It feels like a good time to re-visit some topics covered on KintlaLake Blog in recent weeks and months. In no particular order, then...
Scouting arms
I posted a pointed commentary last month about the disappearance of marksmanship from the list of essential Scouting skills. And while it may be endangered Scoutcraft, it's not yet gone.
Two long-gun merit badges remain -- Rifle Shooting and Shotgun Shooting. Earning each requires a Scout to demonstrate knowledge and proper mindset as well as skill with firearms.
Rifle Shooting gives a candidate the option of firing a .22 rifle, an air rifle or a muzzle-loader. The marksmanship standards might sound simple -- putting five three-shot groups inside an inch at 50 feet, for example -- but I'll wager that many of us gray-haired shooters can't do that reliably with open sights. Shotgun Shooting is similarly challenging.
It's also worth noting that Shooting Sports is an elective Ranger Award in the Venturing program, which succeeded Exploring in the 1990s.
There's no telling how long it'll be before runaway political correctness relegates those awards to Scouting's trash heap, but I wanted to temper my previous pessimism with some (encouraging) facts.
Urban Resources: Ranger Bands
Seldom does the sun set without another use for "Ranger Bands" popping into my head. It's a curse.
One sub-zero February evening I pulled a Mini Maglite from my TrailBlazer's console, and after just a few minutes the ice-cold aluminum had my hands aching. The next morning I cut a length of road-bike tube and slipped it over the housing -- problem solved.
I also found a neat idea (above) in a 1919 issue of Popular Science. Soon I believe I'll cannibalize a motorcycle tube and use that "cobbled" sheath on my Vaughan Sub-Zero Axe. Pictures (mine) to follow.
Sharps: Pocket sheaths
Looking at my "pocket sheath for the woods" the other day, it occurred to me to dose the hide with Montana Pitch-Blend Leather Dressing -- beeswax would help repel water, protecting the knife and (especially) the tinder in the fire kit.
The sweet-smelling paste darkened the leather slightly and gave it a nice sheen. Tested afterward, the surface beaded and shed moisture well. I treated my smaller pocket sheath, too, but with the Leather Oil -- less water-repellent than Leather Dressing (owing to the lack of beeswax), but just fine for the application.
Waste management
I hate to see food go to waste -- any food, for any reason. It's safe to say that it's one of my pet peeves. And although composting is a perfectly responsible way for us to turn truly disposable matter into fertilizer, I've been thinking about better ways to save fresh fruits and vegetables that risk spoiling before we're able to eat them.
At a local odd-lots store the other night I spied a brand-new five-tray food dehydrator. It was a convection-only model (no fan), so it wasn't ideal -- but it was "marked down" from $40 to $25. Besides, it came with a jerky kit.
So we brought it home. We'll do some drying, some vacuum-sealing and some canning and see how it goes over the next year or so. As for making jerky, I'll use the nifty convection oven that was in the kitchen when we moved into our house.
Winchester Model 67
I uncovered a relatively recent article about my old single-shot .22 -- "Winchester Model 67: A Product of Another Era," written by Gil Sengel and published in the January-February 2009 issue of Rifle Magazine. It covers the M67's history, development and variants, and I found it a fascinating read.
I'm unable to offer a hot-link to the piece, however -- it's vanished from Google Books. Go figure.
Scout at 16 weeks
The last time I wrote about our new puppy, she could sleep in a teacup with room to spare. Now she's four months old (give or take) and weighs about 25 pounds. She looks more Lab-ish every day -- otter's tail and all.
I agree with our vet that she'll top-out between 50 and 60 pounds before she's done growing. I hope she doesn't grow out of her disposition, though -- she has the most amazing personality.
Smart? You betcha. She was obeying "sit" and "stay" a long time ago. And she doesn't just "shake hands" -- last week she mastered "gimme five," "high five" and "all ten, up high."
She's definitely Daddy's Girl -- and Daddy is incurably smitten.
