Christmas Gifts for the Woodsman in Your Life

I'm an unapologetic Christmas and gift-giving enthusiast, especially for other outdoor folk. Every year several outdoor publications produce gift guides for sportsman and they vary in quality. If you are shopping for someone who spends a lot of time afield, allow me to offer a few suggestions.

Original Stormy Kromer Cap - $45



https://www.stormykromer.com/the-original-stormy-kromer-cap/

This hat is handsome, functional, and warm. It might have a little too much personality for some, but a cap in old-school red/black plaid is a real looker. If your gift recipient is a big game hunter, pick the blaze version and they are guaranteed to use it every year.


Muck Boot Company Edgewater II - $100



https://www.muckbootcompany.com/collections/tall-boots/products/mens-edgewater-ii-tall-boots-brown

These are great boots for trudging through the snow, muddy fields, or a barnyard. Extremely waterproof, warm, just watch out for barbed wire fences.


Carhartt Chore Coat - $80

https://www.carhartt.com/products/carhartt-mens-outerwear-big-tall/Duck-Chore-Coat-Blanket-Lined-C001

Universal ranch attire. If I had a dime for every deer killed by someone wearing a Carhartt Chore Coat I'd buy many more Carhartt Chore Coats.


Case Mini Finn Hunter Knife -$40



https://caseknives.com/products/leather-mini-finn-hunter-w-leather-sheath


I have carried a version of this knife for well over a decade. I own a lot of hunting knives and this is consistently the most useful pattern. It is perfect for small game and performs big game skinning tasks admirably as well.


Mora Companion - $12


https://morakniv.se/en/product/companion/

This is the best value in the knife world. Period. Full stop. The fit and finish is not great but the 12CR27 steel takes a wicked edge and hones miraculously on a ceramic rod. They can occasionally be found on Amazon for $8. When that sale happens you should buy them by the gross.


2Hawks Woodsman Tomahawk - $125



http://www.2hawks.net/tomahawks/woodsman

I am lucky enough to have a friend who gave me this tomahawk for Christmas several years ago. Since that time I have used it to butcher deer, build brush blinds, set up a tent, and cut enough saplings to build a makeshift road so that I could get my gutless, non-4x4 truck out of a boggy public hunting area. These are gorgeous, functional items.


Frost River Shell Bag - $65



https://www.frostriver.com/shell-bag/

People may call this a man purse or 'murse'---those people have never rambled the countryside with a scattergun in pursuit of game and adventure. These are honest-to-goodness made in Duluth, MN and are invaluable as a lightweight tote. I've filled these with 12 gauge shells, flyfishing gear, persimmons, handguns, and mushrooms.


Messermeister 5 Pocket Padded Knife Bag - $20



https://www.messermeister.com/collections/knife-luggage/products/5-pocket-black-padded-knife-bag-2066-5b

I love this handy knife roll for storing my butchering tools. If I go on a trip, my Messermeister is always in the truck.


Suunto M-9 Wrist Compass - $25



https://www.suunto.com/en-us/Products/Compasses/Suunto-M-9-Black-Black-NH-with-velcro-strap/

I always forget to pack a compass, but this one can be on your person or strapped to a pack with little aforethought. This compass has 'sights' for shooting landmarks and glows in the dark after brief exposure to light.


Petzl Tikka Headlamp - $30



https://www.petzl.com/US/en/sport/classic-headlamps/tikka

In the outdoors headlamps trump flashlights every time. Whether you are working on a knot or gutting a deer you need both of your hands---and no---clenching a Maglite in your mouth does not work well enough. The red light mode does not spook game and is excellent for walking into your hunting area.


Simply Rugged Real Man's Belt - $50



https://www.simplyrugged.com/ecommerce/Real-Man-s-Gun-Belt-Single-Layer-of-Leather.cfm?item_id=171&parent=670

This is quite simply the best belt I have ever owned. I wear one every day and I don't foresee the need to ever purchase a different belt from someone else. This belt works equally well for dress wear or concealed carry.


