Like a collection of beautiful, frozen butterflies, the knives lay in neat rows, their gems gleaming in the light. The damascus blades, with their high polish and deep etch, look like silver muscle and sinew. Two groggy men approach the table from different directions. Its still early, before 8 AM on a Sunday, but the glittering and gilded blades catch their eye. As the approach, both are silent, but when they finally saddle up to the table, they start asking questions. The late, middled aged gentleman behind the table talks about the rare mineral inlays and the process of extracting said minerals, a few of which were discovered for the first time in the 1980s in the area of the infamous and mysterious Tunguska Blast. Yes, says the professorial gentleman, the same one referenced in Ghostbuster: “…the biggest interdimensional cross rip since the Tunguska Blast 1909.” He informs the two bleary eyed men—“geologists still don’t know if the new minerals were remnants of a meteor or earthly minerals transformed by the heat and explosion.” Then, as if both were puppets controlled by the same person, the two men, heretofore, silent say in unison: “its a really beautiful knife.”

I was one of those men and learning about a rare purple mineral at 7:46 AM on a bitingly cold February Sunday with delight. This is a sign that I am a knife enthusiast. Here is another great example of what I am writing about. Doctor Frunkey summarizes the enthusiast impulse the best with his rhapsody about his new Robert Carter Mini Talon:

One day late for #TalonTuesday is a knife I can truly call my grail. A full sole authorship @robertcarterknives Talon! This is the latest and greatest version, the Mini Talon, which features a 3-inch blade.
.
This knife has been a dream of mine for years. The original Talon was truly exciting, and my first high-dollar knife. I felt it was worth it because of the unique and beautiful design, and the fact it is a collaboration between @robertcarterknives and @frankfischercustoms. These two makers are basically the whole reason I got into high end custom knives in the first place. Now I own the ultimate expression of their art!
.
The blade is made of "Robmascus", which is Rob's proprietary stainless damascus of CPM154 and AEB-L steels. The contrast of the low layer pattern is great, and looks like it's in constant motion. The handle is made from "Robtanium", which is Rob's special mix of titanium alloys that create a high contrast and brightly colored pattern. The pivot collars and inlays are "Black Robtanium", which incorporates zirconium into the mixture.
.
Unique to this specific knife is the "bubble" backspacer, with carefully milled divots that add depth to the already insane layering of the handle spine.
.
Making this even more special, is the fact that Rob is a real friend. I have met and fed his family. When he suffered a severe, life-threatening ATV injury last year, I was able to help raise money for his medical expenses. Rob literally came back from the dead to make me this knife!
.
To say this is a dream come true would be an understatement. Not only does the knife LOOK spectacular, it is flawless in terms of fit, finish, and function. For all these reasons, this knife is perhaps my favorite acquisition yet.
.
What do YOU think?

Its about the knife, of course, but it is also not about the knife. The knife is the thing that we share in common, the lingua franca between knife knuts, but the joy comes in discussing and sharing the knife. The last part of Frunkey’s post is the sign that he is an enthusiast and not a purveyor or braggart—this isn’t about a sale or racking up cool points. Frunkey is sharing his joy over his new knife as a way of starting a dialog. The “What do YOU think?” isn’t a toss away line—its the entire point.

Sometimes I get a bit crispy with the whole gear thing and dread writing yet another post about what can easily transform into wanton materialism—the avaricious consumption of consumer goods. But then I stumble across something like Frunkey’s post and I realize that for true enthusiasts its not about the thing, the new, the collection. It is about finding something remarkable and SHARING it with others.

When someone IRL finds out I am into knives and asks why I go into pure enthusiast mode and explain to them the story of Michael Walker. My elevator pitch for knives goes a little something like this:

“Knives are humanity’s oldest tool, but they are really a platform for creativity, whether that is artistry or design (or both). If you look at the development of knives over the years you can actually see progress, innovation, and change. Because the basic function is so simple, knife innovation is much more obvious to see than something like a car where innovation is hidden in complexity and sheet metal.

Michael Walker is a perfect example of this innovation. First, he is basically self-taught, lives in rural New Mexico, and is sole author of nearly everything he makes down to the screws on every one of his knives. That alone is pretty remarkable. But there are two other things that make Walker incredible—his locks and his solution to the oldest design puzzle in cutting tools.

Locks first. So there are probably about 80 different ways to lock a folding knife in the open position. Some are variations on others, but suffice to say there are about 80. Only really 5 or 6 are used at any real scale because the vast majority of these designs are too complex to make profitably at production scales. Of the 5 or 6 production locks two—the liner lock and the frame lock are really variants on Walker’s original design of the liner lock. But here is the real thing—of the 80 or so locks, Walker invented something like 50 of them. Walker regularly invents an entirely new lock for a single knife and then invents another one for the next knife. So in the history of humanity, which has had cutting tools for millions of years, Walker invented 50 locks and the rest of humanity 30. One guy, one tool, endless innovation.

But that’s not all. Since we have had cutting tools there has been one persistent problem—hardness v. toughness. You want a hard edge so that cutting doesn’t dull the edge, but you want a tough spine so that impacts don’t break the blade. In Japan in the Age of the Samurai they used to clay to cover portions of the blade before they heat treated it and that created a differentially hardened blade—hard at the edge tough at the spine. Walker’s solution to the hardness v. toughness problem was different. Through a very painstaking process he fits together titanium for the spine (which is tough) and steel for the edge (which is hard). He does this through a series of cuts and pins but no welding or sintering. He calls it the Zipper blade. Not only is it incredibly functional, it is surpassingly beautiful. And here is the final kicker—nothing that he does here requires advanced technology just a perfect design and masterful execution. In short, while the tech existed for anyone to do this, it wasn’t until Walker did it that people realized it was possible.

That’s why I like knives.”

At this point the other person has either been convinced or has walked away from me thinking I am a crazy person. But that elevator pitch is probably as pure as the enthusiast impulse can get. We want to share with others what makes our passion so amazing. Thanks to Frunkey for letting me use this post (I am not sharing the picture because I want you to have to go find it—its worth the work).