A flaming autumn day´s ride, trail etiquette, cuppa tea and knife testing with a sundown as icing-perfect, I´ll take it.

 Yesterday, th sun was out and the day exploded with colours ever so vibrantly. I am currently depressed quite often, what with neither time nor money resulting in longtime "friends" taking their excuse, so to say, and grey weather in the bargain.

But one thing has always been certain to me: The woods are out there, and the spruce tops are singing in the wind. It was the first sound in my life I heard, for after I was born in hospital, I lived in the forest for 33 years. I think to remember opening my eyes from a sleep that was deeper than life, and awakening to the wonder of green, with the vibrantly green leaves and the dark green of the spruce and fir tops moving in a breeze. There were runes there I could not decipher, and of runes i knew not in the first place, but I was calm immediately and looked at the gently moving signs amazed. It is a world that has always embraced me, and it was never natural for me to live in a city, and all the roaring noise frightened me as a kid. Now, as someone who is seen as an adult;-), I know exactly why it frightened me. I overcame my fears and now there is but a mild pity left for the ways of modern day man, and, with a sense of self - irony I realize that I am part of the whole mess already. I have to, as anyone has to, at least to a certain degree, partake in the everyday madness.

And yet, the woods are waiting. They are not self - conscious. They just exist. They are not nice, and you might die there as well as live, and the trees and beasts could not care less. But if you really want to, you can become a part of it all, and all that will not matter any more. It is not important if you are "but" a newborn child or a grown individual, in fact, you stand more of a chance understanding it as a whole if you see it with the eyes of a newborn child. And since it is not possible to refer to that phenomenon intelligently, for it is autotelic, I will shut up about that for now and tell you about the ride.

 I rode towards the hills, and I was quite exhausted, but I carried on and made it into the woods.

 I was rewarded ever so richly with the flaming gold of a low sun in a crystal-blue sky. The air was cold and frisky, and every silhouette was standing out clear and sharp in this clean atmosphere. This space made me breathe deep and calm, and, even if the trail went uphill quite technically challenging, I managed without a dabbing of a foot. Then I saw two horseback riders approaching in the distance. Noticing one of the horses was rather shy, I pulled to the side of the trail to let them pass and waved them on. As they passed, we had a chat, and this chat turned out in a way chats like this unfortunately have a habit of turning out; both of them were quite amazed that I had let them pass and had some friendly words for them, for normally mountainbikers yell at them, slam into their horses (which is a most silly thing to do, for who wants to be confronted with a ton of whinnying, kicking, biting, half - mad horse must have but some three brain cells, and those situated in the Amygdala at best), find it funny to scream at the horses while passing at top speed from behind. I have to believe those two horseback riders (and the many others I have talked to, and I sometimes feel ashamed for my "fellow" mountainbike riders. Many are Testosterone-blind morons only interested in their own "fun", which mostly consists in putting the hurt to their "fellow" riders. In my time in the club I have encountered every facet of antisocial behavior, from slightly moron to outright dangerous, from relishing in hurting others up the hill to leaving injured riders with a wrecked bike in the middle of nowhere and laughing afterwards about that while telling the tale, to spooking horses and destroying private property just in the name of the almighty "fun". Those individuals are, in my book, retarded, anti - social, superficial arseholes. I have worked for trail access since 1990, I have worked for bettering the communication between the "user" groups of the woods, and, for the most part, have lived to the IMBA rule codex.

I took my trash home.
I controlled my speed.
I respected other trail users.
I avoided shortcuts and stuck to the trails.
I avoided offensive behavior such as yelling, skidding, and jumping at the encounter of other trail users.
I only modified trails with the permission of the land owner / the forest bureau or rebuilt the natural state after doing so.

Of course, there are morons amongst the other user groups as well, but, hey, if you do not communicate, you cannot better any situation. And if you behave like an asshole, you deserve to be treated as one, mountainbiker or not.

The culprit is, I had a chat with those two horseback riders, told them to address the website www.mtb-hagen.de in case they had one of those unfortunate encounters again, we wished each other to have a fine day and went on our merry way, content with the fact that we had done something good. Simple as that. And it does not mean you can´t have fun. I had. I took the next trail down the hill, and really let loose.

But, if you don´t know what brakes are for, you should not ride a bike. Period. I know, and if anyone asks, I will teach anyone, for free even if you ask politely enough.

