Our windswept perch on the western flank of The Mountain hasn’t been breezy for weeks. I don’t recall that being the case a year ago. Then again, last July and August I probably was preoccupied with day after day of triple-digit heat, which was worse than it’s been this year (and it lasted longer, too).
The day will come when our American Life on The Mountain will become more about living than building. The basic things will be done.
We’ve come a long way. It was a year ago yesterday that we got grid power. The cabin and running water would follow soon after. We’re still faced with a daunting project and very limited funds, but we’ve managed to carve out a space that feels more like Home every day.
Eventually we’ll shift from creating and building to maintaining and expanding. In the meantime, it does me good every now and then to live as if we’re there already.
Early yesterday morning, I grabbed an armless folding camp chair (brought back from Ohio), took my coffee into the woods and put the camper and the cabin out of my sight. I shrugged off worries and listened to birdsongs.
Refreshed by an hour of solitude, I had but one regular chore to do — fill the dogs’ food canisters. I knocked that out quickly, then hopped into the Ranger and, smiling, eased down the road.
I found Deb’s cousin at the halfway point of the grade, toiling away again on the section that had washed out several weeks ago. When he saw me rolling up in the buggy, he shut off his tractor and lit a cigarette, and we talked there a good while.
Farther down, a neighbor was mowing. Another stop, another long chat.
And I paused again to talk with Deb’s cousin on my way back up.
It was a dose of easy Country livin’, connecting with neighbors on a pleasant summer morning. We all had work to do, but work could wait.
I needed that.
I know I’ve talked about Swiss Army knives a bunch the last few weeks. I’m gonna do it one more time, today, and that’ll be it for a while. (Until I get ’round to telling you about a couple of SAK tips and tricks, that is.)
The reason I’m so fond of this type of pocketknife, I think, is that my very first knife was multi-blade Cub Scout knife made by Camillus, and my second was an Ulster official Boy Scout knife. No American cutlery company still makes the pattern, as far as I know — pliers-based multi-tools have conquered that niche — so if I want a “Scout knife,” it’ll have to be Swiss.
Also, for the record, I’ve always been on Team Victorinox. The smaller (85mm) Wenger knives (before the company was bought by its Swiss rival) never did it for me.
Although I own a lot of Victorinox knives, I do have my favorites — four of them, actually. Here are the ones that appeal most to me.
Fieldmaster ($50)
This is the 91mm model that I re-handled in orange G10 earlier this week. Out of the box, it’s fitted with the classic red Celidor scales, and it features what I consider the most useful toolset.
Having cutting blades of two different sizes is invaluable to me. The saw is essential. Scissors are just plain handy sometimes. And the Philips screwdriver beats the hell out of getting stuck with a damnable corkscrew.
Farmer ($55)
If I had to choose one Victorinox Swiss Army knife, based solely on its utility, this would be it. The Alox-handled 93mm Farmer is built like a tank, is compact and carries well.
Two layers, five tools — blade, screwdriver/caplifter, small screwdriver/can opener, awl, saw. There’s not much that can’t be accomplished with those, whether it’s around the house, on the job, or in the woods.
One-Hand Trekker ($68)
Unfamiliar to those who know only the traditional oblong SAK patterns, the larger (111mm) Victorinox line has been around since 1987. Most models (though not all) feature a locking half-serrated blade with a Spyderco-esque thumbhole that allows it to be opened with one hand.
Tools mirror those found on the Farmer, with the addition of a Phillips screwdriver and, if it matters to you, toothpick and tweezers. It’s an extremely useful setup. Anyone who contends that the Trekker is an ideal bushcraft or SHTF pocketknife would get no argument from me.
Safari Solo (discontinued)
North American readers can be forgiven for not recognizing or remembering this style of Swiss Army knife. It appeared in the 1970s with the proposed design for a German Army knife, ultimately yielded a half-dozen civilian models, and vanished from the Victorinox catalog in 2003.
The Safari series was the first SAK to use nylon scales and the first to incorporate a lanyard hole. Though sales didn’t justify them remaining in the line, today these 108mm models have a cult following.
The Solo, as the name indicates, has only the single spear-point blade. The backspring is uncharacteristically strong for a Victorinox. It’s a stout, simple knife that I truly love carrying.
As an aside, I bought this Solo (pictured) on eBay in the ’90s for $30, as I recall. It impressed me enough that when I learned that the Safaris would be discontinued, I bought two more ($35 each at that point) and put them away.
I checked eBay this morning, out of curiosity — the going rate for a “pre-owned” Safari Solo, depending on condition, is between $110 and $200. I mean, it’s a great knife, but it’s not that great.
If you can steal a new one for $40 or less, though, go for it.
As for my other three favorite SAKs, they’re still available brand-new. The prices I listed are from Amazon, for each knife in standard trim — the Fieldmaster in red Celidor, the Farmer in silver Alox, and the OHT in black nylon.
Other colors can be had and, new or used, can be significantly pricier. Some of the more unusual variants have to be sourced from European sellers.
But color doesn’t affect function. These knives have earned a place on my list because they work. If that’s enough for you, save your money.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB