“Over the mountains of the moon,
Down the Valley Of The shadow,
Ride boldly ride, said the shade,
If you seek for Eldorado.”
Edgar Allen Poe wrote that as the ending of a poem about a knight in search of the fabled lost city of gold. He spent his whole life in search of something that didn’t exist. Kind of like the search for the perfect pocket knife. People, like died in the wool knife nuts, spend a lot of time and money in search of the perfect knife.
I wish I could have talked to them, as I found the perfect pocket knife a long time ago. In fact, I may an expert on the perfect knife. I’ve had at least a dozen of them, so I must be an expert if numbers are any indication. Since the age of 12, I think I’ve had more examples of the perfect knife than most other folks. It’s been a long and winding road, but I’ve found my perfect pocket knife was anything from a Case peanut, to a large Case sodbuster, to a Buck 301 stockman.
At age 12 my dad gave me a scout knife. For many years, all through my teens, that scout knife was my perfect knife. It cut, it opened cans of chili and baked beans on camping trips, and in my late teens, opened nice cold bottles of beer. Surely it was the perfect pocket knife. But then I enlisted in the army and I found a new perfect pocket knife.
The stockman was a great knife for a young G.I. in a construction type of job in the army engineers. Lots of stuff to cut, and three different blades and edges to choose from. It serves as well as a small game and fish knife. For 25 years that well used but never abused Buck 301 served as my perfect do everything knife. It was a little lacking for tools, but that’s what the Sear’s 4-way keychain screw driver and P-38 in my wallet were for. The Buck did the cutting, and the screwing and can opening were done by the right tool for the job, like dad would sometimes tell me with a bit of a head slap to the back of the noggin.
Then there was the SAK’s. Fort a very long time I was a huge enthusiast of the red handle wonders of small bundles of tools for those little sudden problems life loves to throw at us. Like small repairs of old motorcycles on the road, an outboard motor that needs a bit of tweaking to get back to the dock, or a gun sight that needs a little windage adjustment. Lots of tools in a small pocket size package was many times in my life, the perfect pocket knife. Especially standing by the side of a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, wondering what the heck do I do now? Yes, the SAK was my perfect pocket on many occasions.
But for the most part, it was rare the SAK did something that my Sear’s 4-way or P-38 couldn’t, so the dedicated pocket knife was it. For many years, the little Case peanut that dad carried was my perfect pocket knife. It cut like the dickens, was small enough that I could drop it in the pocket and forget about it, and in the real world of a middle age soccer and Lacrosse dad driving a minivan to the kids activities, it cut everything I really needed to cut. It opened packages of snacks, cut snarled rubber bands out of little girls ponytails, broke down cardboard boxes for the recycle bin, and even cut up a bandana for little boys finger to get a bandage for a cut. My little peanut was my perfect pocket knife for years. Only age and arthritis made replacing it necessary.
Opinels. I carried, fussed with, modified, and finagled so many I’ve lost count. They were low cost to use as a project/experiment knife, and easy to give away to someone in need of a knife. And they do cut like the dickens. Yes, they are a bit wiggy and the wood will shrink or expand with moisture, and the lock ring needs a bit of filing to make it more secure. But they are sooooo light weight for their size and they cut like the dickens, so for a very long time, an Opinel was my perfect pocket knife. I still use the heck out a number 8 and number 6, with the number 6 being a regular to see my pocket lining. I liked them in 1982ish when I got my first one, and now as an old fart who loves friction folders, they are still a regular. A high up on the list kind of regular.
The Douk-Douk. As a young G.I. and on TDY to Wheelus Air Force base, Libya, we were doing work on lengthing the runways so Wheelus could be a stop off point for the B-52’s. We spent some months at Wheelus and our local sourced labor was the local Arab populace. I saw so many of them with a well used Douk-Douk, and was impressed with how well then worked, that I ended up getting one and using the ever lovin dog poo out of it. Very very impressive knife, and not just for the price. Even back in Germany, the Douk-Douk was for a while my favorite pocket knife. Flat, light, and very sturdy, it also took a great edge off a stone in a very short while and cut like the dickens. But I was still stationed in Germany, so the sodbuster snuck into my life.