Buck, Buck, Moose by Hank Shaw - $22



Hank Shaw is arguably the best wild game chef living today. I've had the pleasure of attending two of his cooking seminars and I walked away enriched both times. This book features some of my most favorite recipes of all time: Venison with Cumberland Sauce and Venison Steak Diane. If you decide to purchase a copy of this book, please do it directly from Hank at scrbblr@hotmail.com. By doing this you'll put more cash in the author's hands.

Still Hunting: A Higher Art – Part I

 

Everyone has their own opinions when comes to the best way to hunt whitetails. Factors that dictate this include which methods prevail in the region where you are hunting, the distinct deer hunting subculture in which you were forged, and on what is effective in bringing game to the table. Folks in south Texas bang antlers, the deep south has a history of hunting with hounds, westerners glass to set up a stalk, Midwesterners post up in frozen treestands, and the bigwoods hunters of the northeast have made a name for themselves as trackers.  Each one of these traditions is rich with history and has its droves of acolytes—faithful for reasons of nostalgia as much as anything else.

As for me, I am a still hunter. Still hunting isn’t quite a lost art, especially in the traditional archery community. But, it is probably the least successful tactic of those previously referenced. Still hunting requires us to disassociate ourselves with every modern, hard-wired habit. Instead of waltzing noisily across the landscape, the still hunter moves through prime territory at the pace of an unfurling curtain of fog. Instead of relying on technological solutions to the challenges we face, the still hunter pares his kit down to only the most crucial elements. Put simply, the still hunter moves through the environment like a natural predator.

This is where the average hunter finds failure in the approach. He or she often doesn’t know how to move in the woods in a manner that doesn’t send every squirrel to a chattering perch and every jay to a cacophony of warning. Collectively we are guilty of moving too often and too quickly. Still hunting at the rate of a leisurely stroll isn’t still hunting: it is a one-man deer drive. Good luck shooting at those bounding deer as they disappear over yon hillock! In truth, much has been made about how we locomote but I’m not sure any of it is useful. Do you step heel-to-toe? Toe-to-heel? If the conditions are wrong then it doesn’t matter. A forest floor of dry leaves is going to betray your location immediately. This is why still hunting is optimal in conditions that are often suboptimal for other tactics: rainfall, wind, snow. Each of these elements can help mask your approach, reveal deer sign, or both. Because of this, I often reserve still hunting for when the conditions and location merit it.

If there is a key to still hunting it is pace. My old axiom was to take a step and wait one-to-two minutes before the next step in ideal territory. That doesn’t sound like a long duration, but bring a stopwatch with you sometime and you’ll realize that two minutes can feel like an eternity. When the quarry is close at hand this rate slows dramatically and I will often crouch or go prone for an indefinite period if there is the possibility that the game will come to me. Always better for the quarry to move than for you to move. Movement is often the source of a hunt’s ruination, but sound can be as well. To correct a misstep or a branch slapping against me noisily I force myself to pay penance.

It goes like this. When I clumsily snap a stick underfoot I consider myself to have violated the peace of the landscape. Were I to do this amidst a congregation of forest denizens they would immediately take offense as if insulted their closest kin. Although their reaction is in actuality a response of fear, I treat it as a response of indignation. Thus, my violation of the peace requires penance. My penance is to then halt, take stock of myself, assess my surroundings, and contemplate my sins. Applied, this means that I immediately slow my progress. Instead of a one-to-two minute pause I may take a four-to-five minute pause or longer depending on the severity of my transgression. During this time, I plan my route, scrutinize the environs for game, attempt to identify any surrounding trees, and focus on restorative breathing. This allows the woods to settle and for me to make more educated decisions. Often this is the time when game chooses to reveal itself. When this happens the art of still hunting seems nothing short of mystic. It is as if you conjured the creature by your solemnity, quietness, and belonging in the natural world. 

