Category Archives: Folders

Folders, Review

PARA MILITARY® 2 LIGHTWEIGHT BROWN CPM 15V® SPRINT RUN® — Let there be light again !

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There are knives that become products, and there are knives that become dialects.
The Spyderco Para Military 2 since its inception belongs firmly to the second category.

For sixteen years, the PM2 has occupied a rare position in the knife world: not merely respected, but culturally embedded. Made in Golden Colorado USA Earth, designed in the lineage of the original C36 Military model and its offspring the Paramilitary 1 from 2004, the Paramilitary 2 refined the formula into something more agile, more urban, more universally wearable.
Key improvements introduced in 2010 were:
Ergonomics: Thinner, refined G-10 handle.
Mechanism: New Bushing Pivot System for smoother action.
Clip: 4-position pocket spoon clip.
Blade: Slightly thinner blade profile with an elongated tip.
From there, the Spyderco Paramilitary 2 quickly established itself as a modern classic in the knife industry. It also became the most compelling ambassador for Spyderco’s in-house Compression Lock system, turning simple fidgeting into something unexpectedly addictive.

Its full-flat, leaf-shaped blade geometry delivers near-universal utility — a fine, precise tip paired with a confident, efficient cutting edge. In use, it feels less like compromise and more like calibration.

And then there is the ergonomics: that unmistakable Spyderco palm swell and forward choil, which transform hard tasks into something almost composed, almost effortless.

Even AI now generates imaginary PM2 variants — sometimes hilariously inaccurate ones with back locks — which says a lot about how deeply the Spyderco Paramilitary 2 has embedded itself into modern knife/EDC culture.

Because the PM2 was never just a tactical folder. It became the Porsche 911 of contemporary EDC: instantly recognizable across a room, endlessly reinterpreted, yet impossible to mistake for anything else but one of the Spyderco Millie family.

And yet, for all its success, the classic PM2 always carried a subtle contradiction.
It was a knife celebrated for everyday carry that still weighed like a “serious” tool. A tool which floats like a butterfly but sting like a bee.
So, the same process which turned its little brother Para3 G10 into Para3 Lightweight has been applied: get rid of G10 scales and bring the Fiber Renforced Resin / FRN !


The new Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight changes that entirely.

At roughly 76 grams, the PM2 LW does not feel like a trimmed-down PM2.
It feels like an entirely different interpretation of the design.
To put that into perspective, it is even 16 grams lighter than the Spyderco MicroJimbo — a knife already considered compact and featherweight by EDC standards.

Compared to the classic G-10 PM2, the difference becomes almost startling: 32 grams gone, dropping from 108 grams to just 76.
That is nearly a 30% reduction in weight.

Edge-wise, the blade-to-weight ratio is remarkable — and decisively in favour of the Spyderco Paramilitary 2. 😉
Oh well, I’m joking — these two knives were never meant to compete.
They simply occupy different territories of utility, and both earn their place in my pocket for different reasons.
Still, this new Lightweight feels like the moment Spyderco finally allowed the PM2 to become what it was always destined to be: not merely lighter, but almost spectral. The Para3 LW vibes haves been compared to the Delica. The PM2 got the Endura’s: a ghost of a knife you completely forget is clipped to your pocket… until the exact second you need it.
Another clue?
The clip.
Look closely.

The deep-carry clip makes the knife feel even stealthier in the pocket, almost invisible in daily carry.
Tip-up only, though.
It’s not exactly a pocket shredder, but it’s not the gentlest on pocket seams either — even if the clip geometry and FRN patterning have clearly been tuned to make deployment and carry as smooth as possible.

In my view, the central “medallion” on the Spyderco Para 3 (pictured here) feels more refined and better resolved visually. It has a cleaner, more intentional integration into the design.

Here, on the PM2, it simply reads “Para Military 2” — which feels oddly understated. Curiously, the Spyderco name itself is nowhere to be found on that element, a surprising omission for such an iconic model.

But then again, this is exactly the kind of detail enthusiasts obsess over.

Personally, I prefer the FRN molding of the Spyderco Para 3 Lightweight in the epicenter of the pattern — it feels slightly more refined and cohesive. On the other hand, I find the Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight superior around the Compression Lock interface and the access to the Spyderhole, both of which feel more open, more natural, and ultimately more satisfying in use.

The handle transformation comes primarily through the FRN handle — fiberglass reinforced nylon — a material longtime knife enthusiasts still love to debate with almost religious intensity. Traditionalists often associate premium folders with layered G-10, titanium, or carbon fiber. FRN, by comparison, can seem almost too practical, too honest about its intentions. Forums discussions around Spyderco’s lightweight models reveal the familiar divide: some users still perceive FRN as less luxurious, while others praise its traction, comfort, and remarkable reduction in carry fatigue.
One thing is certain: FRN brings a significant leap in ergonomics.

You can see how the design has been subtly refined to erase the boxy, almost overbuilt feel of the G-10 version.
Spyderco’s history with FRN stretches back through legendary lightweight models like the Spyderco Delica, Spyderco Endura and the Spyderco Salt Series — knives that became icons precisely because they vanished into the pocket while remaining utterly dependable in dirty, wet, unforgiving environments.
The people at Golden has spent decades refining FRN into something uniquely their own. On a Spyderco, FRN is not budget plastic. It is engineered utility.
The texture, invented by Sal Glesser, is the key.

That bidirectional pattern grips the hand with a kind of mechanical confidence — less refined than blasted titanium perhaps, but more secure when life becomes sweaty, cold, rushed, or imperfect.

What makes the Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight genuinely fascinating is not merely its weight reduction, but the engineering compromise Spyderco somehow refused to make.
Because removing mass from a back lock or liner lock is relatively straightforward.
Removing mass from a Compression Lock platform is something else entirely.
The Compression Lock is one of the defining mechanical signatures of Spyderco — a brilliantly elegant system designed by Sal Glesser that combines strength, fluidity and one-handed safety with an almost addictive tactile character. But unlike simpler locking systems, it traditionally depends on nested steel liners and a rigid chassis architecture.

In other words: it was never meant to live inside an ultralight FRN body.
That is the hidden tour de force of the PM2 Lightweight.

Spyderco did not simply shave material away from the classic design. They had to rethink how the Compression Lock itself could survive — and still feel reassuringly precise — inside a platform whose entire philosophy is flexibility, lightness and minimal structure.

FRN has a very different mechanical behavior from G-10.
It flexes differently. Resonates differently. Carries load differently.
The scale’s edges can feel a touch sharp/aggressive out of the box, but I usually knock the initial bite down slightly with my thumbnail.
Not a big deal.

