller in the pocket. The little cadet may have been the tipping point of my slide toward smaller and lighter. But is was only after my dad's passing that I went to a two blade knife. His old peanut sitting on tiop of my dresser all those months started to becon to me. I liked small, and it still had two blades. I always like having more than one blade, I'm not real sure why. Imean, look at all those old guys in Germany, Italy, France, Sardinia, and here at home in the U.S. of A. that got by with Opinel's, Mercator K55's, sodbusters, resolza's, and other simple one bladed knives.
So I soldiered on with my peanut, and I loved that kind of knife. Small enough to get lost and forgotten while in the pocket, but there when you need to cut something. And it had two blades. All was well in the world. Then I got old. Everthing I eve broke, torn, or had operated on came back to haunt me. Don't let them kid you, it ain't the years, it's the years and milage. Old inures, some broken bones, and turning wrenches and cranking handles on a Bridgeport mill did their work on knuckles and joints. Okay, I can deal with that. I made the transition to the one blade friction folders. The Opinel is easy for older hands to deal with, and the Sardinina resolza is a great little knife. And at just under 2 ounces, it's light. A hold over form my backpacking days makes me obsessive about weight. Small monocular instead of binoculars for the hiking, small knives, freeze dried food, all good. If time stole some capability from me, then by God, I'd adapt and overcome. I remembered how my did finally had to retire his old peanut because he couldn't deal with opening it anymore. So he carried a Christy knife and made do.
I had given a lot thought into who would be the recipient of my peanut that was becoming too difficult for me to manage on a bad day. Fate took a very strong hand in the form of Dan, also known as silenthunterstudios. A good man by any account. We get together now and then, have lunch, take in a knife show. I've turned him onto some of the excellent out of the way eating places that Karen and I have found on our Vespa scooter travels in the Maryland countryside. Dan was the gifter of the GEC 15 that has become one my favorite knives. But the last knife show we were at, Dan outdid himself. He insisted I take his Northwoods stockman. I was reluctant, as it was a larger knife than I normally carry at this stage of my life, but Dan was instant. Only later did I realize why.
I was used to the idea that my Opinel and resolza were going to be my knives from now on. My stiff fingers and painful joints could deal with them. I figured never again would I carry a typical American style multiblade slip joint. I was wrong. I don't know how Dan did it, but he did. This knife has the easiest springs of any slip joint I've tried. Even easier than a well broken in Buck 300. I know that Dan had sent this same knife in for a factory repair, but I can only wonder if he sent in a letter with it, expelling that he knows this old guy who has arthritis in his hands and could they lighten up the springs…
Well, no matter how it happened, I now have a three blade stockman that is a nice round bolster, trim package, weighing in at 2.8 ounces, but that I can actually open with no trouble or pain at all. No matter if it was a custom factory mod, or just pot luck with Northwoods having lighter than normal springs, I feel a renewed sense of being back in the game with three blades on tap just like the old days. The handles are some nice grained wood, and blades of nice old fashioned carbon steel that take a wicked edge. I realy didn't know how to thank Dan enough, so I passed the baton, so to speak. I gave him my precious. My damascus peanut that rode in my pocket for three years and all across the U.S. I guess if the old Grand High Muckba of The Cult has to hand pick the person to step up to the big chair at the head of the table, he could do worse than Dan. And as the old Grand High Muckba goes off to where the water is warm the drinks cold, and wind makes the palm trees rustle, he'll have stockman in his pocket. He's come the full circle.
And yes, that is a patina forming already. Those limes for the gin and tonic don't cut themselves.
A Japanese proverb says that a man will travel a full circle in his lifetime. And I remember reading someplace that lost hikers tend to walk in a clockwise circle if they are right handed, but they will travel a circle. And fate has been known to play with us now and then, sending us on a circular route. I know I've traveled a circle some ways and things. Like knives.
My old boy scout knife was my starting point in knives. From age 12 until I went into the army it was my knife. The four different blade/tools handled a wide variety of things, and I was happy. I left it hem when I enlisted, the knife by then having sentimental value, and memories of the scouts, my friends Dave, Ev, and even Bobby Ryerson, not to mention Mr. Van. So the scout knife stayed home and I made do with what they had in the supply room, a diet of ML-k and TL-29's. They served me well, but then I got my first SAK while serving in Germany, and saw the giant moving window display in a small knife shop. Again, it was a scout type knife, with tools and blades. I loved SAK's and they came in a dizzying selection of tools with saws, corkscrews, scissors, and even a knife blade or two tucked in there among all the stuff. But it was kind of diluted, as far as knives go, with all thet stuff, and most of the time I just needed to cut something. Then one day at the PX I saw the 300 series Buck pocket knives. I was familiar with Buck knifes, anyone in the army in the 1960's, or anywhere really, had to be aware of them. The black pouches were on the hip of bikers, construction workers, police officers, and soldiers. I had looked at and handled them, but never bit on them. I really couldn't see why anyone would want a large knife with a single lone blade, that weighed about what a Coast Guard approved anchor for a commercial fishing trawler tipped the scales at. But the 300 series was different. The 300 series Bucks would be the knife that would always have a special place in my heart. Good using knives built like a Brinks armored car, and easy springs for cold/wet hands to open on a winter morning.