My EDC schemes are pretty well set. Over the last six months or so I haven't tried anything new, which means that I haven't learned much, either. Such stability makes for a functional rut, but it's still a rut.
Time to mix things up a little.
My Victorinox Farmer has been living in a leather sleeve in my pants pocket for quite a while. Last week I threaded a 29-inch ball chain through the hollow rivets at the open end of the sleeve, and voila -- a humble pocketknife became a necker.
The setup is comfortable to carry (leather beats Kydex every time) and access is surprisingly convenient. It doesn't work with all modes of dress, of course, but I declare this experiment a success.
As small fixed-blades go, the Bark River Custom Micro Drop Point is a wonderful knife and part of my regular rotation. (Mrs. KintlaLake carries one, too.) Ordinarily it rides on my belt in a simple bushcraft sheath, but yesterday I decided to test-drive it in a two-up pocket sheath I had laying around.
The smaller compartment is perfect for a single-AAA light, so I'll probably alternate between an iTP EOS A3 (pictured) and a Fenix E01. Either way, it's a tight fit -- a good fit, that is -- and a short lanyard is a big help in withdrawing the light from the sheath.
With both knife and light on-board, the pocket sheath rides nice and flat in the front pocket of my jeans. It's not as bulky as one might suspect -- just like the slipjoint sleeve, the pocket sheath makes its chunky cargo less noticeable by distributing the load.It'll be a couple of weeks of carrying before I can say for sure, but I think I have another winner. Whether I roll with this new setup for a long time or just a little while, I sure am glad that I crawled out of my rut.
Dawn was different this morning. The big blow stripped most of the remaining leaves from the trees around our house, treating us to sunup earlier than we've seen it in months.
We'll have our shade back again by next May.
A low-grade tornado did touch down four miles west of here yesterday afternoon, taking out a barn, and straight-line wind ripped the roof from a elementary school's gym 11 miles east. We were unscathed, save a neighbor's sweetgum limb that came down in our driveway. I'm reminded of similar good fortune two years ago.
The older spawn had a bit part in yesterday's events. His car is out of commission (again), so mid-morning I shuttled him to an appointment in Lancaster. To while away a half-hour of down-time, I skipped up the street to a small gun shop I'd been curious about.
The place was dingy, dusty, disorganized and crowded with all manner of stuff. Three old guys were working the counter, chatting with a handful of customers. Hundreds of long guns, most of them used, perched on racks lining the walls. A few six-foot showcases held knives and handguns of various ages and types.
Boxes of ammo were everywhere, placed with no apparent thought or logic. On a table in the middle of the shop, a grimy percolator burbled next to a stack of styrofoam cups.
What a find.
I didn't need anything, really, but the old-school atmosphere made me want to buy something, if only to mark my discovery. In a jumbled bin toward the back of the store I found a new Mag-Lite, a red 3-D model that looked like it had been there since the Reagan administration -- perfect. I grabbed a few boxes of 5.56x45mm (because a guy can't have too much) and stepped to the cash register.
"How much you want for this?" I asked the white-haired fellow behind the counter, holding up the flashlight.
He looked it over. "How 'bout $19.95?"
"Hmm," I said, feigning disappointment. "I was thinkin' closer to $15.95."
He scowled. "Fifteen bucks and not a penny less."
We grinned at each other and finished the transaction.
"We're just a simple old gun shop," he said as he bagged my purchase. "Hell, we didn't even have to lock up the guns until a few months ago. Some kid started stealin' 'em."
I dropped off the 18-year-old at home an hour later, advising him to park his butt in the basement 'til after the storm passed. A friend joined him at the house as I left to pick up his brother at school.
The storm was nearing its crescendo when my cell-phone rang -- the spawn, calling to report that he and his friend, unable to contain their teenage curiosity, left the basement to watch the storm from the front porch. The wind pulled the door shut behind them, locking them out of the house during a tornado warning.
Dumbasses.