And yet, in hand, the PM2 LW still delivers that familiar Compression Lock experience: the sharp metallic click, the secure lockup, the controlled drop-shut feel, the confidence under pressure. The knife retains the mechanical identity of a “real” PM2 despite having shed nearly a third of its weight.

That balance is far harder to achieve than most users realize.

Too much liner removal, and the knife begins to feel hollow or vague.
Too much FRN flex, and the lock loses its aura of precision.
Too much steel reinforcement, and the entire Lightweight philosophy collapses under its own contradiction.

Spyderco somehow threaded the needle.
In hand, the result is fascinating because the PM2 LW does not feel cheap, nor stripped-down. It feels optimized — almost industrially purified. As though the designers kept asking themselves a brutal question:
“How little knife can we leave… before it stops feeling like a PM2?”
And the answer, apparently, was 76 grams.

So who, exactly, is this new Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight really made for?
Not the collector seeking desk-jewel materials.
Not the enthusiast who wants maximal heft and polished mechanical theater.
This PM2 is for people who actually carry a knife every day and do not want to feel it in their pocket. Like a ghost… a spirit.
For the light traveler, moving through the world in technical fabrics and ultralight luggage — absolutely yes. The Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight is exactly on point.
For the architect, photographer, paramedic, cyclist, climber, sailor, or city commuter who notices every unnecessary gram.
For those in the field where every gram really matters — soldiers, paratroopers, operators, and anyone carrying their world on their person — the Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight makes immediate sense.
For the those who slips a knife into athletic shorts and forgets it exists until the moment it is needed.
And when needed, the action remains fluid , smooth and effortless, while the absence of heft is almost disorienting at first. This is where the name Lightweight stops being a designation and becomes an identity — carried here to its purest, most unapologetic expression.
Yes—there is something almost pure in handling this Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight, something slightly disorienting in its lightness. Almost paradoxical.
Elegant, refined, stripped to essentials — and yet fully present in the hand.
It doesn’t try to impress through mass or presence anymore. Instead, it disappears, and that absence becomes the experience itself.
As the late Mark Hollis (*) once suggested, “Only silence is more beautiful than music…” and in a strange way, that idea translates surprisingly well here.
This almost weightless refinement might be the closest thing cutlery has to silence: a design so resolved it no longer insists on its own existence, only its function.

The genius of the Lightweight is psychological as much as physical. A heavy knife asks for commitment. A 76 grams PM2 becomes invisible — and invisibility is the highest achievement in EDC design.

Ironically, reducing the weight also sharpens the very essence of the PM2 itself. The famous blade suddenly feels more dominant, more alive. Several early owners have described the sensation as though “all the weight is in the blade,” giving the knife a startling immediacy in hand.

Pictured beside a 120-gram Spyderco Military 2, the contrast becomes almost absurd.
Of course, the Lightweight will not seduce everyone.

Some users will always prefer the denser, almost bank-vault solidity of G-10 scales and full steel liners. Others simply enjoy the tactile indulgence of heavier materials. (I once installed Flytanium bronze scales on a Spyderco Para 3. The result was magnificent — and roughly as subtle as carrying a ship anchor.)

And that is perfectly fair, because the classic G-10 Spyderco Paramilitary 2 remains one of the greatest production folders ever created.

But the Lightweight introduces something unexpectedly contemporary to the platform: efficiency without compromise.

This particular example happens to be a Sprint Run equipped with CPM 15V — a truly high-octane alloy. Yet the steel is almost secondary to the broader philosophy behind the knife. Much like the celebrated 15V Para 3 Lightweight before it, this PM2 LW pairs one of the most extreme high-performance steels available with an astonishingly light 76-gram platform.


The CPM 15V Sprint Run is the enthusiast’s reading of the idea — a limited-production exercise in maximum performance taken to its logical edge. 15V itself borders on the extreme in the best possible way. With an unusually high vanadium content of nearly 15%, it was developed for exceptional wear resistance and outstanding edge retention. In Spyderco’s implementation, it is further elevated by Shawn Houston’s specialised heat treatment, identifiable by the discreet “Triple B” mark engraved on the blade.

The beautifully stonewashed blade arrives with an edge that is immediately convincing — thin, precise, and unmistakably sharp straight out of the box. In my experience, it may well be one of the finest factory edges Spyderco has ever delivered. Hair-popping performance is effortless, almost casual, and geometrically speaking, even the informal “bottle” or light push-cut tests feel almost trivial. Much better than on my Para 3.

Oh well, the exotic steel may attract the headlines.
(As a bit of a steel enthusiast, CTS-BD1N on the “vanilla” Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Lightweight doesn’t really excite me — it’s solid, reliable, easy to keep razor sharp, forgiving but uninspiring. I wouldn’t seek it out like I would CPM Cruwear steel, but I’d never pass on a great design just because of it.)

But the real story lies elsewhere: the revelation that one of the most iconic hard-use folders ever produced can suddenly feel almost effortless, friction less… pure.

Not diminished.
Distilled.
Purified.
And distillation brings spirit.
Spirit is light.
And this purity is no lie.

Disclaimer: This knife has been provided through Spyderco’s Ambassador Program, upon my own request. Thank you to the Spyderpeople for letting me review it. 

(*) For a musician and singer, Mark Hollis is unusually interested in silence, in what could be described as the gaps and intervals between notes. To listen to Spirt of Eden (1988) and Laughing Stock(1991), the last two albums by Talk Talk, the band of which he was singer and principal songwriter for more than a decade, is to encounter a music of fragments and dissolution, his murmured vocals often simply fading away as a song does not so much end as expire.

Advice, Folders, Review

The Serrations of the Everyday — Notes on a Serrated Magnacut UKPK enhance with titanium scales.

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There are objects we own, and others that, through use, quietly become extensions of our hand. The UKPK in Magnacut—here in its serrated form, dressed in Heinnie’s Titech titanium scales—belongs firmly to the latter. Not a piece to be admired at a distance, but one to be lived with. Everyday. Tested. Carried without ceremony.
This tool is low profile but with an hungry edge.

What strikes first is the paradox. A familiar, ergonomic silhouette—born from a will shaped by strict legal constraints—yet delivering a level of cutting performance that feels anything but limited. That serrated edge does not flatter at first glance. It unsettles some, even repels others. And that is precisely where its relevance begins.