Such was the case for me last Saturday. My state offered a three-day antlerless rifle season in early October that allows a person to go afield with gun in hand in during the first blush of autumn—not during the harsh December conditions of the regular season. My initial plan was to set up at the base of an oak overlooking a meandering creek bottom where I had jumped several deer over the summer while looking for lobster mushrooms. This was not to be. Friday night was an endless stream of rain and Saturday morning was loudly pronounced by rolling thunderstorms. I stayed up until about 1:00 AM refreshing the National Weather Service’s website, but the forecast was resolute. Being sane, I opted instead to drink coffee, eat biscuits and gravy, and read one of Bill Heavey’s excellent books at the local Perkin’s restaurant.

I arrived at my hunting location around 10:30 AM when the thunderstorms had metamorphosed into intermittent showers. After cranking the magnification of my scope on the .338 to 3x I crossed a broad hayfield and entered the well-worn trail that paralleled the creek bed I had previously intended to hunt. Here I swore an oath: I will still hunt the RIGHT way and I will not rush it. Perhaps surprisingly, I maintained my fidelity. After an hour-and-half or so of furtive and calculating advancement I cut fresh tracks in the mud. They looked to be of a smallish deer, probably a young doe. This is exactly what I was pursuing. As I contemplated the tracks and considered the flora around me (black oak, elm, honey locust, red cedar, hickory, Japanese holly, buckbrush) I became aware of the slightest disturbance to my right. The low-growing buckbrush was rapidly parting as an utterly silent coyote rushed at me headlong. The oblivious prairie wolf yielded within spitting distance: certainly no more than five yards away. We then momentarily locked eyes and I read this in them: “What in tarnation!?” The coyote then wheeled and ran like the proverbial scalded dog. This was the closest I had ever been to a living coyote and I was actively hunting, clad from head-to-toe in blaze orange. Proper still hunting is sorcery.

 

Good Medicine

By the 29^th of November, 2017 I had already been deer hunting hard for twelve days. On the first day that I was able to take rifle in hand I met with a wide 7 pt. whitetail buck amidst roaring winds in Oklahoma’s Northern Crosstimbers. This was the first time that I had shot a truly mature buck on opening day since 2013. Yet, satisfied as I was with this harvest, I was not about to recline by the stove just yet. I was determined to stock the freezer with deer—even if it took hunting hard in two states. Though the first deer came easy, the second proved a greater challenge. Several hundred miles north, I had hunted riverbottoms, oak ridges, and bare-dirt fields with no sight of deer. All of this had been done on dearly-earned vacation days too. Then, on Thursday, the 29^th the nature of my fortune seemed to shift on the wind.

For the evening hunt, I settled on a public hunting area where I had success a few years prior—hoping beyond hope that it had not already been occupied by a blaze orange army of public land hunters. To my surprise, it had not. The frontage of this property was a cut cornfield nearly a half mile deep, which bordered thick timber. I intended to hunt a bottom where I had placed a ladder stand the year before, but my initial survey of the landscape revealed that although the cornfield had long-since been cut, there were two remaining patches of standing corn separated by a mowed channel approximately 50 yards across. I slinked several feet into the woods, bracing against a large oak, and proceeded to weave pliable saplings into a sort of makeshift cross-fence in front of me. I sat at this location for approximately 30 minutes, just long enough for the woods to settle, when I became aware of the din of machinery. “What on God’s green earth is that?”, I thought to myself. Then it hit me—the sound was coming from farm equipment. Caddy-corner from my location and under a mile away was another corn field. It sounded like this one was just now being cut.

Abandoning my brush blind, I took long strides back to my truck with full intent on pre-empting the imagined droves of deer that were hearing the very same corn harvest that was. A farm crew of an unexpectedly high number of pickups, semis, and combines were buzzing around the scene like so many bees. As I hoofed it into the area another semi came up behind me and I couldn’t help but give a sheepish grin when the driver waved at me, bedecked like some sort of gargantuan day-glo orange pumpkin. But, they all knew what I was about. I quickly positioned myself away from the ongoing work and facing a safe shooting zone amidst the double row of standing corn that is often left when public land agricultural fields are harvested.

