Why Mora is simply ace

Today, a parcel from Sweden arrived. With a good old thing in it, an old Frost's Mora knife, one with the old laminate steel and an early plastic sheath, maybe from the 50s or 60s.  

Now I certainly do not need to lose a lot of words about Moras as such, but it was somewhat of another eye-opener again.  Moras are made to be tools for house, garden and the wilderness.  I mean, real wilderness, not forest economy parks. They have been used by people for expeditions worldwide and came out begging for more.  Which doesn't come as a surprise, because an expedition might take a year or maybe two at most, but they were "designed" for years and years and decades of farm use. I set that "designed" into quotation marks, well, because I am not quite sure if you can talk about a conscious act at all. If you need to find roots of the design, you might be not too far off with Frost-Erik Ericsson, who, after working four years in the US as a lumberjack, returned home to his hometown in Sweden in 1891. There, he founded a fabrication of timber wedges, axes, sledges and knives for the use in the forests. 

 ( https://morakniv.se/en/this-is-morakniv/our-history/ is a really good read about Mora's history ) 

And if we are quite honest to ourselves, even as accomplished "bushcrafters", we cannot even imagine the level of skill these lumberjacks possessed.  I obviously do not mean any offence by that, since I explicitly do not exclude myself from that.  We do not even know most of the things they did even around the homestead. They could built an entire farm only with an axe, a saw, some other tools and a knife, and fact is, they did. Scandinavian museums are full of artifacts they made that way.  If you want to get an idea of what actual "bushcraft" looks like you  might want to watch this vid: https://youtu.be/FtHyqcwWVPs?si=-q7MFUXWCfi-87yf 

It is original footage from the beginning of the 20th century, recorded in Finland to keep these skills alive. This must have been, more or less, the stuff Frost-Erik Ericsson had to do with a knife as a lumberjack on a daily basis.  It was that commonplace that noone would even had mentioned it.  He might have been using some kind of Puukko or other utility knife, and might have developed his own ideas what his knife should or should not do.  If you look at Scandinavian knives from that time period, you see that they are all quite similar.  This is not altogether surprising, of course.  For one, the founders of the knife industries in Mora were all more or less related, and have, in spite of competition, always maintained friendly relations.  Second, if you really use your knives for that kind of work, there is something nearing an ideal form to accomplish function.  For instance, the handle of the Mora is comfortable in all basic Slöjd hand positions.  Look at this series to get my meaning: 

So, maybe it is not quite correct to talk about a design, as in something someone came up with, but more of the product of an evolutionary process.  

As I said, Moras are made to be tools, to be used and, sometimes, abused. In the Mora knife community, there is a thing we all know, the so-called "barn Moras". Typically found in some shed or barn, often with big dents and hammer marks on the spine, a lot of them rusted and dirty and neglected.  

The one I got is one of the better ones, but it was no exception.  Part of the tip was missing, and the tip was deeply rust-pitted and had some dents, albeit no big ones. 

Thing is, I wasn't in a good mood, and to be honest, a bit disappointed. But since I did not spend a huge amount of money on the knife, I thought, well, the milk's spilled anyway, why not try out something if it is that fooqued oop anyway? So I went to our pile of beautiful rocks and picked a sandstone, poured myself a cuppa coffee and used that rock to grind away. 

One cuppa later, the tip was restored. Most of the worst pitting was gone, and the biggest dents removed.  With some random sandstone.  
 

I brought out the water stones then and started to work on the blade in earnest.  But fact is, the blade already cut alright after sharpening with a rock.  Some freaking random rock. 

I gave it some love with a Japanese water stone up to 3000 grit. 

After that, I refined the spine line, putting a 90°angle on it in the process. 

Without any stropping yet, it now makes lovely curls already, but is in no way maxed out in terms of sharpness.  I will also give the handle some love, too, and a new paint job. Maybe a leather sheath, too.  

What I want to say is, well, I fell for those heebie jeebie magical sorcery knives that make you survive just by carrying them, too.  I fell for that batoning scam, too.  Even if you have read about my stance on the difference between bushcraft and survival on this blog countless times, well, I am not a stranger to being a fashion victim myself.  And it is and was always fun to try out a cool new knife.  And feeling yourself like some tough guy.  

But fact is, what we think is bushcraft is but a very shallow pond.  I do not feel too disgraced and humbled by those old conkers in the Finnish video I shared. Instead, it is sort of a fascinating discovery and a great opportunity to learn. 