Because real life does not deal in ideal materials or perfect technique. A slice of cooling pizza, a stubborn thread, double-wall cardboard, an electrical cable—each offers a different resistance. Where a plain edge demands precision, serrations adapt. They bite and initiate cuts. From a caresse to firm push cuts, using thin SpyderEdge serrations is an escalation in my cutting intentions. I need that material to be cut fast !!
It helps a lot when you cut a label in a store without to be noticed (once you bought it of course…)

In this configuration, Magnacut reveals a deeper character. I had noticed it on the wonderful Chief Salt . Its reputation is well established, but it is in repetition—across mundane, unremarkable tasks—that it truly asserts itself. Edge retention ceases to be a technical metric and becomes something tangible.
Days pass, materials accumulate, and yet the initial sensation—a ready, immediate hungry bite—remains intact with a quiet, almost disconcerting consistency. That makes a real difference for an EDC.

It is telling that even its own designer, Sal Glesser, found himself rediscovering the knife through this serrated Magnacut expression.

Notice my “preaching to the choir” post 😄

This is a genuine sense of surprise at the endurance of the edge, accompanied by a nod to Larrin Thomas, whose metallurgical work made this steel possible. This is more than technical acknowledgment; it is recognition of a rare alignment between design intent and material innovation.

The titanium scales subtly shift the relationship further. The knife gains density, heft and presence. I just love that. It’s no more a lightweight though but the tactile experience becomes cooler, more deliberate. There is something almost architectural about it—a structure defined as much by its material honesty as by its purpose, ready to meet the unpredictability of daily use by sea, air or land.

Over time, what emerges is a quiet redefinition of the serrated edge itself. Long confined to specialized roles—rescue, rope, marine environments—it finds here a broader legitimacy. Not as an alternative to the plain edge, but as a different philosophy of cutting. More instinctive. More pragmatic.

I have felt the same with the Chaparral serrated, offering those performance in a lady/gentleman format. The UKPK offers a longer blade but a legal solution.

The serrated Chaparral brings this same idea into a more restrained, almost tailored format—slim, discreet, almost polite in profile, yet unexpectedly serious once it starts working. It’s the kind of tool that disappears into a pocket and reappears only when needed, delivering performance without ever looking like it intends to.

The UKPK serrated Magnacut, on the other hand, pushes the concept further in a different direction. Same underlying logic, but with more reach, more cutting length, more immediate utility when the task scales up. It’s not trying to be more aggressive—it simply extends the capability envelope while staying within a legal framework that forces discipline into the design.

Put together, they sketch an interesting continuum rather than a category:
the thinner Chaparral as refined minimalism with bite, the thin UKPK as everyday legality stretched to its most useful expression.

Different formats, same underlying surprise: serrations stop being “special-purpose” and start behaving like a perfectly normal, highly efficient everyday cutting system !

To reach for a serrated blade to cut burger or break down a box should no longer feel unusual. If anything, it is where this knife feels most at home. Its modernity lies not in spectacle, but in normalization—in making high performance feel natural within the ordinary.

The serrated Magnacut UKPK does not argue its case. It does not need to. It simply works—and in doing so, it quietly resets expectations.

Low-profile in the pocket, yet unmistakably assertive at the edge, it pairs a hungry, enduring bite with a reassuringly solid construction. All of it contained within a form that remains legally acceptable in many places—an understated balance of restraint and capability.

Advice, Folders, Review

INSTALLING THE TITECH HEINNIE® EXCLUSIVE SPYDERCO UKPK TITANIUM SCALES.

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Installing Titech titanium scales from Heinnie Haynes onto a Spyderco UKPK is less a mechanical operation than a quiet exercise in precision, patience, and restraint—something closer to watchmaking than simple knife maintenance. And I’m clumsy.
The UKPK, with its deceptively simple slipjoint construction, hides a strong and finely balanced backspring fork whose tension defines the entire character of the knife. Respecting that tension is the key to a successful transformation. And trust me, it asks for respect because it is strong !!

Begin by approaching the disassembly with intention rather than haste. A quality Torx driver is essential, not only to preserve the hardware but to maintain control over each movement. Remove the pocket clip screws first, then the body screws, and only then ease into the pivot. At this stage, the knife is still under spring tension, and it is important to keep a subtle, steady pressure on the handle as the scales begin to separate. The backspring should never be allowed to snap free; instead, it must be guided, almost persuaded, into release.

This moment defines whether the process remains controlled or becomes unnecessarily chaotic.

As the original FRN scales come away, the internal architecture of the UKPK reveals itself in a straightforward yet unforgiving layout: blade, backspring, stop pin, pivot barrel, and screws, all of which must be preserved and transferred. The most elegant way to proceed is to move components gradually, keeping their orientation intact, allowing the new titanium scale to receive them in a natural sequence rather than reconstructing everything from memory. The washers, often overlooked, are in fact central to the final action. They must sit perfectly flat on either side of the blade, aligned with the pivot, as even the slightest misplacement will translate into stiffness or uneven movement once assembled.
I have used gaffer tape to maintain the D Shape female screws in place while manipulating the scale.

Reassembly is where the transformation begins to take shape. One titanium scale becomes the foundation upon which the blade and spring are seated, their relationship re-established with careful alignment. The second scale closes the structure, and the pivot is introduced not as a point of tension but as a placeholder, tightened only enough to hold the system together.

Insert the blade carefully into the fork of the backspring, ensuring it seats naturally without forcing the geometry; from that moment onward, the entire operation shifts to the opposite end of the spring, whose tail must be guided with precision into the recessed channel of the titanium scale, where it locks into place and defines the tension of the mechanism.


The body screws follow, also left deliberately loose. At this stage, the knife should feel unresolved, almost unfinished, and that is precisely the intention.

The refinement comes next, and it is here that the distinction between an average installation and an exceptional one is made. The body screws should be brought to tension first, gradually and evenly, allowing the frame to settle without distorting the spring. Only then should the pivot be adjusted, and even then with the lightest touch, in minute increments. The temptation to over-tighten must be resisted entirely. On a slipjoint like the UKPK, excessive force does not create solidity; it creates imbalance, increasing spring pressure artificially and compromising the fluidity of the action. In extreme cases, it risks stressing the spring itself, which is the heart of the mechanism.
Keeping the pivot loose with a touch of threadlocker is exactly the right instinct; it allows the mechanism to settle into its natural alignment before you commit to final tension.

The final result: the UKPK gains a subtle weight, a cooler tactility, and a sense of structural integrity that the original FRN cannot provide.
I love the added heft—it enhances the feel while preserving the rustproof nature of the UKPK Salt.
t’s a rare upgrade where nothing essential is lost. Instead, everything is simply… tightened, deepened, and made more intentional.
And for around 57 euros, it feels like a genuine bargain.
Heinnie Haynes also offers brass and copper Titech scales, though they didn’t quite suit the spirit of my Spyderco UKPK Salt.
But if Sal Glesser ever releases a 52100 version of the UKPK, copper would suddenly make perfect sense. 🙂

Now my Spyderco UKPK Salt has developed a beautifully smooth action paired with a reassuringly strong mechanism. The mid-stop produces a crisp, satisfying clang that subtly signals quality. It’s a pleasure to handle, with a confidently positive open position that inspires trust every time.