But, as is my wont these days, shredding simply does not suffice all of the time. So I visited my oaken friend atop the hill overlooking that lake (I hope you appreciate I spared you another picture of the vista*ggg*). There, I had a cuppa tea (ten, in fact;-)), an apple and some bannock, and out came the bush knife for some testing.

 It´s the one I made in the Bethaus smithy the other day. I put a bevel on it (not that it needed it:-), take note I was proud:-/)

 I did a quick leather wrapping to the handle and it was ready to go.

 Spine thickness is about 6mm. The blade is 140 mm long, and made from selectively tempered spring steel that has seen some very conservative heat treating. It supports my weight. As a prybar, it´s a cinch!

 First came the prying test. I slammed it up to 1 cm into that log and levered the tip out-no damage whatsoever. In fact, I kicked it with my boots to pry it out. No harm done.

 Then I hacked halfway through that log. Then I realized that a cylindrical handle shape as with that knife is not feeling exactly right for that kind of task. Also, I blistered my hand on the sharp butt of the handle. Not so good. What was more grave is that it did not shave after that. But I forgot to test sharpness before, so it might as well be the bevel was not fine enough in the first place. I have to check it out encore un fois at home.

I leant the ride gainst a tree and snuck inside the stems of the three-stemmed oak...

 I sipped my tea and savoured the golden light and the fading warmth. Then I had the sensation of warmth radiating from the bark of the tree itself, and not only the energy it had stored from the light of the sun. It warmed me from my belly up, my heart as well as my head. I smiled, had another swig of tea and thanked the tree for its gift.

 It has been the source of many mocking, cynical remarks by many people I met, but, yes, I love trees. I love them as a piece of creation, as my fellow beings, and for no reason especially as well.

 In the depth of the bark, there were tiny ants squirrelling along, and in the cold autumn air some few midgets were dancing their strange dances, their wings translucent with flaming, golden light.

 There are worlds inside worlds, worlds above, inside and neighbouring, life everywhere even in the autumn, even in winter. Life itself is wonderful and deserves better than the ridiculous mess humans make of it.

I then really enjoyed practicing my feather stick skills with my new Nessie. It makes some really delicate shavings. It feels light and nimble. Not a knife for hacking, though, even if batoning works quite well, too. There are better whittlers, too, due to the offset of the edge line, but you can grow accustomed to that. I think I´ll make more like this...

 Then the sun was sinking, and I relished in the vibrating colours.

 I put my headlamp on and made for the trail home. By the way, I was on the road with the last shred of light. I have, of course, done rides where I could not avoid being in the forest after dark with a torchlight on, but doing so scares the animals, who need all the rest they can get in winter. So please, if you have any sense in you, do not ride at max speed with max headlight on through the woods. Going silently and unlighted is another matter, if you can do so, or, if you must, stick to fireroads that are also widely frequented during the day. That way, animals can grow accustomed to your impact and do not panic all the time.

 Overlooking the hills of home with the last shred of light.

It was a beautiful day, and a solemn calm filling me up to the brim. Of course, all the peace in my heart did wear off suddenly with my next encounter with the next urban human, but that´s another story, and it´s not worth telling at all.

The light, however, and the energy of the trees, are mine. And noone can ever take it from me.

New Leaf -handle blades

 I finished those two knives the other day and thought I´d give you some decent pics. Both are made from spring steel, with a selective temper. This one is more of an utility design. 110 x 5 mm, edge quenched.

 The backside.

 The leaf I forged with the peen of a small locksmith´s hammer.

 This is more of a kopis design. I love to make these for the flowing lines they have, and they really feel good and dynamic when cutting. They are also great for foraging herbs and green food. Removing bark from a stick also is quite a cinch.

 I have tested this one to an extreme defree already: It supports my weight, and I´m fat!;-)

 The backside.

