- Joined
- Oct 25, 2004
- Messages
- 3,178
The MWKK '05 taught me several lessons. (Some more painful than others.) One of the most valuable concerned the joys of power stropping with chromium oxide compound. Until then, I did not power strop...I used a piece of an old belt. I did not use chromium oxide...no one around here sells it and the black emery cake from Sears seemed to be working. I did not know what sharp was. I do now.
My package from Lee Valley arrived yesterday. I've been quite busy since then.
To my credit, most of the blades that I've gone over thus far had been very close to sharp; they needed only a minor power stropping to get to where I really wanted them. A few needed a touch from the 1200 grit belt, but only a few. But, they'll all get their time on the leather eventually, in no particular order.
Today I had a few planned. The kagas katne, which had not been used, nor sharpened, in a while. My new/old M43 from the MWKK, after having seen some hard use recently. The 20" siru - it always seems to be sharp but I wanted it sharper. The villager BGRS, also from the MWKK, the new rising star in my lineup. The sharpening was easy and I figured that I'd get a few more. The 30" siru caught my eye.
We're old enemies, the siru and I. It's an incredible blade. It's the one that I chopped up the truck fender with. Chipping? Waving? Minor dulling, as in it wouldn't shave afterwards but it would still cut paper. The file tells me that it's differentially hardened but I can't seem to bring out the lines, no matter how many etches I perform. I have a close call with it every time it comes out of the scabbard. This is the stuff of legend.
Sharpen it? Of course I'd sharpen it. But I'd be very careful.
My room mate was installing a light in the garage. I warned him to stay clear. If anything went wrong, I didn't want anyone else getting hurt.
"What're you doing?" he asked.
"Sharpening the siru," I said.
"Why do you need me to move?" he asked.
"Because I'm sharpening this one," I said. It was then that he looked.
"Oh," he said. "That one. Let me know when you're done."
This siru isn't picky about who it goes after.
I don't wear gloves while working on the belt grinder but today, I did. You can never be too safe. After the job was done, I quickly returned it to its scabbard, praised myself on a job well done, and noticed a superficial cut on the back of my right arm, already clotted.
A nail must've done that. That, or a splinter, despite the lack of dirt and clean edges. I will continue to tell myself this and I will continue not to believe it.
Tomorrow is a maintenance day at work. I will be working the fenceline, clearing the mandatory 10' zone. This is fine. I've never had an issue with getting an honest day's pay for an honest day's work out in the woods. It's one of the few aspects of my job that I enjoy. I will miss the Camp when we leave it.
It's a long walk back there, rough country and decades of growth. Nothing on wheels can get there and while the road is less than a mile away, you'd never know it in the middle of an old growth forest. It's a place where the khukuri comes into its own - too far to pack the fuel for something that runs on gas, tough enough to make a machete cry for mercy...fallen trees, resinous wood, years of scotch broom and tall grass and rhodadendrons. I'd briefly considered the siru. Not yet. I don't trust it.
It's always been a minor thing: clothing cut but not skin, a scrape maybe, a nick that's not deep enough to bleed. Today it drew blood. Just a drop, but that's a start. What if it decides that it wants more tomorrow? I'll either walk out or be carried out but neither will be quick. I can't trust this one yet. It'll be used in the back yard for a while longer. A shame, but necessary.
But, I suppose that's an advantage of having more than one khukuri...there's always another option and it's usually an enjoyable one.
My package from Lee Valley arrived yesterday. I've been quite busy since then.
To my credit, most of the blades that I've gone over thus far had been very close to sharp; they needed only a minor power stropping to get to where I really wanted them. A few needed a touch from the 1200 grit belt, but only a few. But, they'll all get their time on the leather eventually, in no particular order.
Today I had a few planned. The kagas katne, which had not been used, nor sharpened, in a while. My new/old M43 from the MWKK, after having seen some hard use recently. The 20" siru - it always seems to be sharp but I wanted it sharper. The villager BGRS, also from the MWKK, the new rising star in my lineup. The sharpening was easy and I figured that I'd get a few more. The 30" siru caught my eye.
We're old enemies, the siru and I. It's an incredible blade. It's the one that I chopped up the truck fender with. Chipping? Waving? Minor dulling, as in it wouldn't shave afterwards but it would still cut paper. The file tells me that it's differentially hardened but I can't seem to bring out the lines, no matter how many etches I perform. I have a close call with it every time it comes out of the scabbard. This is the stuff of legend.
Sharpen it? Of course I'd sharpen it. But I'd be very careful.
My room mate was installing a light in the garage. I warned him to stay clear. If anything went wrong, I didn't want anyone else getting hurt.
"What're you doing?" he asked.
"Sharpening the siru," I said.
"Why do you need me to move?" he asked.
"Because I'm sharpening this one," I said. It was then that he looked.
"Oh," he said. "That one. Let me know when you're done."
This siru isn't picky about who it goes after.
I don't wear gloves while working on the belt grinder but today, I did. You can never be too safe. After the job was done, I quickly returned it to its scabbard, praised myself on a job well done, and noticed a superficial cut on the back of my right arm, already clotted.
A nail must've done that. That, or a splinter, despite the lack of dirt and clean edges. I will continue to tell myself this and I will continue not to believe it.
Tomorrow is a maintenance day at work. I will be working the fenceline, clearing the mandatory 10' zone. This is fine. I've never had an issue with getting an honest day's pay for an honest day's work out in the woods. It's one of the few aspects of my job that I enjoy. I will miss the Camp when we leave it.
It's a long walk back there, rough country and decades of growth. Nothing on wheels can get there and while the road is less than a mile away, you'd never know it in the middle of an old growth forest. It's a place where the khukuri comes into its own - too far to pack the fuel for something that runs on gas, tough enough to make a machete cry for mercy...fallen trees, resinous wood, years of scotch broom and tall grass and rhodadendrons. I'd briefly considered the siru. Not yet. I don't trust it.
It's always been a minor thing: clothing cut but not skin, a scrape maybe, a nick that's not deep enough to bleed. Today it drew blood. Just a drop, but that's a start. What if it decides that it wants more tomorrow? I'll either walk out or be carried out but neither will be quick. I can't trust this one yet. It'll be used in the back yard for a while longer. A shame, but necessary.
But, I suppose that's an advantage of having more than one khukuri...there's always another option and it's usually an enjoyable one.
) for beating me to Rusty's 30" Siru. It means you were supposed to have it. I'll know mine when I see it in the sun.