Advice, Folders

“Part The Matters For Me” – Spyderco UKPK Salt Serrated vs UKPK Sprint SPY27 Plain Edge – Teeth vs Razor.

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I often come across very strong opinions when it comes to serrated versus plain edges. More often than not, users dismiss serrations outright—too ugly, too difficult to sharpen, ultimately useless, impossible to tune… usually without ever having truly put them to the test.

Consider this a brief attempt to set the record straight.

The Spydie UKPK Salt in Magnacut, here in its serrated form, is built for unforgiving environments : lightweight, corrosion-proof, and relentlessly efficient when conditions turn wet, fibrous, or hostile.

Facing it, the Spyderco UKPK Sprint Run in SPY27 with a plain edge embodies precision and control, offering a refined, razor-like cutting experience with effortless maintenance.

What do we got ? Two identical platforms, two radically different philosophies: one designed to endure, the other to excel.

Let’s first compare the steel. Two of my favorite high end alloys and luxury, in this case, does not come from polish or presentation. It comes from intent.

The UKPK Salt, dressed in serrations and armed with Magnacut, carries the modern obsession with resilience to its logical extreme. This is not a steel that negotiates. It exists in total defiance of the elements: saltwater, humidity, neglect. Where older stainless steels would stain, pit, or surrender their edge, Magnacut remains composed, almost indifferent. Its toughness borders on the improbable for something so corrosion-resistant, and yet it refuses to chase the last degree of razor refinement. Its edge is not delicate—it is enduring. One senses immediately that this is a steel designed not for the enthusiast’s bench, but for the long, indifferent stretch of real use.

Across from it, the Golden Child, blade of SPY27, a Sprint Run which offers a very different kind of luxury. Less demonstrative, more intimate. Designed in-house by Spyderco, COM-SPY27 feels less like a technological statement and more like a tuned instrument. It sharpens with ease, almost eagerly, taking on a ultra fine, ultra precise edge that invites control rather than brute persistence. Where Magnacut stands its ground, SPY27 moves—fluid, responsive, alive under the hand. It does not seek to dominate harsh environments; it refines the experience of cutting within them.

The distinction is subtle but decisive. Magnacut is a wonder steel that reassures. SPY27 is an exclusive steel that seduces.

Now about the edge shape…. Here, inevitably, the steel disappears. What remains is the edge—the only part that truly meets the world.

Like Moses said, “Part the matters for me”…
—oh wait, I meant the waters. 😉

On the Salt, the serrated profile transforms the blade into something almost mechanical in its intent. It does not glide; it engages. Each tooth acts as a point of aggression, catching, pulling, tearing through resistant materials with an efficiency that borders on inevitability. Rope, fibrous plastics, anything damp or uncooperative—these are not challenges but confirmations of purpose.
You need to try it to understand it. Serrations aren’t saws—they’re teeth.
Even as the knife loses its initial sharpness, the serrations continue to function, each peak preserving a fragment of cutting power. It is a system designed to keep working long after refinement has faded.

But there is no illusion here. This is not a refined edge. It does not slice so much as it asserts itself. Precision is sacrificed for continuity of performance. Elegance yields to certainty.

To sharpen it, use the corner of a stone or a triangular rod, and treat it like a chisel-ground blade: work each serration individually, then simply remove the burr on the flat side. It’s done in minutes—easy, almost effortless.

The SPY27 Sprint Run, with its plain edge, follows the opposite philosophy. The cut is continuous, uninterrupted—a single line of intent from heel to tip. It can be tuned at will, from a coarse, aggressive bite to a razor’s whisper. There is no tearing, no hesitation. Materials part cleanly, almost silently, as if persuaded rather than forced. In wood, the blade tracks with uncanny precision; in food, it glides effortlessly; in finer tasks, it answers the slightest pressure. Here, SPY27 reveals its true nature—not through endurance, but through absolute fidelity to the cut.

And when the edge begins to soften, it does not resist restoration. A few passes on leather, a moment of attention, and the blade returns to form. There is a rhythm to it—a dialogue between user and steel that serrations, by their nature, cannot offer.

Placed side by side, these two UKPKs do not compete so much as they define a spectrum.

The Salt, in Magnacut and serrations, is a study in persistence. It is the knife that continues when conditions deteriorate, when maintenance is forgotten, when the environment becomes hostile. It asks little and gives consistency in return.

The SPY27 Sprint Run is something else entirely. It is not concerned with surviving neglect. It assumes presence, attention, a certain appreciation for the act itself. It rewards that attention with a level of precision and tactile satisfaction that borders on indulgence.

In the end, the choice is not between better or worse. It is between two forms of excellence.

One refuses to fail.
The other refuses to compromise.

And that review was also inspired (in the background) by that beautiful New Model Army song :



“We all get what we’ve got coming to us
The tide flows both ways across the seas
All following through on promises made
The roads are filled with fleeing slaves and refugees – singing

Part the waters for me

Now this motioning forward will never stop
We’re like sharks in the water, if we stop swimming we die
All coming out of the ruins bedraggled and worn
Like a people who stared too long, too long at the sun in the sky – singing

Part the waters for me

Any god will surely come, deliverance will surely come
On our knees by the stony shore, crack the sky and deliverance will come

Part the waters for me”

Screenshot
Advice, Folders, Review

Reprofiling Intent: Turning the Yojimbo 2 into a Woodcraft Tool

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There’s a quiet irony in taking a knife designed for confrontation…
and teaching it patience.

I’ve written more than once about Jade, my 8 years old Spyderco Yojimbo 2 Sprint Run—a blade that was never meant for the forest.
It was conceived for speed, control, and intent in a very different kind of environment.

But strip away the narrative, and what remains is geometry.

And geometry doesn’t lie.

Somewhere along the way, it became clear that I wasn’t alone in that realization.
At the last Minimeet, I had the chance to handle a design by Michael Janich—a fixed-blade prototype unmistakably rooted in the Yojimbo 2’s DNA, yet openly aimed at bushcraft.

That moment changed the perspective.

Because it confirmed something simple: using a Yojimbo 2 in the woods isn’t a vue de l’esprit.
It’s not a conceptual stretch, nor a contrarian experiment.

