Knifemaking: hardening and tempering and the Hound, Mark III

“Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.”

― Leo Tolstoy

One of the main things that drew me to the craft of bladesmithing is the process of heat treating- the process that hardens and strengthens the steel into something strong and functional.  I find it to be a reflection of the male psyche.  The steel comes to you soft and impressionable- just as we are when we are young.  It’s much easier to work the steel when it is soft, or annealed, than when it is hardened.  You then shape and grind the steel as you see fit- this is growing up and finding your place in the world.  Depending on how well you are or are not equipped, it could take a long time.  Through a process of slow heating and quick cooling the steel becomes hardened- our adult selves.  Though it is extremely hard, it also extremely brittle- it will shatter if dropped.  This is where the process stops for some people.  A brittle blade looks like a knife, feels like a knife, and will cut like a knife.  Appearances are deceiving and without proper tempering this piece of metal that resembles a knife will crumble under stress and will be unsalvageable.  So it is with some men.  When crafting a blade, you don’t let it crumble- it goes straight into low heat for several hours to draw out the stress from the hardening process and becomes flexible and durable.  In the male pysche, crumbling is part of the tempering process.  This is where our flex and bend comes from.  Like the tempering process of a blade it takes a long time.  This is the ethos behind my craft.

I also find it to be a reflection of the healing process from pain, trauma, and grief.  When any of these occur it is important to be with these things, and to be with those close to you who may be struggling to be with these things.  There is a really beautiful blog by Tim Lawrence.  He says these things are meant to be carried, and that this process of carrying our pain and trauma and grief can harden us.  I’ve experienced this in dealing with my own areas of grief, and trauma, and pain.  In this hardening it felt like I lost some things.  There were times when I couldn’t find my hope, or my light, or my path.  There were times when I couldn’t find my love, my self-worth, or my joy.  Everything was brittle.  Like the steel, these things you have experienced have hardened you, affecting you deep down into the molecules of your being.  This is where tempering can happen.  It takes time.  There was an awful bout of hardening I went through about a decade ago and I couldn’t get off the couch.  For about six months on that couch I watched nothing but the Food Network.  One day, after six months of Jamie Oliver, Curtis Stone, and Mario Batali, something made me get up and start cooking.  There were roux’s of many different varieties, soups, stews, crepes, and dim sum.  I started baking bread.  I invited friends over.  I worked more, found joy, and ways to laugh again.  Pain was still there, and would come again as it always does.  Hardness was still there but there was a bit more flex and bend and less brittleness.  Those things I thought were lost had never left, most especially not the love.

I still like to cook.

There can be many things that help to temper us after a hardening.

This is the lesson of this incarnation of the Hound.  The hardness doesn’t go away- but it can be tempered into something with the ability to bend without breaking.  This is the mark of a Warrior.  Be the Knife.

Shaping and rough grinding: To create a strong blade, I took a page from the Japanese swordsmiths who crafted the weapons and tools of the Samurai.  For these swordsmiths, the process was a spiritual experience.  Every authentic Japanese blade features a temper line, called a Hamon, which translated from Japanese means “blade pattern”.

The spine of the blade is covered in clay while the cutting edge is left bare.  The blade is then hardened.  When in the fire, the bare cutting edge will reach critical temperature for hardening while the clay coated spine does not.  What results is a differentially hardened blade.  The softer spine has more flex and bend while the blade edge is fully hardened.  This makes for an incredibly tough sword that is far less likely to break but just as deadly as a fully hardened blade.

I cheated a bit and used furnace mortar instead of clay….

I gooped it onto the parts of the blade not crucial to slicing and stuck it in the oven to cure:

After the mortar is cured, she goes into the forge.

Hardened: 
  That tempering part, for flex and bend…

Thumb for scale….

Into nearly boiling vinegar.  The vinegar eats away at the softer steel of the spine faster than it does the harder steel of the blade.  What results is a gorgeous line where the softer steel meets the harder…  Handle…
  

  

The Hound, Mark III.  Etched 1095 spring steel, Texas Mesquite handle, Kydex spacers, and brass hardware.

This blade was a commission for a very dear friend of mine who waited patiently for almost a year while I got my shit together.

Be the Knife

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Knifemaking: honor, integrity, and the Hound

Both sides of my family were landless sharecroppers and mountain people from as far back as I can remember…What did I receive from this lineage?  Things I believe to be very valuable: a good raw intellect and a good tough body…A sense of honor that results in a touchiness common to our people…When the only thing you own is your sense of personal honor, you tend to protect it at all costs.

Eric L. Haney, Inside Delta Force

This blade was initially a commission from another very dear friend of mine.  He asked for a knife that was based in a sort of old-world honor.  A sort of honor that is maybe not seen so much today, at least not on the surface of things.  Something that may get lost in performance reports and email threads.  Something that isn’t tied to how much money you do or do not make, what deity you do or do not pray to, what color your skin may or may not be, and completely independent of whatever gender with which you happen to identify.  A sort of goodness that comes from having a place in this world, of knowing deep within your being that you deserve to be here and that no one can take that away from you.  He asked that it be called the Hound and I got to work.

There are times in my life when I have felt empty and hollow, like something was missing.  I tried filling this with all sorts of things- material things, a busy schedule, pharmaceuticals, and overindulgences of food and drink.  What was actually missing at those times was a personal bearing.  In more difficult times I had traded my honor for things that were fleeting, for a sense of security, and for a feeling of belonging.  When you have something to ground yourself in and can carry yourself in esteem, the aforementioned things will find their way to you, though at times it may feel like you are a thousand miles away from any of them.  No one gives this feeling to you.  Some people have this from an early age, others have to find it, and still others go through hell and many trials by fire to figure out what it is for them.  Some people have been beaten down so far that they aren’t aware that it even exists- but still it can be theirs.

When you act and speak from this place it brings an integrity and truth to the things you do.  A resonance that permeates everything- like an orchestra, where a balance of intonation, volume, harmony, and depth of emotion makes a gorgeous sonic mass.  There may be chaos all around you but within you everything moves in synch, just like the bows of a symphony orchestra.

I “finished” this blade some months ago and was never quite happy with it.  I’ve since made a blade of the same bearing for my friend, the Hound Mark II (here is a picture).  I didn’t find the initial bevel work on this knife to be satisfactory and I didn’t come to this conclusion till after I had hardened the steel.  One has to be careful grinding on hardened steel: if it gets too hot the steel loses it’s temper.  So with a cup of ice water I took the bevel to where I was happy with it.

It’s important to not give away our honor, as it can be the thing that gets us through when there may not be anything else.  As it follows, I added a sturdy grip on the Hound.  I wanted it to melt into the hand and hold fast for times when holding anything may be challenging.  
  
Profiled, ground, and sanded  After hardening…
During tempering…    Roughing in contours…Cherrywood for balance….
Mostly sanded…  The Hound
  
  
  
  

The Hound was made from O1 tool steel with a Cherrywood handle and brass rivets.  Hold to your honor.

If you find you would like to purchase one of my blades or have me craft one for you, email me or check out my Etsy store.   It may end up on this blog…