I bought a 301 stickman, and for the next 25 years or so, it was "my" knife. I loved the choice of three blades, pocket friendly size, and the fart that did not have to pull my car into the truck scales when I was traveling. It really did everything a knife could do. It was my fish and game knife, camping knife, picnic knife, Christmas gift unwrapping knife, and fathers day gift unwrapping knife for when the kids got me a bottle of Old Spice after shave. In time, it got replaced by a Buck 303 cadet. The cadet did everything the 30 did, but was smaller in the pocket. The little cadet may have been the tipping point of my slide toward smaller and lighter. But is was only after my dad's passing that I went to a two blade knife. His old peanut sitting on tiop of my dresser all those months started to becon to me. I liked small, and it still had two blades. I always like having more than one blade, I'm not real sure why. Imean, look at all those old guys in Germany, Italy, France, Sardinia, and here at home in the U.S. of A. that got by with Opinel's, Mercator K55's, sodbusters, resolza's, and other simple one bladed knives.
So I soldiered on with my peanut, and I loved that kind of knife. Small enough to get lost and forgotten while in the pocket, but there when you need to cut something. And it had two blades. All was well in the world. Then I got old. Everthing I eve broke, torn, or had operated on came back to haunt me. Don't let them kid you, it ain't the years, it's the years and milage. Old inures, some broken bones, and turning wrenches and cranking handles on a Bridgeport mill did their work on knuckles and joints. Okay, I can deal with that. I made the transition to the one blade friction folders. The Opinel is easy for older hands to deal with, and the Sardinina resolza is a great little knife. And at just under 2 ounces, it's light. A hold over form my backpacking days makes me obsessive about weight. Small monocular instead of binoculars for the hiking, small knives, freeze dried food, all good. If time stole some capability from me, then by God, I'd adapt and overcome. I remembered how my did finally had to retire his old peanut because he couldn't deal with opening it anymore. So he carried a Christy knife and made do.
I had given a lot thought into who would be the recipient of my peanut that was becoming too difficult for me to manage on a bad day. Fate took a very strong hand in the form of Dan, also known as silenthunterstudios. A good man by any account. We get together now and then, have lunch, take in a knife show. I've turned him onto some of the excellent out of the way eating places that Karen and I have found on our Vespa scooter travels in the Maryland countryside. Dan was the gifter of the GEC 15 that has become one my favorite knives. But the last knife show we were at, Dan outdid himself. He insisted I take his Northwoods stockman. I was reluctant, as it was a larger knife than I normally carry at this stage of my life, but Dan was instant. Only later did I realize why.
I was used to the idea that my Opinel and resolza were going to be my knives from now on. My stiff fingers and painful joints could deal with them. I figured never again would I carry a typical American style multiblade slip joint. I was wrong. I don't know how Dan did it, but he did. This knife has the easiest springs of any slip joint I've tried. Even easier than a well broken in Buck 300. I know that Dan had sent this same knife in for a factory repair, but I can only wonder if he sent in a letter with it, expelling that he knows this old guy who has arthritis in his hands and could they lighten up the springs…
Well, no matter how it happened, I now have a three blade stockman that is a nice round bolster, trim package, weighing in at 2.8 ounces, but that I can actually open with no trouble or pain at all. No matter if it was a custom factory mod, or just pot luck with Northwoods having lighter than normal springs, I feel a renewed sense of being back in the game with three blades on tap just like the old days. The handles are some nice grained wood, and blades of nice old fashioned carbon steel that take a wicked edge. I realy didn't know how to thank Dan enough, so I passed the baton, so to speak. I gave him my precious. My damascus peanut that rode in my pocket for three years and all across the U.S. I guess if the old Grand High Muckba of The Cult has to hand pick the person to step up to the big chair at the head of the table, he could do worse than Dan. And as the old Grand High Muckba goes off to where the water is warm the drinks cold, and wind makes the palm trees rustle, he'll have stockman in his pocket. He's come the full circle.
And yes, that is a patina forming already. Those limes for the gin and tonic don't cut themselves.
). He prefers wheel guns and lever actions over Glocks and AR15s, I'm afraid to show off a gun to him for fear he might like it a bit too much 