It’s a natural evolution.

I wasn’t alone in seeing it as a whittler, a wood cutter, a tool for controlled work rather than confrontation.
It’s my reinterpretation—since 2018—of what a reliable forest knife could be against the grain: hollow grind and very pointy wharncliffe.

  • Steel: CPM M4 — aggressive, unforgiving, alive… and tough.
    Tougher than S30V, which matters when your Yojimbo carries a fine, precise tip.
  • Edge: Convexed — reshaped for efficiency, and just as importantly, easy maintenance on leather.
    A working edge, not a showroom finish.
  • Spine: Rounded — softened for control, especially in push cuts driven by the thumb of my left hand.

These aren’t cosmetic tweaks.
They are functional decisions that shift the knife’s center of gravity—from tactical response to wood interaction.
Because using a knife gently on a piece of wood is not just a task.
It’s a sensation. And that sensation—quiet, controlled, almost meditative—is where the real value lies.
Cutting wood is not only about efficiency.
It’s about pleasure.

And pleasure is an essential part of the cutting experience with a CPM M4 thin edge. That straight edge doesn’t fight the material—it applies a constant, controlled pressure through the cut.
It enters, separates, and exits with a continuity rarely found in production folders. Michael Janich has been advocate of that design for 25 years. And it seems he has taken his own Yo2 in the wild too.
Because that’s where the Wharncliffe reveals its truth.
Its straight edge isn’t a limitation—it’s an advantage for whittling.

Precision cuts become natural. Predictable. Repeatable.
And then the thin, convexed edge takes over.

Suddenly, even hard, dry wood yields with ease:

  • cuts deepen without resistance
  • fibers part cleanly—almost polished under the thumb
  • the blade tracks perfectly straight, as if guided on rails

What is often misunderstood as a “tactical” profile becomes something else entirely: a controlled cutting line—precise, deliberate, uncompromising.

Even feathersticks are no longer a technique.
They become a rhythm. A mantra.
Notches become intention.
Every movement feels deliberate. In total control.

Then comes the detail most people ignore: I have rounded spine on my Yo2. This is where the knife becomes an extension of my hand.
No more sharp edges digging into the thumb.
No hesitation when applying pressure.
Just a direct transfer of force, guided and stable.

In extended carving, this changes everything.
You don’t adjust your grip to the knife.
The knife adapts to your movement.

But CPM-M4 is not a forgiving companion.
It stains.
It reacts.
It asks for care. This is not Magnacut. 😉

But in return, it offers something rare: a lasting, aggressive bite into the material. In wood, that translates directly to efficiency.
Less effort. More control. Longer sessions without compromise.

It does raise a question, though—one worth exploring.
How would a Magnamax Yojimbo 2 perform in that domain?
Magnamax sits close, in spirit, to a stainless K390—high wear resistance, a keen, persistent edge in a rustproof package.
That could change the balance for a wooden Yojimbo 2.
Either way, it would be an interesting evolution of a SD tool into a wood knife.
But back in 2018, when Jade took shape as a sprint run, CPM M4 was the undisputed king of the hill.

Let’s be clear: Jade is not my traditional bushcraft knife.

  • It won’t baton logs
  • It won’t split kindling with brute force
  • It doesn’t pretend to be indestructible

But that’s precisely the point. This knife exists in its own different space:

Where cutting is not about survival theater,
but about precision, control, and understanding the material.
Calm and enjoyment.

It remains a folding knife and its tip is fine, by design.
But within its intended envelope, Jade performs with a clarity few knives achieve.

Because some knives are defined by their makers and others are polished by their users.
Jade belongs to the latter.

What began as a tactical tool has become something quieter, more refined:
a modern woodcraft instrument, shaped not by doctrine, but by experience. Convex at the edge, softened at the spine—
this is not a knife that was designed for the woods.
It’s a knife that learned them.
Jade the quiet warrior…

Folders, Review

UK PENKNIFE™ SALT® YELLOW CPM® MAGNACUT® — Civility Bares Its Teeth.

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Disclaimer: This knife has been provided through Spyderco’s Ambassador Program, upon my own request. Thank you to the Spyderpeople for letting me review it. 

There’s something deliciously subversive about the Spyderco UKPK in full serrated CPM Magnacut steel.
Something unique in the world of cutlery. So friendly and so formidable !
Imagine a slipjoint—non-locking, polite, born for UK legal carry—now equipped with one of the most advanced steels ever made… AND with a fully serrated edge. The kind of edge famous for emergency uses, an edge that looks like it wants to chew through a seatbelt, a rope, or your expectations like there is no tomorrow.
And yet… it works. Too well. And this is just great !

Back in the 80s, Spyderco didn’t just enter the knife world—they rewired it.
And at the center of that shift was an inventor: Sal Glesser.
Three ideas. That’s all it took:
the clip, the hole, and the teeth.
The clip turned knives into tools you actually carry—pocket, belt, or backpack.
The Spyderhole made one-handed opening instinctive, reliable… and easy to maintain in the real world.
And the serrations? They made blades hungry for fibrous materials.
Let’s get one thing straight, once and for all:
serrated knives are not saws.
They don’t remove material—they slice through it. Razor sharp, aggressive, efficient.
While everyone else was still polishing forged 52100 steel and dressing knives in stag like museum pieces, Spyderco dropped something radically different into the pocket: performance and reliability.
The early icons—Spyderco Worker, Spyderco Mariner, and Spyderco Police—weren’t about tradition.
They were about function.
Fully serrated edges. Stainless steels. Tools built to cut, not to impress.
They looked strange.
They cut like nothing else.

The Spyderco UKPK was Spyderco’s first true slipjoint, introduced roughly twenty years ago—not as a nostalgic throwback, but as a constraint-driven design.
It was built for one purpose: to comply with UK law.
No lock. A sub-3-inch blade.
But in true Spyderco fashion, compliance didn’t mean compromise.
Instead of dumbing things down, they engineered around the limitations:
a strong, confidence-inspiring pocket knife inspired by the Caly 3
with a prominent finger choil for control and safety and the unmistakable Spyderhole for true one-handed use.
What could have been a neutered tool became something else entirely:
a legal EDC that still behaves like a real knife.
The UKPK wasn’t designed to look traditional.
It was designed to work—within the rules, not despite them.
You don’t feel “underknifed” with any of the SlipIt in your pocket from the UKPK to the Squeak through the Urban.

(Pictured here with the UKPK Spy27 G10. The Salt is a FRN lightweight.)
But, yes, the UKPK has always been about restraint.
No lock. No aggression. Just that classic Spyderco leaf blade and a strong slipjoint spring doing quiet, honest work.