As the work tapered off and the crew began to head home, animal life seemed to manifest itself from thin air. Birds of all manner descended on the field in cackling, scratching, squadrons. There was so much crop residue on the ground that they had a veritable cornucopia all for the picking. As soon as the last truck pulled away I heard a decidedly mammalian rustling behind me. My back was to a slim finger of timber that separated two forks of the field and I couldn’t believe that something larger than a squirrel had waited out all of the whirring, smoking Fords and John Deeres. But, there it was again—the distinctive rustling of corn stalks just behind me! It was in the worst possible position. I had expected the deer to emerge about 200 yards in front of me and browse towards me; I was in no position to take a shot behind with the .338 rifle laid upon my lap. Instead, as a rustling grew louder, I eased my .44 revolver from the pancake holster on my right hip and prepared to take a one-handed, gunfighter-style shot at the approaching deer.

 No such thing happened. As I craned my neck to the right I immediately saw the bushy tail of Canis latrans—the coyote. Coyote and I have come to a little bit of understanding as of late and I’m a bit less prejudiced against him than I was once was (thanks in no small part to Dan Flores’ excellent book American Coyote). Perhaps more importantly, I was not about to ruin what could turn out to be my last best chance. As he sauntered away obliviously I knew that we had reached magic hour. If you’ve spent much time deer hunting you know exactly what I am talking about. Magic hour is the period of last light approximately 30 minutes before sunset to 30 minutes after sunset. Deer, being crepuscular animals, often move about at this time.

Beyond magic hour, however, there was something special about the moment I was experiencing. It wasn’t just the combination of habitat, weather, and timing. It was medicine. Good medicine are those extraordinary moments and places where you are truly immersed in nature and get to see behind the veil. You are able to witness ongoings that seem either too private or too incredible to be experienced by ordinary people. In Tom Brown Jr’s biography Tracker, the conceptualization of medicine is laid out based on Tom’s world-class tracking and his instruction from Apache tracker Stalking Wolf:

Good medicine is any experience so memorable that it just has to be a gift from the spirit-that-moves-through all things. Good medicine announced its presence in marvelous sights, wondrous happenings. Good medicine was also any mystery, no matter how small, whose solution opened to larger, more wondrous mysteries

The cacophony of birds and the close encounter with coyote had me convinced that I was in the middle of good medicine. Yet, strain my eyes as I may in the fading light I was unable to make out the dancing forms of whitetails in the field. The oversized and glowing full moon gave them ample opportunity to wait for the cooler hours of night. I would not put knife to hide this day.

Sunday, December the third was another atypically balmy day for meteorological winter. I returned to the area around 3:30 PM after several hours of still-hunting a few miles down the road. Given that I had expected to shoot a deer resting against a blowdown I was packing an entirely different type of rifle: a Winchester 1885 in Theodore Roosevelt’s favorite .405 Winchester. It wouldn’t allow me to take a deer at 400 yards, but it would anchor a fleeing buck with authority. It was an atavistic arm to choose and being equipped with only iron sights it was probably foolhardy to take it on a public land hunt. But, I enjoyed carrying it and its charisma couldn’t be matched. I walked in with it and a much smaller ditty bag than usual. Instead of a frame-pack full of paraphernalia I simply had a leather belt slide full of .405 rounds that was made by my local leather shop and a waxed canvas parcel which included a headlamp, a spare knife, and surgical gloves. Something about a lighter kit is freeing. It makes you want to walk farther and hunt harder.

At the field’s margin I scanned the perimeter with my binoculars and noted for the first time a fresh-looking rub in a location that I had not hunted since 2015. Since the corn field was immense and I had no real way of knowing where the deer might emerge I figured that a setup near the rub would be as good as any. Thus, I wedged myself against a small cedar and began to wait. My view over the field was limited by the terrain to about 100 yards, but that was perfect for the old .405 rifle. Behind me another large corn field stretched for close to a half mile.

The first unexpected incident occurred when a very confused cottontail rabbit ran into my outstretched boot. It downright jolted me and I said “hey rabbit” far too loudly. At this point I thought that I had probably ruined my chances for a deer but sat it out nonetheless. About 4:50 PM (just the beginning of the magic hour) I turned to examine the field behind me and witnessed two deer walking into its cut rows. The deer were not yet aware of me and were about 100 yards away at this time. However, when I raised the rifle I was unable to make them out in the tang sight. I had not counted on the height of the surrounding prairie grass, which made accurate sighting impossible.