And the leaf. I also like the fact that they are ready to use when the forging´s done. And for an all - metal design, they are very comfortable to hold onto. They simply work, and work great even when the going gets tough. So I will make more of them...*ggg*

New Nessie design

 I was feeling inspired by my mountain man bushcraft as well as the "Flachschmieder" by Rudolph Broch, one of those people I have learned a lot from, so, when I was at the last Hammer - In of the season, I made this blade out of spring steel. 110 mm long, the spine is 5 mm thick, and the knife has seen little stock removal as is and no power tools except for drilling the holes for the tang. I will keep working on that, too;-). The handle is made from sambar stag antler I found on a flea market, wait, is that 8 years? 8 years ago;-) it is indeed, and I am an old fart!*ggg*. I really like this material a lot for its amber colour. The pins are made from copper tube. With a length of Paracord you can fix it to a stick to harvest apples, plums or herbs normally out of reach. To me, the handle is comfortable, and I like the slightly offset edge for cutting on a level, as when snacking with a wooden board. In spite of the chunky spine thickness, it really cuts well and even works great in the kitchen. Chopping onions, slicing salami and bacon are a cinch, really. I guess it has something to do with the fact that it has no secondary bevel, and the little convex part there is is virtually non-existent. It is edge - quenched, though, and I already slammed it into a mild steel bar and unmounted a tin can;-) with it, with no dents whatsoever.

 The spine. The tang will see some filing still.

I also made a simple sheath already. Wet - formed around the handle, and hot - waxed to give a firm base, almost like Kydex! (not that this would be a good thing, mind you*ggg*.

As is, I like it. It will see some refining and polishing the edge, and then I will be in for some interesting testing again.*ggg*

Oh violent twilight, where iron hides alone!:-)

 I was feeling extremely down the other day. I am always fighting and fighting and all the fighting starts to wear down on me, and simple as that, the weather is dark and rainy most of the time. And I work hard for nearly nothing, and where other people get a place in society, deserved or undeserved is not for me to object, I seem always on the edge. No, I am not complaining. It´s my choice, after all, and it´s a good life. What I want to say is just that I start to feel weary. Many people come to me for counsil, and I try to help them as best as I can. Many people thusly feed on my energy, and if I have none to spare, they are offended. Plus, many of them seem to get out of one mess simply to set out creating a new one by offending and hurting all around them like a ravenous rabbit.:-)

NOW I am whining, see;-) (whimperwhimperfünününü)... but I resolved to do something about my foul mood... and what to do? I hitched the bus and rode out to the hills, and did a hike to a lost place. And it is funny, as soon you enter the woods, it is an altogether different world you enter, even if those woods are domesticated. But it is always as if you cross a border into the other world, and the other world seems to be more in touch with our reality in the forest.

 Bitter thoughts left me as soon as I took my first steps on the trail. I enjoyed a scenery, dark, and yet soothing in the dark green and the vibrant colours of a leaving autumn, which will soon be replaced by the winter´s dominion. The trees seem to burn with the last remnants of colour, and every iota of life force seems to stem up from the roots, embedded deep into the ground. And towards the roots I went in my mind and my soul.

 Now this lost place was a former industrial site, and presumeably occupied by metalworkers since the early middle ages. There are so - called "Sinnerhoopen" ( heaps of sinter, slag heaps ) everywhere near the creeks.

 Like this slag I found beneath the roots of the tree, by the swift and musical creek. All was silent, and mists arose from the hills. And I thought of how those spirits of the land were once called "Niflungar" or "Nibelungen", which literally translates as "folk of the mists", around these parts.

 Long have the ruins been claimed back by the forest´s twilight, gentle and violent, and roots entangle the once proud industrial workshops. Their noise is all spent, exhausted and gone; the walls crumble under the force of the land. Roots like time itself claw at the heart of the hubris of man, mercilessly eating away at manmade marvels that our kind deems eternal.

 Along the tracks of an ancient abandoned small-rail line I found this railroad spike. Since the site was abandoned after WW II and established far earlier, I hope it could be crucible steel.

 On I walked, with but the silence for a companion, and as the day drew to a close, darkness fell. And with it came the force of twilight.

 It lent a blueish tint to everything around, and then, growing ever so much darker, the woods embraced the night that was to come. I walked on, alone on the darkness, carrying no light, for light I needed not, wanted not.

 On a fallen log I sat, contemplating and having a cuppa tea, and my spirit fell into the embrace of the spirit of the trees.

 It is not warm nor comfortable. It is not hostile, either. It simply is. This, I have always found to have a soothing effect on my mind. And while it takes all you can give, it also gives all you can take in turn.

 Darker it grew, and darkness has always been conceived as Evil by man. But the woods do not regard anything. There is night. There is day. That is all there is to say.