Link here for the forums

But now… serrations change the personality completely.
This is no longer a polite cutter— it’s a controlled velociraptor claw.


We already know how Spyderco’s serrations behave—from the long slicing authority of the Spyderco Native Chief Salt, to the feral aggression of the Spyderco Civilian, down to the unlikely precision of the “Mighty Grey Mouse,” the Spyderco Chaparral in full serrated.
(Notice on the picture: the Chaparral/Taichung serrations are “softer” than the Golden made serrated knives.)

Oh, SpyderEdge…
The bite is immediate. Unforgiving.
Cardboard, rope, fibrous material—this isn’t slicing anymore.
It’s total matter separation. “Part the matters for me !”


As you’ll notice, SpyderEdge uses a chisel grind—
which makes it surprisingly easy to maintain.
You work one side, raise a burr, then lightly deburr the other.
That’s it.
No complicated angles, no endless back-and-forth.
Fast. Efficient. Back to razor sharp in minutes.
For a blade that cuts this aggressively,
maintenance is almost… unfairly simple.

Now you’ll say: this isn’t new.
And you’d be right.
The Spyderco UKPK LC200N already brought serrations to the platform, with that ultra-corrosion-resistant, NASA-associated steel used in the Salt Series. (Click on the link for its extended review. That version exists now in green FRN.)
But this time… it’s different.
This time, CPM Magnacut steel’s turn to roar in your pocket.
And that changes everything in my book ! As I love Magnacu first.
And also because Magnacut doesn’t just resist corrosion—it brings toughness, edge stability, and a kind of refined brutality that pairs almost too well with serrations.
This isn’t just a variant.
It’s a very serious evolution of intent.



Here’s where things get almost absurd—in a good way as you get a blade that:
stays aggressive for ages
keeps cutting even when “dull”
laughs at moisture, sweat, food prep, urban abuse
This is not just durable—it’s low-maintenance lethality in a legal-friendly package.

The gentleman’s non locking folder has no business being here.
And yet—it thrives.
From the Amazonian coast to the unforgiving battlefield of my own kitchen, this “polite” knife sheds its manners the moment it meets real work.
What should feel restrained feels… unleashed.

Let’s be honest: serrations on a slipjoint feel wrong to most of knife collectors. You expect that kind of edge on a rescue knife, a tactical folder, something that locks like a plastic vault equipped with whistle.
But Spyderco pulls it off because:
the UKPK’s ergonomics are rock solid
the choil gives you a huge security if the blade closes on your fingers.
the walk & talk is confidence-inspiring, the slipjoint is hard to close.
You don’t feel under-knifed at all.

In the Real World, this knife shines where most EDCs hesitate: ripping through packaging without slipping, cutting rope under tension
food with crust (bread, cured meats—yes, really) in wet environments where plain edges can lose bite.
Nope, it’s not a bushcraft blade by design but it won’t frown to be used in the woods.
It’s not a slicey Instagram queen.
It’s a working edge for people who actually cut things or need thing to be cut quick !


The serrated Magnacut UKPK is a contradiction that became a concept.
It takes:
the legality of a slipjoint
the performance of serrations
the excellence of Magnacut
…and fuses them into something oddly perfect and reliable.

The clip is black and deep carry and all the metal elements (clip, screws, spring and of course blade) are impervious to salt water: “marine gear” is the name of the game.
Knowing LC200N green version is rustproof when Magnacut is stainless.
That green LC200N version is more sea proof if you see what I mean. But the edge won’t last as long as with the Magnacut version. 😉

The UKPK Salt Serrated in Magnacut isn’t your refined EDC.
It’s lightweight, high-visibility yellow, with a remarkably thin blade—among the thinnest ever seen on a SlipIt platform.
Made in Golden, Colorado, it turns into something unexpected:
your new all terrain folding survival tool… in a legal suit.

Overall Length: 6.91in 176mm
Closed Length: 3.95in 100mm
Blade Thickness: .098in 2.5mm
Tip Carry Position: Tip-Up

Blade Length: 2.98in 76mm
Edge Length: 2.58in 66mm
Handle Material: FRN
Lock Type: SlipIt
Origin: United States

Steel: CPM® MagnaCut®
Knife Weight: 1.7oz 48g
Clip Position: Ambi
Grind: Full-Flat

I have now installed some Titech Titanium Scales exclusive from Heinnie.
Take a look at my previous review of the LC200N UKPK Plain Edge here.

Folders, Review

Spyderco Military 2 Salt – C36GBKYLMCP2 – From ATS-34 to the Salt Age

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If you were around in the 1990s, you remember the Steel Wars.
Back then, the aspirational trio was ATS-34, 440C, and D2.
ATS-34 wasthe working man’s stainless . 440C was the gentleman’s stainless . D2 was the semi-stainless tool steel brute with some bite.
Users were happy with Gin-1 blade. VG10 was not yet available. Hard chore fixed blades were made in 1095 or 1075 or 52100 carbon steel.
Anyway, those were the benchmark steels — the ceiling, not the starting point.
Then something shifted.


In 1996, Spyderco did something quietly radical with the original Spyderco Military: they moved from ATS-34 to CPM 440V — later renamed S60V. It wasn’t just a steel swap. It was a philosophical statement.
The Military became the first production folder to embrace Crucible’s Particle Metallurgy steel.
That moment matters a lot for knives users and for Spyderco.
It marked the beginning of the modern steel era in production folders — high vanadium content, fine carbide distribution, wear resistance that outpaced what most users even knew how to sharpen. It was controversial. It was ambitious. It was forward-looking. Typical Sal Glesser’s route to unknown territory.
And the Military has been evolving ever since.

Disclaimer: This knife has been provided through Spyderco’s Ambassador Program, upon their own request. Thank you to the Spyderpeople for letting me review it and enjoy it.

Enter the Military 2 Salt: Bright, Bold, Unapologetic — yellow and black handle, corrosion-proof attitude, purpose-built for brutal environments.
The Salt line has always been about defiance — defiance of rust, of humidity, of saltwater indifference. But this is not just a “marine” variant. It’s a continuation of a lineage that has consistently served as Spyderco’s testbed for what’s next.
From ATS-34…
To CPM 440V…
To S30V, S90V, S110V…
To the modern exotics.
The Military platform doesn’t chase trends. It previews them.


Fast forward to Gambit my CPM15V “Mother of All Bears” sprint run — a steel with outrageous vanadium content and edge retention that borders on absurd. In many ways, that sprint heat treated by Shawn Houston wasn’t just a collector’s piece. It was a thesis statement.
It said:
The Military platform still exists to push metallurgy forward.
Fifteen percent vanadium. Let that sink in. In the ‘90s, we thought 440C was peak sophistication.
For the record Rambo II Knife was made from 440C.


