I recall the first pocket-knife my father ever gave me. It was a very plain thing, without bells and whistles of any sort but boy….I loved that simple little tool; two blades set opposite each other, encased in a plain wooden handle. If memory serves it was a Schrade Old-Timer, and though I regret to say I’ve long lost track of it, the memory alone is still enough to smile about. But even though I’ve long lost the Old-Timer its influence on my choices still lingers….evidenced by a quick glance at my pockets.
Today my favorite pocket-knife is the Kershaw-Leek you see above (black-blade). In my eyes it is the grandson of my first knife, a modern interpretation of what the Old-Timer pocket knives were: simple tools with a certain level of modesty unbecoming of what they could do. Not fancy or flashy. Not loaded with modern bells and whistles.
The Kershaw-Leek epitomizes those traits. One blade. No decor. No fancies and the assisted open is long-gone. Yet it always does the job, its always ready to work. And until the steel is worn away and the bolts begin to break….I’m confident it always will be.
So if you don’t mind me asking….what’s your carry knife? More importantly….whats the story behind it?