 Faintly, in the far distance, I saw the light pollution of the city shining, screaming, raving, tearing at the sky, but not here, not in the dark realm of twilight.

 Where the trees come to life with voices so manyfold and yet they hold no answers and pose no questions. This is the true power behind any magic. This is the force of the land springing to life in the twilight, wafting with the mists through the cool air. I was confronted with my fears and hopes when I saw all those shifting shapes. Was that a movement over there? A wild boar? I imagined I could see it, standing afore a blue light of vague intensity, a wild boar of a race long bygone, with a mane of bristles so thick and strong they sliced the air like a knife, and with a fire in his eyes that told of an unseen force below the roots of trees, below the secret mycelium of the force of the land. And as I received this image, I found a bone for a knife handle.

Amazed, I rounded the bend, and high above the valley I stood for a moment, contemplating. There was a stream of noise from the traffic going on down there, and lights blared up to the blueish twilight sky as if to defy it. And the roaring, screaming noise suddenly seemed ever so small and helpless. I stood there, and suddenly I had the sensation of belonging, not into the pitiful, roaring world below, but into this realm of twilight. Into the realm of the vision of that boar, and into the never-dimnishing ranks of the Niflungar´s host.

But then, I am a human, and even now, by writing this,  I roar my defiance to the sky, as do wolves when they howl. "I am! Look! I am! I live!" 

Thus I return into the world of man, forging another knife out of the gifts of the other world, forging another story out of steel and bone and twilight, for this, truly, is what I am:

An existence of both worlds.

Another day in the smithy-some musings on steel qualities and how to forge a Tai - Goo - style bush knife..

 On Tuesday, Istopped by the Bethaus smithy do do some projects for myself. First and foremostly, I had that urge again to do another bush knife;-), but I also tempered the leaf handled Kopis knife I made on Sunday, and a Nessmuk design knife with a flat tang. Then I took the uppermost piece of spring steel and set out to forge a hollow tang bush knife after Tai Goo.

 First I forged the blade part and set it to be about half the width of the handle part. A tip was then forged.

 Then the tang part was flattened, and, with the help of a hardy device, rolled onto itself. You can also use a vice with the jaws slightly apart. Use the peen of the hammer to do the preform. Then you can use the anvil´s surface to roll it onto itself. Be careful to execute the same number of blows on both sides.

 Then the blade was forged, and at the end of the handle a hook was formed to prevent a wrapping from sliding off, the handle being not conical. The blade itself was forged to edge. This knife was already ready to use after forging with no stock removal, and no, I am NOT going to tell you how I did it;-). There was clay involved, so much I can say;-).

The knife will get a ground edge surface, though, to enhance the geometry and get rid of some irregularities in the edge line, though. The blade has a selective temper.

Now to the steel: I find I use spring steel ever more often, in fact, I realize that there is all you need in this steel for bushcraft and hard use applications. It simply works. I have thought about that. The spring steel I use ranges from a carbon content between 0,55-0,80%, with manganese and slicium in the alloy, making it tougher, and maybe one or the other Chromium atom. It´s nothing compared to highly alloyed steels that are all the rage in the knifemaking world. D2 is an example I love to use to illustrate the fact. Known in Germany under the material cipher 1.2379, it is most commonly referred to as "tool steel", and most commonly used for stamping tools and cold and warm chisel tools. As the saying goes for knives out of that material, "they take a lousy edge but hold it forever". The high degree of alloy in this steel makes for vast carbides, nearly visible to the naked eye and resulting in a more coarse edge, almost like micro - serrations. For a hunting knife, this might even be an advantage, but for a bushcraft knife you want a fine edge. Woodcarving requires a polished edge surface to make controlled, powerful cuts manageable in a better way.

Spring steel, which is alloyed with Silicium, which, generally spoken, delivers a higher ductile strength and a higher flexibility, and manganese, which is also responsible for a higher flexibility and contributes to even out the carbides in the steel, is, while offering a tempering potential up to 61 degrees Rockwell after annealing, higly flexible, and makes, when treated the right way, for quite a tough blade. Plus, it is dead cheap and widely available. I really put my blades through their paces, and I hope one day they might pass the ABA test. I have worked with some fancy materials, and I get them to work quite often, even tested hard. But in an equation, I tend to return to spring steel more often than not, for, honestly, a knife has to be reliable and serviceable, especially in the woods.