I decided to take a chance. I belly-crawled a few feet past the tallest grass and sat back up. One of the deer had obviously seen the movement and was leaving the scene with a small degree of discomfort. The other yet remained and I was able to place the big brass bead of a front sight on it before it departed. I remember nothing about the shot—neither the trigger breaking nor the heavy recoil lingers in my memory. Yet, the deer was down instantaneously and I rushed over to it, overcome with gladness and a sense of blessing for being able to live out this moment. As I field-dressed the deer and dragged out the half-mile back to my truck I couldn’t help but think that this place was good medicine indeed.

Foray List - 26 August 2017

Yellow Chanterelle

Cantharellus “cibarus”

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/cantharellus_cibarius.html

Lobster Mushroom

Hypomyces Lactifluorum

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/hypomyces_lactifluorum.html

Genus Russula, species unknown

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/russulas_cinerescent_rubescent.html

Genus Russula, species unknown #2

Genus Boletus, species unknown (detached from stem when found)

Reishi

Ganoderma sessile / Ganoderma lucidium

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/ganoderma_lucidum.html

Artist’s Conk

Ganoderma applanatnum

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/ganoderma_applanatum.html

Gemmed Puffball

Lycoperdon perlatum

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/lycoperdon_perlatum.html

Purple-Gilled Laccaria

Laccaria ochropurpurea

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/laccaria_ochropurpurea.html

No Common Name

Lactarius psammicola (low confidence)

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/lactarius_psammicola.html

False Turkey Tai (no photo)
Stereum ostrea

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/stereum_ostrea.html

Genus Xerula, Species Unknown

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/xeruloid.html

Short-Stemmed Russula

Russula brevipes

http://www.mushroomexpert.com/russula_brevipes.html

On Dutch Spinsters & Punching Nazis

Betsie and Corrie Ten Boom

I've often been told by people that I respect that they "don't believe in coincidence." There reaches a point where the confluence of 'coincidence' is just too great to accept; a person must then realize that these occurrences have real meaning and that a lesson is to be learned. I had this realization recently, as I considered the reporting on the tragic and sickening events in Charlottesville, VA . Back in early June I had the opportunity to spend a week in Charlottesville on business. I had looked forward to the trip for over a year, as I was would be able to check off a life-long dream of hiking Shenandoah National Park and also avoid traveling to D.C. (which despite its many fine qualities, is not for me). My Charlottesville experience was quite positive, though I spent more time hoofing it down the Appalachian Trail and looking for exciting fungi then I did soaking up the city itself. No doubt though, it had the veneer of southern culture that I relished: excellent food, friendly people, and a charming spirit of university town-meets mountains. Did I mention Bojangles? I still crave Bojangles! 

With Charlottesville fresh in my memory and having just finished two books on prison camps (Escape from Camp 14 by Blaine Harden and The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom) I was particularly enraptured by the coverage of the Neo-Nazi march and tragic death that occurred in C-Ville. Perhaps though, even if I had not had these experiences I would have been overwhelmed by the media frenzy surrounding the national tragedy. With the rise of the so-called Alt-Right there seems to have a tremendous body of social media and traditional media hubbub on the topic. This culminated in a 21 January 2017 New York Times piece by Liam Stack that asked the seemingly rhetorical question, Is it O.K. to Punch a Nazi?. A great nazi-punching volunteer brigade materialized out of nowhere overnight. Google Trends quantifies this emergence:

Now the spectre of Neo-Nazis is not relegated to the classic Blues Brothers (1980) bridge scene (caution *language*), it is a present reality in the heartland of America. In fact, in the two last cities in which I have lived I have seen posters for both the white supremacist group Identity Evropa and the oppositional movement, Antifa. Nazi-punching is now both an aspirational pastime for some and an internet trope for others. What then, should I do if confronted by a Nazi spectacle? The smart aleck in me, of course, would remark that the best solution would be to purchase “...the greatest battle implement ever devised,” an M1 Garand, if Nazis were making a comeback. Yet, that perspective changed dramatically after I concluded my reading of The Hiding Place.