In Germany, a lot of the civil engineers we worked with, and German troops carried a sodbuster. The old Herters wood handled sodbuster was a great knife. I tried one, like the knife floozy I am, and liked it. The Herters was followed by a Boker, and that was joined by a Case yellow and CV sodbuster. For a while the soddie was my favorite pocket knife. It certainly cut like the dickens and was a rugged and simple knife that shrugged off “hard use” as the kids say nowadays. The sodbuster, like the Douk-Douk, was an honest to gosh hard working knife that you didn’t have to baby. Just use the ever lovin dog poo outa.
But somewhere along the line, I got old. I’m not exactly sure just when this happened, but it did. Now as a retired old fart, or, excuse me, mature gentleman of leisure, I find I need a sharp knife even more than I did in my younger day. With no job taking up my time, I find myself fishing way more than I used to, and with all the lakes in this part of Texas, I can visit a different lake everyday for a week. Theres my friends that are also retired mature gentlemen of leisure, and a lot of days of the week will find us in our folding chairs in the shade of a oak tree, on the shore of a lake or river. There we’ll cut bait, trim fishing line, make sourdough roll sandwiches with summer sausage and/or cheese, and solve the problems of the world while downing some cold ones. Of late I’ve been using a Victorinox florist knife, a number 6 opined, my old Sardinian resolza, or even a Japanese Higonokami. What they all haven common is, they all cut like the dickens. So I guess it could be said my current favorite knife is some sort of friction folder.
So I guess I must be an expert in the perfect knife. I’ve had enough favorite pocket knives to fill a cigar box, and very single one of them were my absolutely favorite knife for that time of my life, for who I was then, what I was doing, and where I was.
Down the Valley Of The shadow,
Ride boldly ride, said the shade,
If you seek for Eldorado.”
Edgar Allen Poe wrote that as the ending of a poem about a knight in search of the fabled lost city of gold. He spent his whole life in search of something that didn’t exist. Kind of like the search for the perfect pocket knife. People, like died in the wool knife nuts, spend a lot of time and money in search of the perfect knife.
I wish I could have talked to them, as I found the perfect pocket knife a long time ago. In fact, I may an expert on the perfect knife. I’ve had at least a dozen of them, so I must be an expert if numbers are any indication. Since the age of 12, I think I’ve had more examples of the perfect knife than most other folks. It’s been a long and winding road, but I’ve found my perfect pocket knife was anything from a Case peanut, to a large Case sodbuster, to a Buck 301 stockman.
At age 12 my dad gave me a scout knife. For many years, all through my teens, that scout knife was my perfect knife. It cut, it opened cans of chili and baked beans on camping trips, and in my late teens, opened nice cold bottles of beer. Surely it was the perfect pocket knife. But then I enlisted in the army and I found a new perfect pocket knife.
The stockman was a great knife for a young G.I. in a construction type of job in the army engineers. Lots of stuff to cut, and three different blades and edges to choose from. It serves as well as a small game and fish knife. For 25 years that well used but never abused Buck 301 served as my perfect do everything knife. It was a little lacking for tools, but that’s what the Sear’s 4-way keychain screw driver and P-38 in my wallet were for. The Buck did the cutting, and the screwing and can opening were done by the right tool for the job, like dad would sometimes tell me with a bit of a head slap to the back of the noggin.
Then there was the SAK’s. Fort a very long time I was a huge enthusiast of the red handle wonders of small bundles of tools for those little sudden problems life loves to throw at us. Like small repairs of old motorcycles on the road, an outboard motor that needs a bit of tweaking to get back to the dock, or a gun sight that needs a little windage adjustment. Lots of tools in a small pocket size package was many times in my life, the perfect pocket knife. Especially standing by the side of a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, wondering what the heck do I do now? Yes, the SAK was my perfect pocket on many occasions.
