Unknown Artist, unknown title, but I like it for some reason:
Monthly Archives: September 2010
As promised, after a bit-o-delay, an ode to the Ka-Bar:
The glass of the counter was lined with the white of the flourescent tubes above as I peered into its depths. A form of steel and leather, black and brown peered back, beckoning me to take it in hand. My spine trembled ever so slightly as the men with the key removed it from its glassy dungeon and presented it to me.
On the way home, my sister asked to see what new thing I had in my possession. “Nice knife”, was her reaction when I removed it from the box that cradled my new treasure. Nice, indeed.
Fast forward to the new-born morning of September eighth, in the year of our lord two thousand and ten. I awoke from a pleasant slumber with a chill and a shiver. Damn, my fire that had kept me warm and content had died down to almost nothing. My body shook as I cast off my blanket and breathed fresh life into my fire with fresh twigs on dying coals. The night was clear, and the sky still black as I decided to gather more wood before returning to my dreams. A dead and dried tree leaned over another; enough fuel from its mummified body to last until the return of the sun. My knife came from my hip in silence and began to hack through the four inches of wood one wedge at a time. With a final chop, the free-hanging tree-top finished its fall to earth.
Fresh wood on the fire, and I crawled back into my blanket and slept ’till sun-up with heat from my fire upon my face. When I woke up and began to brew fresh tea for myself and companion on this journey, I had time to think about my knife before he awoke and we were off to hike some more.
I bought my Ka-Bar on a trip with my sister and a friend of hers in my freshman year of high-school. In the eight years since, it has followed me every time I have left to wander the woods. The blade has chopped wood, sliced rope, downed branches, split kindling, and been a comfort whenever a firearm could not follow. The leather of the handle has weathered rain, snow, dust, submersion in rivers, abrasions from granite earth, and the sweat of my palms.
The knife is well-worn and shows every year of hard use it has received. The sheath is no longer the same brown as the day I first passed a belt through. It will win no beauty contests, but I did not buy it to look at.
The oval handle fits my hand like a glove and is comfortable in any grip I take. The blade is just heavy enough to chop if need be, and sharp enough to cut anything so needing. The sheath rides low on my belt and has never failed to keep my tool secure. Before I could carry a gun, the Ka-Bar was a comfort on my belt when out and about. Now, it is an old and trusted friend only used as an edged tool.
The thin tang should bend with the use I have given it, much like the tang on my RH 36 did. It hasn’t. The tip should have chipped from being dropped to ledge. It hasn’t. The leather of the handle should be frayed, cracked, and ruined from day upon day of rain and snow. It isn’t. My Ka-Bar is the first knife that I have ever had full faith in. Every other blade to cross my path has, at some point, failed me. Eight years of un-questioning service in hard use has earned my respect.
Is the classic Ka-Bar the ultimate edged tool? I doubt it. It is for me, but I know plenty of people who are better served by other designs. It is, however an undeniably excellent blade. The knife is our most important tool, and the Ka-Bar takes that responsibility very seriously.
It may look out of place tucked behind my black SERPA, under the plastic grips of my Beretta, on my black belt; but the mass of brown leather and steel has earned that spot and is not about to step aside for some black rubber-gripped knife that will better fit in, but not function any better.
Anyone else have a knife that just seemed made for them?
Ukrainian polka remix of – Hot N Cold:
Off on a hike with the Wife ‘N Kids today, I’ll try to get some good pictures for my Ode To The Ka-Bar post.
Bowling For Soup – 99 Biker Friends:
I am very busy and very late today. Let’s check ye-olde schedule:
- Go to dump
- Package Jerky that finished drying this morning
- Go to dump again for my parents
- Make a big batch of chili
- “Help” my son make a big batch of alphabet soup
- Set up my parents’ yard for a massive “Soup Night” party
- Clean up cat vomit, dog pee, a shattered serving plate-tray-thing, and carrot cake in the carpet
- Go to store to buy three rutabegas (Boy’s soup, Dad’s soup, Boiled dinner later)
- Help clean up when party is over
- In there, still make the usual breakfast and lunch for the wife and kids
- Touch off a couple of fireworks and build a fire to celebrate the anniversary of the signing of the Constitution.
This is not even my busiest day this week. The Ode to the Ka-Bar and thoughts on fire will have to wait until this crazy week is over.