The Hiding Place details the journey of a Dutch watch-making family prior to, and during, World War II. The opening scenes made me desperately want to travel to Holland, meet the people, and amble the quaint streets and markets. Yet, before the first few chapters were done I knew that this picturesque setting was bound to change. The Ten Boom family gradually becomes members of a rebellious underground that hides, serves, and loves all classes of undesireables. The book culminates in the discovery of this work and the subsequent time served at the Ravensbruk concentration camp. At Ravensbruk, two Dutch spinster sisters (Corrie and Betsie) go about not only sharing the Gospel with the inmates, but also with a series of administrators and German military officers. In particular, Betsie displays an amazing gift of forgiveness for the people that enslaved, tortured, and abused her. Her sister Corrie struggles with this act initially, despite knowing that it was in accordance to God’s direction. Nonetheless, after finally being released and making an arduous journey back to her home in Haarlem she opens her own house to the Dutch traitors who sided with the Germans and informed on the like of her family.

How can anyone but marvel at the dedication and faith of such an act? The Hiding Place was for me one of the rare books that deeply moves and fundamentally reshapes perspectives. While I have no doubt that my failings are so great as would cause me to balk in a similar circumstance, the lesson of the book is not in the power of people to do good, but in the power of God to do good through people.

As flawed people, we could not hope to muster such incredible grace on our own. God must be the progenitor of this virtue. He equips us to do this work through his Holy Spirit. What then, should we do to Nazis? We should do the same unto them as we should do to Kim Jong-un and Vladimir Putin; we should pray for them.

Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

Matthew 5:38-45 

Knife Review: Vehement Knives Wharncliffe EDC

Vehement Wharncliffe EDC and a Flush of Wood Ear

Since late June 2016 I’ve had a constant companion at my side: the Vehement Knives Wharncliffe EDC. I’ve long been a wharncliffe aficionado and wanted to give Vehement Knives’ rendition a try for quite some time. When Vehement Knives ran a very good sale in November 2016, I just couldn’t take it any more. This was to be my first custom knife! It also would mark the single most expensive knife that I had ever purchased and one that I would wait quite some time for. Was it worth it? Absolutely. My purpose here is to give my honest impression of the knife.

The Perfect Equipment for a Forest Excursion

Here are the basics:

Original Retail Price (Not on Sale) - $200

Steel – 154 CM

Composition of 154 CM is typically 1.05% Carbon, 0.35% Silicon, 13.50-14.00% Chromium, and 4.0% Molybdenum according to KnifeCenter.com. 154 CM is considered a good high carbon knife steel with excellent edge retention properties and decent corrosion resistance.

Blade Profile – Modified Wharncliffe

A traditional Wharncliffe blade features a flat cutting edge and a gently curving spine. Vehement Knives’ version actually has a slightly recurved blade, which makes it better for cuts involving a drawing or pulling motion, but performs less satisfactorily for chopping. This style of blade is particularly appropriate for defensive knife work.

Blade Length and Width – 3” cutting edge (as measured straight across) and 3/8” thick until the spine curvature begins

Handle Type and Material – Two piece canvas micarta scales (natural color), 3/4” across the handle

Construction – Unibody, with rear lanyard hole

Sheath – Custom kydex with Blade-Tech Tek-Lok

These basic facts can only tell you so much. Here is my subjective opinion regarding what the knife is good at:

Vehement Wharncliffe EDC and a Prime Yellow Chanterelle

FORAGING

Over the 7 months that I have been using the EDC I have enlisted it in a number of tasks. Some of these it was practically designed for—others were pretty unreasonable give the knife’s intent. To begin with, I have become somewhat of mushroom fancier as of late, a mycophile if you will. I’ve found that even when the fish aren’t biting and game is uncooperative you can traipse around the woods and finding interesting, often edible mushrooms. I’m glad to spend my leisure time this way! There is actually a considerable niche in the knife world for specialty mushroom knifes. Typically, these are characterized as folding knives with a deeply recurved blade (typically a hawk bill profile) that may or may not feature an integrated brush. The archetypical mushroom knife is produced by Opinel and features a wood handle and a locking collar. Opinel knives are classy, respected, and very continental. While these are all good things, I wanted a mushroom knife more suitable for an American outdoorsman. The Wharncliffe EDC fits this role exceedingly well. The curvature of the blade makes it perfect for precisely cutting mushroom stipes (like the Opinel) but you could also wield it fairly effectively as a defensive weapon (unlike the Opinel).

Opinel Mushroom Knife

PARING

From a culinary perspective, the Wharncliffe EDC also excels in peeling fruits and vegetables. I mentioned before that the recurved blade is good at pull-cutting---it really shows in the kitchen. In fact, if you were to examine the best samples of paring knives the blades would closely resemble that of the Wharncliffe EDC.

ROPE WORK

Most cordage is processed through a drawing motion and here the Wharncliffe reigns supreme. Folk tradition attributes the development of the Wharncliffe-style blade to sailor-folk. This makes logical sense on its face because of the need to prevent punctures on the rolling seas and the need to quickly cut rope. However, such claims regarding the development of the Wharncliffe seem tenuous, at best.

PRECISE CUTS

The fine tip of the Wharncliffe EDC and the pronounced choil mean that you can choke up on the knife and perform detail cuts with ease. Applications for this style of cutting range from scribing wood to remove a thorn from your finger-tip.

From Harvesting Mushrooms to Cleaning Squirrel

GENERAL OVERVIEW

My overall impression of the knife is that it is a robust, beautiful piece of functional artwork. The knife has been handy in day-to-day chores like opening boxes or obnoxious plastic packaging which I suspect is the primary duty for most everyday carry (EDC) blades. It is, however, unlike any knife in my personal collection (which has previously been largely dedicated to skinning or butchery). The only area that the Wharncliffe falls a bit short is in processing game. However, that is not flaw in the design, rather it is an issue with applying the wrong tool for the job. Nonetheless, I have incidentally taken small game (including rabbit and squirrel) while foraging and employed the knife successful in the skinning, gutting, and break-down of these critters.

Due to its small size, the knife can be easily concealed under an untucked shirt. Likewise, the short blade length (3”) means that the knife may be excluded from ‘dangerous weapon’ restrictions in some jurisdictions. Nonetheless it could likely be wielded as a formidable defensive tool if circumstances required such. My only hesitation in using the knife in this capacity is the brevity of the handle. Though  I don’t claim to be a defensive knife expert, I would prefer to see at least another 1” of handle space for better grip purchase. For those looking for a dedicated defensive wharncliffe, Vehement offers the fearsome Wharlock.

The included kydex sheath is the single best sheath I have owned. The knife fits in the sheath securely and comes out in a flash. The form-fitting kydex does not dull the blade upon withdrawal and the Tek-Lok provides complete adaptability. The fit and finish of the knife are very good overall. The high polish on the metalwork has remained very attractive despite hard use and exposure to occasional showers. I have oiled the knife infrequently and it has never developed any rust spots whatsoever. Edge retention on the knife has been good, but I do find edge touch-up to be a more difficult process with the knife’s recurved blade. Vehement typically recommends blade touch-up with a leather strop loaded with a honing compound.  

I would certainly consider myself a very satisfied customer of Vehement Knives. During my impatient waiting for the knife to be delivered, owners Matt and Jenna Martin were very gracious in answering my frequent (often annoying) questions. Vehement Knives was originally based in Longmont, Colorado but has since relocated to Gladstone, Michigan. Matt doesn’t appear to be accepting custom orders on his website due to backlog but you can purchase ready-made Vehement products from Knives Ship Free. Although it takes me a long time to save enough pennies to purchase a quality knife, I can’t help but think about some one-off Japanese-inspired blades that I have seen on the Vehement Knives Facebook page. Maybe one of these days...