But for the most part, it was rare the SAK did something that my Sear’s 4-way or P-38 couldn’t, so the dedicated pocket knife was it. For many years, the little Case peanut that dad carried was my perfect pocket knife. It cut like the dickens, was small enough that I could drop it in the pocket and forget about it, and in the real world of a middle age soccer and Lacrosse dad driving a minivan to the kids activities, it cut everything I really needed to cut. It opened packages of snacks, cut snarled rubber bands out of little girls ponytails, broke down cardboard boxes for the recycle bin, and even cut up a bandana for little boys finger to get a bandage for a cut. My little peanut was my perfect pocket knife for years. Only age and arthritis made replacing it necessary.
Opinels. I carried, fussed with, modified, and finagled so many I’ve lost count. They were low cost to use as a project/experiment knife, and easy to give away to someone in need of a knife. And they do cut like the dickens. Yes, they are a bit wiggy and the wood will shrink or expand with moisture, and the lock ring needs a bit of filing to make it more secure. But they are sooooo light weight for their size and they cut like the dickens, so for a very long time, an Opinel was my perfect pocket knife. I still use the heck out a number 8 and number 6, with the number 6 being a regular to see my pocket lining. I liked them in 1982ish when I got my first one, and now as an old fart who loves friction folders, they are still a regular. A high up on the list kind of regular.
The Douk-Douk. As a young G.I. and on TDY to Wheelus Air Force base, Libya, we were doing work on lengthing the runways so Wheelus could be a stop off point for the B-52’s. We spent some months at Wheelus and our local sourced labor was the local Arab populace. I saw so many of them with a well used Douk-Douk, and was impressed with how well then worked, that I ended up getting one and using the ever lovin dog poo out of it. Very very impressive knife, and not just for the price. Even back in Germany, the Douk-Douk was for a while my favorite pocket knife. Flat, light, and very sturdy, it also took a great edge off a stone in a very short while and cut like the dickens. But I was still stationed in Germany, so the sodbuster snuck into my life.
In Germany, a lot of the civil engineers we worked with, and German troops carried a sodbuster. The old Herters wood handled sodbuster was a great knife. I tried one, like the knife floozy I am, and liked it. The Herters was followed by a Boker, and that was joined by a Case yellow and CV sodbuster. For a while the soddie was my favorite pocket knife. It certainly cut like the dickens and was a rugged and simple knife that shrugged off “hard use” as the kids say nowadays. The sodbuster, like the Douk-Douk, was an honest to gosh hard working knife that you didn’t have to baby. Just use the ever lovin dog poo outa.
But somewhere along the line, I got old. I’m not exactly sure just when this happened, but it did. Now as a retired old fart, or, excuse me, mature gentleman of leisure, I find I need a sharp knife even more than I did in my younger day. With no job taking up my time, I find myself fishing way more than I used to, and with all the lakes in this part of Texas, I can visit a different lake everyday for a week. Theres my friends that are also retired mature gentlemen of leisure, and a lot of days of the week will find us in our folding chairs in the shade of a oak tree, on the shore of a lake or river. There we’ll cut bait, trim fishing line, make sourdough roll sandwiches with summer sausage and/or cheese, and solve the problems of the world while downing some cold ones. Of late I’ve been using a Victorinox florist knife, a number 6 opined, my old Sardinian resolza, or even a Japanese Higonokami. What they all haven common is, they all cut like the dickens. So I guess it could be said my current favorite knife is some sort of friction folder.
So I guess I must be an expert in the perfect knife. I’ve had enough favorite pocket knives to fill a cigar box, and very single one of them were my absolutely favorite knife for that time of my life, for who I was then, what I was doing, and where I was.
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