This quote from Sigurd Olson always seems right when a fellow gets a finely made traditional knife.....



I own an old Finnish knife or puukko, the blade made from an old file, the handle and molded case of birch bark. I have carried it for thousands of miles and it has never failed me. The well-tempered steel is hard enough to open a tin and still sharp enough to fillet a fish without needing retouching. Not long ago I dropped it while at Listening Point, and traced and retraced my steps without avail....Since it was early November, the smell of snow was in the air, and we knew if we did not find it then, it would lie outdoors all winter.

"Let’s go back once more," Al said before dusk settled down. "We might just be lucky." Back we went.....Then, with a shout of triumph, my young friend ran over and placed the knife in my hand. Before he left, he took a picture of me standing by the cabin turning the knife over and over. Far more than a tool, the knife to me a symbol of the spirit that went into the cabin, the canoe, and all things made by men proud of their work and of what they had learned to do.

From Tradition, Reflections of the North Country 1976