A Spyderco in Time Saves Nine

[KnotTheory]

Now to be clear, I am not at all against the use of knives for self protection, to me that's just one of many legitimate uses. But it annoys me to no end when people see a locking folder that can easily be deployed with one hand and decry it as a weapon that should be restricted to military and law enforcement usage only, and even then by only the rank of Lieutenant or greater and even then only if the President specifically authorizes it after obtaining the permission of the man's mother to do so. While any sharp object certainly can be used as a weapon, for one I doubt most people who are stabbed are stabbed by someone who carefully chose a $250 implement for its particle steel and well designed cutting geometry, and for another there's a whole universe of use cases besides that for such a knife even in the hands of us great unwashed plebeians.

Over the holidays I was reminded of something that happened to me many years ago now. It was a bright summer day, plenty hot and I'd guess it was around 3 PM. A rancher was in town and had purchased a large quantity of supplies and materials for various projects. Additionally, his wife had also gone shopping, she had demanded new appliances and light fixtures and sinks and she was getting them, by gosh. So there were about four of us stacking up and strapping down and getting this large order situated on this man's truck and fifth wheel trailer. He wanted some things here and some there and we were doing our very best to accommodate him.

Now I don't mean to say he was in our way, he was the customer after all and his order most likely paid my wages for the day, but he did have a tendency of tying off pieces of rope with loops in them at strange places and leaving them there, in such a way I wondered if he'd ever secured a load on a trailer before. This was quite a job, relatively speaking, because it monopolized four of us for over thirty minutes, and then Rick and I were left to finish and it took us another half hour to finish stacking, securing, tying, and adjusting things as the man wanted them.

Now you would think a mature man with his own business and considerable capital invested in same who had just purchased many thousands of dollars' worth of necessary job materials and nice, new expensive things for his home and business would be judicious in their transport. If you thought that you'd be wrong. We had just finished applying the ratchet straps and tying down the last of it securely. Rick and I were standing behind the trailer, and lo and behold, this enterprising fellow gunned his F-250 right there in the loading zone.

It was then to my utter horror I realized that Rick's foot was square in the middle of a loop of rope that was tied off to the trailer. I have never been this fast or quick or had this presence of mind ever before or sense, and I don't think I will ever react so adroitly to anything ever again.

I had my Endura out as fast as I ever have and I cleanly cut through the sisal just in time as the trailer, truck and all sped off as fast as the vehicle could manage. He barely avoided hitting a Toyota as he tore out of there like the proverbial bat out of ****.

Rick looked at me like I was insane. I suppose I looked insane, because from Rick's perspective I suddenly pulled out a knife, fell to my knees and swiped at the air near his foot. It probably looked like I thought his shoe was delectable and I was about to cut it off of him and eat it. It was then he realized I was holding a piece of rope and his eyes followed it, and he realized what had nearly happened to him. He vocalized it as many might, "Oh Sherbet." Except he didn't say Sherbet. You know what he said.

Rick was the tall dark and handsome type, easily two inches taller than me if not three, square jawed, Hispanic, big chest, big arms, big shoulders, he could have tossed me through a plate glass window, in fact he looked like a star football player. At that moment he looked whiter and paler and weaker and sicker than I'd ever seen him. It was almost funny.

I'd barely had my Endura (this was my second, my first had been hard used and lost) for a few months at that point, and it's a good thing I did have it, I can't imagine I could have deployed my company issued box cutter or a Victorinox Swisschamp in time to cut Rick out of that mess. I didn't think much about it at the time.

But now, when these conversations come up about why does anyone need such a scary, wicked knife that's clearly intended only for acts of pure evil, I think of that story.

[The Meat man]

Wow that is crazy. Thank your for sharing the story! People need to hear these things more.

[Bolster]

Well, sherbert, that is good story, and well written! You must be awfully good at loading sinks, because you could just as easily be a professional writer. Your style reminds me a little bit of Skeeter Skelton (whom I adore).

[eRoc]

[sal]

Hi KnotTheory,

Thanx for sharing.

sal

[James Y]

Thanks for sharing your cool story, KnotTheory.

Now my only question is, which version of the Endura was it? E3, E4, FFG, saber grind, SE, PE, or combo-edge? :D

Jim

[nerdlock]

Amazing! Don't hear stories like that too often. Rule # 9 indeed.

[Naperville]

Excellent story!

[u.w.]

Always a pleasure to read a well written story,
Thank you for taking the time

u.w.

[Doc Dan]

Great story. Such tales show clearly why the Spydie hole is necessary.

[ChrisinHove]

Thanks for sharing! It was Rick’s lucky day....