It's interesting what Duncan was saying about growing to like different patterns over time. The Lambsfoot is not one of the patterns I used, or saw around when I was a kid. And the handle was a strange shape compared to what I was used to seeing.
I grew to have an interest in the pattern through reading this, and Jack's earlier Lambsfoot thread.
http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/showthread.php/1069771-The-Silence-of-The-Lambsfoot
It was only recently though, that I actually acquired a couple of Lambsfoots - and was gifted one
, and had a chance to use this outstanding 19th century farm and utility pattern, which has much to offer the 21st century user.
One of the things which was brought home to me, was how you just can't pre-judge what a particular knife will feel like in-hand and in-use. This effect can be observed when you get a group of knives together at the same time, and for some intangible and unpredictable reason, one of them just feels
right. I would contend that most old patterns are actually quite sophisticated evolutions of human ergonomics and task/tool adaptation.
The main virtue of the Lambsfoot to me is actually the fine ergonomic shape of the swayback handle first, and then the usefulness of the straight edge in good steel and fine tip control after.
I like how this is a handle shape which still recalls its heritage: that primal, comfortable shape in hand of old, well-worn hafts of antler, or smooth, curved animal horn slabs of its cutting tool ancestors, back there in our not so distant past.
The Golden Lambsfoot
This knife has the added cool factor to me, that the haft covers actually
are cattle horn. Another thing I like as a lefty, is how the golden, translucent side is the pile side, which importantly, adds to the enjoyment if Chicken-Eyeing it, while using it.
I have to start with a confession regarding this knife. I've only really been using it since this last weekend, due to it having an unusual issue which, in the end I just couldn't abide. The blade, which is centred in the channel at its tip, had actually been krinked along its length to achieve this! It was actually like someone had grabbed some pliers while the blade was annealed and first bent it one way, then a bit further down, bent it the other way. I've never seen a blade quite like that.
I can overlook minor cosmetic issues, and flaws that can be easily fixed, but not that. So I thought, what a pity, considering the outstanding handle covers, and set it aside in favour of the ebony Lambsfoot for a user.
This last weekend I was looking it over again, when I realised I could just grind down the blade flats and thin out the edge area a bit, and the worst of the rippling would be gone, and the edge apex would be reasonably reset, straight and centred.
Doing this also had the benefit of providing a test in edge geometry improvement. I've noticed that a lot of the 'Golden Age' pocket knives I've been able to examine, have very thin flat grinds, almost zero grinds, compared to many modern traditionals that would tend to stick to, maybe, 0.015-0.025" behind the edge.
This would naturally make them superb cutters, and easy to sharpen, especially for people who haven't handled or seen really sharp knives before. It's easy to see how Sheffield cutlery got its reputation with fine edge design like that - aiming for high performance cutting ability first, and relying on the user to learn to work within the proper parameters of the tool, second.
I asked Stan Shaw about this, during the visit to his Kelham Island workshop Jack and I made earlier this year, and he said forgers always left some thickness near the edge to prevent blade ripple during heat treatment and cooling, and also to ensure structural uniformity and consistent hardness when material is ground away later to form the blades flats and edge apex.
The Japanese knife makers I have seen had a similar technique of forging quite thick blade blanks in the edge area, and then grinding away steel in its hardened state afterwards, to form the blade profile and edge apex.
They say it is more wearing and costly on materials and machinery, but it is the right way to do it and produces better edges. One maker I saw in Sakai, Kenichi Shiraki-san went to the additional step of having a large stock of forged blade blanks of different patterns in pigeon holes in a sort of holding area where they were stored for months before being final ground. He said it allowed the metal to 'rest' and 'season', like Finnish arms manufacturer Sako do with their rifle barrel blanks.
Anyway, my A. Wright and Son, Golden Ox-horn Lambsfoot reground to a blade thinness more like the Unity Lambsfoot, is a little pocket laser! I don't have my micrometer at hand - it's packed away - but the thin, flat taper from edge to spine feels pretty similar now on the Golden Lambsfoot as the hundred year old, razor edged Unity forged blade. I've used it to peel apples and slice vegies the last couple of days and it's an excellent paring knife, turning nimbly in the cut, and just gliding through material. I'm looking forward to spending more time using it over the coming months.
That is, if my thumb can stand it.
Let's just say The Golden Lambsfoot and the torn stump of my thumbnail are taking a break from each other at the moment.
Next:
Lambsfoot Noir.