If the 1996 jump to CPM 440V (some kind of powder steel version of 440C) signaled the start of the particle steel era, then the inevitable future feels clear.
At some point — whether as a sprint or full production — the Military will wear CPM MagnaCut. A steel you can bring to the rain forest where even camera lenses can be eaten by fungi.
And when Spyderco does a Salt, it’s no gimmick. It is the logical next step.


From a certain point of view, MagnaCut represents what ATS-34 once was supposed to be (Chris Reeve’s Sebenza were made of ATS-34) — stainless performance without compromise. Fine carbide structure. Balanced toughness. Real corrosion resistance. Practical edge stability.

As the Military began its journey by embracing the future of steel before the market demanded it, a MagnaCut Military is simply continuing that tradition.

The Military isn’t just another large folder.
It’s a timeline. A flagship. A knife Sal was giving for Eric for his military service.
But also it reflects where the industry was, where it is, and where it’s going.


That beautifully “wasped” Military 2 Salt — with its unapologetic yellow and black scales — stands as a modern chapter in that story: corrosion-proof, high-performance, and unafraid of specialized steels.
For those of us who remember when ATS-34 felt exotic, holding a Military 2 Salt today is a reminder of just how far production knives have come.
And if history is any guide, this won’t be the final evolution.
It never is……. Magnamax ?
Anyway, Magnacut is a wonderful tough steel

There is, however, one issue with the Spyderco Military 2 Salt — and it’s not the steel, the ergonomy or the lock which came with zero lock stick BTW.

It’s the clip placement. As you can see no clip can reach that central flat spot. It stays on the grooves !

“The meticulously machined Caribbean Bi-Directional Texture pattern not only ensures a secure, non-slip grip, but also reveals the scales’ alternating black and yellow layers to enhance the knife’s visibility in and around the water.”

Yes but that yellow/black Salt version retains the aggressive, highly contoured handle geometry that makes the Spyderco Caribbean such a secure tools in wet environment.
“The Caribbean’s blade is housed in a vibrantly colored handle featuring scales crafted from layered black and yellow G-10. Their intricately machined pattern provides a non-slip texture and reveals the contrasting colors to create a high-visibility striped design. “



Those scales are not flat which is “handy” especially in wet or gloved conditions. From a grip standpoint, it’s outstanding. The ergonomics are purposeful. No question.
But the clip sppon is mounted across a section of handle that isn’t truly flat. And that matters for me.

That handle creates localized tension points. In pocket draws and insertion, that translates into friction. And friction, over time, translates into shredded fabric !!

For a knife that’s designed to live in harsh environments, the last thing you want is a clip that behaves like a textile rasp.

For the record, this is not a Salt-series indictment.

Neither the Spyderco Manix 2 Salt nor the Spyderco Paramilitary 2 Salt exhibit this issue.

A low tension deep carry clip helps a lot in my case but your mileage may vary in terms of keeping your pockets pristine…

Anyway performance remains uncompromised.
Having a true all-terrain Military is no longer a niche concept. It’s a must.

The original Spyderco Military was conceived as a purpose-driven field knife — large, lean, unapologetically performance-focused. It wasn’t built for desk duty. It wasn’t built for Instagram. It was built to work.

Today, “field use” doesn’t just mean dry land and predictable climates. It means:

  • Coastal humidity
  • Saltwater exposure
  • Sweat-soaked summer carry
  • Snow, mud, rain
  • Long-term storage in less-than-ideal conditions
  • Kitchen !!

Corrosion resistance is no longer a specialty feature. It’s a baseline requirement for a all terrain purposed tool.
Low maintenance is a true luxury.

All inner parts are coated but the stop pin and the washers.
Notice that beautiful G10 layers a tour-de-force.
The nested liners being all coated there is no excuse to use that knife in wet environment.

That’s why the Spyderco Military 2 Salt matters.

It closes the loop of reliability through 3 decades.
The Military platform has always chased the frontier of steel performance — from ATS-34 to particle metallurgy, from high-vanadium experiments to modern wear monsters. But performance isn’t just edge retention charts and carbide percentages. Real performance includes survivability.

An all-terrain Military folder means:

  • A blade steel that shrugs off salt and sweat
  • Hardware that resists oxidation
  • A platform you don’t have to baby

It becomes a knife you can carry on a boat, on a mountain, in tropical humidity, or clipped inside gym shorts without thinking about it. The list goes on but you catch my drift. The Military is a big light hardchore folder ready to get dirty.
And that last part is key: without thinking about it.

Because the ultimate evolution of a military all terrain tool isn’t higher hardness.
It isn’t more vanadium.
It isn’t better CATRA numbers.
It’s freedom from worry !

The Spyderco Military 2 Salt benefits enormously from the Compression Lock. The action is smooth, controlled, and confidence-inspiring. Opening is fluid. Closing is effortless and safe. Lockup is rock solid — zero play, zero drama.
It feels modern and mechanical in the best possible way.


Compare that to the Spyderco Native Chief Salt Lightweight, and you’re in a different world. Back lock instead of Compression Lock. A more traditional cadence. A different relationship between hand and blade.
Both are outstanding knives. Choosing a favorite isn’t about quality — it’s about preference.
The Lightweight Native Chief is that good. 😉

The same goes for the Spyderco Sage 5 Salt.
Compact. Refined. Exceptionally balanced. In Salt configuration, it becomes one of the most complete corrosion-resistant EDCs available today.
At this level, it’s no longer about which one is better.
It’s about which one feels like yours.

The Military was once the knife that introduced mainstream users to particle metallurgy. Now, in Salt form, the Military 2 introduces the idea that a full-size, high-performance folder should be truly “environment-agnostic”.

And if we’re honest — for a knife with “Military” in its name — that capability feels less like an upgrade and more like destiny.


I had named my CPM M4 Millie “Ghost.”
My grey CPM CruWear Millie became “Gandalf.”
My current 15V Military 2 is “Gambit.”
So the salty one needed a name too.
And it had to start with a G.
It will be “Gurney”.
Gurney Halleck in frank Herbert’s Dune isn’t the flashy hero. He’s not mysticism and prophecy. He’s discipline. Loyalty. Hardened competence. A loyal warrior-poet who survives harsh worlds through skill and resilience.

That’s exactly what the Spyderco Military 2 Salt represents.
Not ornamental.
Not fragile.
Not trendy.