Mrs. KintlaLake and I, celebrating the fifth anniversary of the day we met, ended the stormy day with dinner at an all-you-can-eat buffet. We left the boys at home to carve their jack-o-lanterns.
Besides having a great time, we got our money's worth -- pictured at right is my second of three plates.
The best dish of all, however, was waiting for us when we got home: toasted pumpkin seeds, fresh from the oven.
Life is good. Our spirit thrives.
Assembling an array of EDC tools is a process, not an event. My personal choices have evolved (and will continue to evolve) as my awareness, needs and abilities change.
A Palm Pre Plus and a Victorinox Farmer are holdovers, for good reason -- they work. Another phone will replace the Pre in due course but the Farmer, which lives in a leather pocket sleeve, is a keeper.
I still carry a light on my key ring (I'm constantly amazed at how often I use it) but I replaced the cheap squeezer with a Fenix E01. I did audition two other single-AAA lights -- neither holds a candle (you should pardon the expression) to the little Fenix.
An iTP EOS A3 proved less than durable and a Mag-Lite Solitaire, while American-made and sturdy as hell, is almost laughably dim compared to LEDs. The E01, in contrast, is bright and stout. It stays.
A wristwatch is an indispensable EDC item, one that I haven't mentioned 'til now. Not long ago I picked up a Casio AMW330D-1AV Dive Chrono in stainless steel, and it's well on its way to becoming my favorite watch -- ever. It's everything I ask a watch to be -- analog, accurate, water-resistant, readable (even in low light), rugged and inexpensive (less than a hundred bucks).
When I got my concealed-carry license in April, I knew that my Glock 19 would become my EDC handgun. Just how I'd carry it was far less certain.
After some experimentation I've settled on a Kydex Comp-Tac Two O'Clock IWB holster. Appendix carry isn't for everyone, I know, and (depending on how I'm dressed) I often carry the G19 at 4 o'clock in a leather OWB rig, but right now I'm liking the Two O'Clock -- a lot.
Because two is one and one is none, I carry a spare 15-round mag, weak-side, in a simple Fobus paddle magazine pouch. My defensive round: Cor-Bon 115gr JHP +P.
I'll wrap this snapshot of my EDC inventory with the plain-edge Benchmade 556 Mini-Griptilian I've been toting since July. I bought it (somewhat impulsively) at a cozy gun shop over in Morgantown and, having come to love the full-size 551 already, the Mini held no surprises -- same great knife, downsized for more convenient EDC.
When I posted about juggling my everyday-carry lineup last month, I speculated that I'd "make more adjustments as time goes by."
I already have.
The Nite Ize Clip Case Cargo remains, as do the Victorinox One-Hand Trekker and Palm Centro. The Nite Ize pouch, while anything but slim, is convenient and capable. My Centro gets used only once or twice a day, maybe, but it stays with me regardless.
The OHT, which replaces my Victorinox Farmer on workdays, is the EDC tool I turn to most often. Its screwdrivers and one-hand-opening blade keep me from having to run to the rollaway cabinets. None of my co-workers carries such a pocketknife -- or, for that matter, a knife of any kind -- which I find positively puzzling.
Until I signed-on with the motorcycle shop, I hadn't held a job requiring portable light since I worked campus security in the 1970s. Back then I carried a massive Kel-Lite; these days something much smaller is in order.
I decided on the iTP C7T for a number of reasons. First, like every other iTP I've used, it's an extremely solid, high-quality piece at a reasonable price.Second, I chose the "T" (tactical) version for its momentary-on feature and because it lacks the silly (to me) strobe and S-O-S functions found on the "R" (regular) C7.
And third, although I considered the more-compact iTP C9 (powered by one CR123A battery) and larger C8 (two AAs), I picked the mid-size C7 because it takes but a single AA -- a common cell, especially around the shop, and if I run out of juice I don't need to score more than one battery to get my light up and running again.
In use, the C7T is great. It's just the right size and throws a powerful, practical beam, whether I'm rummaging for a 1950s-vintage final drive buried at the back of a dark shelf or locking the gates and storage containers after nightfall. The power-saving adjustable-intensity feature is a plus, too.