Moras have always been about sustainability and resource-efficiency, ingenuity and skill, assets that will come in extremely handy in our near future.  Not because of some SHTF scenario necessarily, but because they always were.  To rediscover those skills is not only a grave matter of survival, but something far deeper.  It really brings joy and the feeling that you can make do in a lot of situations.  It is no wonder that neo-colonialism and neo-imperialism isn't too fond of tools and crafts. But apart from political musings, ramblings and rants, a Mora is not the next big thing.  It isn't something fashionable or exciting. It is not made from some spaceship material.  

But it is something that somehow has grown into its shape for hundreds of years, slowly and steadily and humbly.  It is more of a natural thing, if that could possibly be in the first.  

But it is the same tool those old jätkän used. Means, if you copy what they did, you can safely say you messed up if you don't succeed. 😉😜

Anyway, I really enjoy the journey of this knife, its history, and look forward to the Slöjd I will try to learn with it.  

Take care, and enjoy yourself on the journey! 

Impressions from Karesuando

Gabriele has done me a great favour when she wrote me a mail the other day. She had been to Karesuando and wrote about her adventures there.

 

Obviously, her first impressions were those from the window of the plane: And Lapland was there, wide and clad in a mantle of snow.

 

 

And, as seems to be customary, Lapland welcomed her with open arms. This is a snöljus, a snow pyramid with teacandles inside for a welcome. She then visited the factory of Karesuando Kniven to watch the people craft those knives that are in use all over the world and to make her own.

 

 

Those knives I have talked about in a most recent post, and while I am not all agreed with everything they do there is no mistaking the fact that they are great and refined tools. Gabriele made her own at the factory and gave me some impressions about how those tools are made.

The raw material for the handles is curly birch from the region. I personally like the fact very much that all materials come from the region, or at least from Finland and Sweden (steel), guaranteeing a low ecological impact. Hats off to this corporation. The wood has a far higher density than comparable birchwood burr from Middle Europe, because of the hard circumstances in which those trees grow. This in turn makes it less prone to working loose, even if there is only a short tang inside.

The handles are fitted to the tang with a tight fit and then ground to shape.

This is Gabriele finishing the handle of her knife with a mixture of turpentine and oil, making it resistant to weather and dirt, but not giving the handle that "dead" feel a laquer often gives. This is a very traditional approach making the handle more serviceable, while not requiring too much of it.

As you can see, much of the work in building the knife is actually made by hand. Here apparently the bolsters are fitted and blades are prepared.

All this handiwork results in knives like the Järven model... I personally love this one very much.

 This is the Galten model. We will learn where the reindeer antler comes from soon;-).

This is "the boss";-), Per Erik Niva. Per-Eric manages the corporation and, having met him in person, I can safely say he´s a nice guy to boot.

 Gabriele in full "battle mode", out with a snowmobile. I am a bit envious of this experience... I guess it must be a great experience being out there in the beautiful landscape with a "big girl´s" toy...

 She also told me of a reindeer herding that took place when she was there. Reindeer still mean a lot to the Saami in the vicinity, even though they can no longer live the nomadic life of their ancestors. They are even forced by the government to sell and butcher their herdes "by decree". We Middle Europeans tend to regard Sweden and Scandinavian countries in general as a kind of social paradise, and while it is true that we can learn a lot from Scandinavian contemporary culture, be it educational, social or integration programs, all´s not grand in wonderland. And in my opinion we could learn a lot more from Saami culture, and I would go as far as stating that they might have a lot of insight that might even solve our ecological problems. For it is not only necessary that we learn the rational aspects about nature. We need a new natural lifestyle, including emotional and spiritual aspects as well. Learning includes learning a new respect for their culture. It is not possible to just take what we need from them, but we have to learn how to respect in the first, before we could even ask.

 Anyway, she provided me with these wonderful photos of the renrajd. The reindeer live half-wild most of the season. For the marking and butchering, they are herded together.

 This is normally done in winter, when they are relatively tame.

 This is Sara, reindeer breeder and Karesuando kniven employee taming a reindeer for marking out. Sara spontaneously invited Gabriele into her site caravan for coffee and delicious bread with reindeer sausage and a very heartful chat. Lapland is very welcoming, as it seems! Gabriele wrote it so envisioning that I felt the urge to get there one day.

 The herding is arduous and not exactly very easy work, potentially dangerous, too. No sissies here!

By the way, the antler is of course also used in the Karesuando knives.

As a conclusion, I can say that Gabriele´s mail made me crave for more. It is a fascinating region, and the slöjd and culture of the Saami even more so. I hope Gabriele will provide me with more correspondence about the factory and, especially, Sápmi culture.

I want to offer her my heartfelt thanks about the exclusive insight and wish her many more of these wonderful experiences!