For that, I have come to love those bush knives. They are dead simple, and that means little can go awry with them. No scales to come loose, no handle either, and you can even cover them up with makeshift cordage. They are widely used by indigenous cultures for a reason. You can use them for knife throwing or fit a stick into the hollow handle to make a spear. I have even harvested wild apples and plums and maple blossom that way. I already tested the knife some, for I was being curious, and it supports my weight when stuck in a wooden pole, and that´s a feat;-). A think a thorough test will follow soon...*ggg*
Try that with a 64 HRC D2 blade*ggg*.

Last Hammer-In of the Season in the Industriemuseum Ennepetal

 On Sunday it was that time of year again, and Willi and I met in the museum to have the last hammer-In of the museum season. I rode my bike to tha smithy, and was I motivated...? Not at all. But as is, my appetite for blackmithing grew with the work again...;-)

 Willi forged a Nessmuk blade out of some magic Wolfram steel;-). I look forward to the finished knife, bro!

 Our products on display. Willi had quite the assortment at hand, axes, hatchets, sickle, knives and tools and BBQ fork and pendants...

 I forged this leaf handled knife. Spring steel, 1 % stock removal, 110 mm x 4 mm recurve, spring steel with a selective temper (see another post!)

 The folks had a crucible roaring and a children´s program. It was quite busy in the hall...

 This is the hall. I really like those columns dating back to 1890 or so!

 Rainhard, the crucible master, makes those foxes... I have to get myself one, for I love foxes...*ggg*

 This is Rainhard´s wife selling those little goodies and books alike.

 The kids apparently had fun!

...and Willi does a new economic version of his pendant hatchets. C 45.

When I wanted to ride home, the sister of the head of museum stopped me in my tracks. Then followed a conversation like this:

"er... hullo, I want a word..."
"-yes, ma ´am?"
" Must you always make knives and tools?"
"We are knifemakers and bladesmiths, ma ´am, and we want to show that trade so that it does not die out completely. The museum knows that well."
"...but, I mean, can´t you do other work? I mean, hearts or pendants or snails or the like? Must you always make knives and tools?"
" Ma´am, as I said, we are here as knifemakers. We can also make anything else, provided we can use the smithy."
"You are there on the first Sunday! Can´t you produce pendants in this time, to sell for the museum?"
"We are involved in a demo and children´s program then."
"But you always make knives and tools!"
"Yes, ma´am, we are here as bladesmiths."
[insert a quarter of an hour of that type of conversation]

The culprit was, I agreed to make pendants just to get out into the rain. I was not overly enthused, for I work there without pay, since four years. It´s our own tools and forges in use for the museum. We pay gas and coal and material from our own money. No, I do not want to complain, for it´s fun. We get coffee and cake and sausage for free (after we fought for it), and the atmosphere amongst the smiths is really great. And, yap, we are bladesmiths. I love making knives, for to understand steel and the "name of iron" in heat treating, in forging and annealing and grinding and working with steel, wood, horn and antler, with copper, bronze, tin and leather is very broad and gives a vast room for my creativity. But it´s always the case in society: Stand out, and you shall be levelled out. I was half-mad with anger, but I choked my words and made for the trails home. As is customary for me, I stopped in the woods and took a deep breath.

Boy, am I glad I have a spare smithy to work in!

Rant over and out. I do not want to belittle the museum. They do a great job with little money, and there are a lot of friendly people around. Even that woman is a very nice person to boot, and I am not exactly angry with her personally. But that mindset is one I encounter ever so frequently, and it makes my life even more difficult. Even doing something for free and with enthusiasm does not warrant even that you can be left alone doing your work.

New Sarouel pants - for the woods indeed!!!*ggg*

It´s getting cooler, and I still wanted a Sarouel pants... so I made one from wool I had lying around for ages. I simply like this style of pants, not necessarily because of looks, but for the fact that they are comfy to boot. I still have to sew some pockets on...

New Birka style knife with handle...

I tried something new in this knife. The blade had been lying around for some time now. It is made from crucible steel I found in the woods, and I fitted a piece of stag antler into the handle, with no glue whatsoever. Blade´s 100x3 mm with a selective temper and a quench line. Was quite difficult to fit the piece into the handle, but I managed. And mistreating the knife, I can now say it can take quite a beating!

...like...*gg*