Speaking of adjustments, I did make a change to my back-up folding knife. A week ago I swapped the Gerber Ultralight LST for a plain-edge Spyderco LadyBug3.
The littlest Spydie is a more costly choice, for sure, but thanks to the thumbhole it can be opened easily with one hand. To me, that feature alone is worth the additional expense -- and besides, it's a VG-10 Spyderco. 'Nuff said.
Finally, a Bark River Bravo Necker -- in the standard-issue Kydex sheath, with firesteel, suspended from a hardware-store ball chain -- has joined my EDC kit for the last few weeks. I don't know if it's a lifetime commitment, but the rig rides so naturally under shirts and sweaters that it might well become permanent.
Just in case, I mean.
Not long after starting my new "regular job," it became clear to me that I'd have to adjust my everyday-carry arsenal. To wit:
Victorinox One-Hand Trekker
iTP C7T LED flashlight
Gerber Ultralight LST
Palm Centro
Nite Ize Clip Case Cargo
My keys now get parked on my desk as soon as I arrive at the shop. The OHT lives in a pants pocket, while the other items ride on my belt in the Nite Ize holster. I'm quite sure that I'll make more adjustments as time goes by.
More about my choices -- and the range of everyday tasks that prompted them -- next month.
Pockets are good.
In the EDC game, more pockets are better. But as much as I love pockets, I tend to hang a lot of my everyday-carry items on my belt.
My cell phone, encased in a protective Body Glove, rides just forward of my right hip. An oh-so-handy Nite Ize S-Biner corrals a wad of keys and fobs and dangles from a belt loop. Depending on the day's destination and purpose, occasionally I'll make room for a sheath holding a small fixed-blade or a multi-tool.
Belt carry is convenient, sure, but some days my waistline looks positively tactical. I really don't need to add anything else to this already-crowded piece of real estate.
That said, I have.
Early each morning, my first chore is to take two dogs on a "business trip" -- attach their leashes to their collars, walk them to the edge of the yard, clip their tie-outs, unclip their leashes...wait...then reverse the process and return the critters to their crates.
This time of year I perform that ritual well before dawn. Despite outside lighting, I'm clipping and unclipping in shadows, a two-handed task which is neither easy nor certain. Yesterday I began bringing some illumination of my own, in the form of a compact LED squeeze-light.
Hanging from my S-Biner, the LED light gets squeezed on before I leave the house. It puts a just-right spot of bluish light at my feet, leaving both hands free for tethering.
It's simple and it works. It won't be long before the mornings will be colder and a heavier coat will cover my waist, though, so at that point the LED light will leave my belt and become a zipper pull.
The second addition to my belt-carry arsenal, a KSF Leather Horizon, has involved more of a commitment on my part. Because the large version of this folder pouch occupies over six linear inches of belt space, it's required me to re-think and re-arrange my scheme.
I've been toting my SOG Tomcat 3.0 in the Horizon for about a week. Rather than offer a full review here and now (I expect to do that later), I'll say simply that I'm really getting to like the big Horizon. It's like no sheath I've ever carried.
Innovation is, often by definition, unconventional, so it should be no surprise that adding the Horizon would be an exercise in adapting. I have no problem with that, of course, especially when it allows me to carry my favorite big folder in a way I hadn't imagined.
In short, the Horizon is cool. Give me another week to settle my system and I'll say a bit more than that.
Two long-gun merit badges remain -- Rifle Shooting and Shotgun Shooting. Earning each requires a Scout to demonstrate knowledge and proper mindset as well as skill with firearms.
Seldom does the sun set without another use for "Ranger Bands" popping into my head. It's a curse.
Looking at my "pocket sheath for the woods" the other day, it occurred to me to dose the hide with Montana Pitch-Blend Leather Dressing -- beeswax would help repel water, protecting the knife and (especially) the tinder in the fire kit.