It’s a knife built for hostile environments. A blade you trust when conditions turn abrasive. There’s something very Arrakis about a corrosion-proof Military: survival through preparation.

“Behold, as a wild ass in the desert, go I forth to my work.”

Folders, Review

Spyderco Endela in Spy27 – 2026 Minimeet Gift.

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In the rarefied world of enthusiast gatherings, certain objects transcend their function to become emblems. At the 19th Minimeet of 2026, that emblem arrived in a flash of satin steel and unmistakable silhouette: the Endela, rendered in CPM Spy27.

This year’s gift was no ordinary edition, no routine variation in a catalog of many. It was a gesture—considered, knowing, and deeply rooted in heritage. A gift that spoke fluent Spyderco from A to Z with a bit of Japanese.

Designed by Sal Glesser, the Endela, positioned between the compact Delica and the longer Endura, has always embodied balance: long enough to command presence, slim enough to disappear into a pocket. In this iteration, its lines were amplified by a full flat grind (FFG), that signature tapering geometry that flows from spine to edge in one continuous, purposeful plane. The result is a blade that slices with authority yet retains the structural confidence expected from a serious cutting tool.

But the true poetry lies in the steel which I have covered in my UKPK article AKA “the Golden Child”.

(I have taken this from Humint in that thread on the Bladeforums)

CPM Spy27 is not merely another powdered metallurgy alloy; it is an insider’s composition, born from collaboration and conviction. Developed as a proprietary formula, Spy27 was conceived as a modern evolution in performance stainless steel—often described as a powdered metallurgy answer to the spirit of VG-10, yet unmistakably contemporary in its balance of edge retention, corrosion resistance, and toughness. Engineered through Crucible’s particle metallurgy process—before the company’s bankruptcy reshaped the landscape—it stands as the product of a singular joint venture and a fleeting industrial moment.

Spy27 is, in many ways, a manifesto: a steel created not simply to follow trends, but to refine the brand’s own philosophy of practical performance. Fine carbides for clean, aggressive slicing. Stainless resilience for daily carry. A hardness profile that rewards precision sharpening while maintaining field durability. In hand, it feels deliberate—neither brittle nor indulgently soft. It is steel tuned to the cadence of real use. And God, it loves leather stropping.

You cannot get more “Spyderco’s roots” than this. Made in Japan (like in the 80’s), paired with the unmistakable round hole—Spyderco’s totemic opening device—and a “spoon clip” ready for pocket carry, the Endela in CPM Spy27 becomes more than a knife. It becomes a statement of identity. The FFG geometry ensures that the blade glides through material with elegant efficiency, while the ergonomics—subtle finger choil, textured scales, carefully considered weight—anchor the experience in control.

At a Minimeet, the gift is never just about value. It is about friendship. About shared language. About the unspoken understanding between those who appreciate grind lines, heat treatments, and the quiet satisfaction of a perfectly executed edge of our favorite performance knives.

The Endela came out of the box with the kind of edge that makes you pause for half a second before testing it. Not because you doubt it—but because you already know: this is the Way !

Factory sharpness can be a vague promise in this industry. Here, it was a statement. Kuddos to the Seki factory ! The blade arrived as an aggressive razor, keen and un-apolo-getic, the apex refined to the point where it would silently treetop arm hair without pressure. Not tear. Not tug. Simply pop. Hair fell away at the slightest whisper of contact.

This wasn’t just shaving sharp; it was hair-popping sharp.

It slices through plastic as though the material had lost all resistance—gliding, parting, yielding without protest. There is a particular sound when a blade meets dense plastic packaging: usually a faint crackle, a hesitant drag. Here, there was only a smooth, uninterrupted whisper. The edge didn’t force its way in; it entered decisively and continued with almost disconcerting ease, as if the medium itself had become incidental.

That kind of performance is not accidental. It is the result of geometry meeting metallurgy in perfect accord.

As my friend Robin observed—accurately and without exaggeration—the level of sharpness coming out of the Seki factories has noticeably risen since the K390 batches. Something shifted during that era. Whether it was refinement in heat treatment protocols, greater consistency in final sharpening stages, or simply a renewed culture of precision, the outcome is tangible. Blades now leave the factory with an apex that feels more deliberate, more aggressive, more controlled.

The legacy of those early K390 runs set a new internal benchmark. What we’re seeing now is the continuation of that standard applied across steels—Spy27 included. The edges are cleaner, the bevels more disciplined, the bite more assertive right out of the box.

This year, which is also the 50th anniversary from Spyderco, that understanding came wrapped in Spy27.
So what do we got:
A steel born of collaboration.
A grind that defines a house style.
A silhouette instantly recognizable across continents.
For the 19th Minimeet of 2026, the Endela was not simply offered—it was bestowed.

And in doing so, it reaffirmed what true connoisseurs already know: luxury is not always gold and gloss. Sometimes, it is the cool, matte sheen of a perfectly ground blade, engineered with intent and carried with pride. Thank you for that beautiful gift.

(Photos from the Minimeet by Guillaume GX)

Folders, Review

Spyderco Manix 2 Salt – A Welcome Overkill

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The funniest part about using the Manix 2 Salt is remembering how this model first came into being at Spyderco—and how well it has matured over time, much like your humble narrator and its designer, Eric Glesser. We’re not getting any younger! 🙂
For that, you can refer back to my previous article dedicated to this knife.

“An extremely capable full-sized folder that is ready for the toughest challenges.”

It’s either a survival-kit essential or an EDC that has earned deep respect over the decades since its creation. And that’s pretty cool. This workhorse remains a bestseller at Spyderco because it radiates reliability and performance.

Its few drawbacks? The space it occupies in the pocket—which really deserves to be dedicated to it entirely—and the lack of tip-down carry. Which means no “Spyderdrop,” unlike the Military for example—one of the most elegant ways to open a Spyderco (Grab it by the Spyderhole!).

At its core, the Manix brings three key elements that truly make the difference: a blade clearly oriented toward performance—neither overly thick nor compromised, with a tall full flat grind; a rock-solid lock that effectively turns it into a fixed blade once engaged and a drop chuting action when closing; and ergonomics so well thought out that, no matter the wet and oily situation, this knife simply refuses to escape your hand.

Disclaimer: The Manix 2 Salt has been provided through Spyderco’s Ambassador Program, upon my own request. Thank you to the Spyderpeople for letting me review it.


The Manix 2 Salt black G-10 handle is fully peel-ply-textured (mixed with Spyderco’s signature Caribbean Bi-Directional Texture™ pattern) and exceptionally grippy and yet surprisingly never abrasive to my denim pocket’s seams — a balance made possible by a thoughtful clip placement because, really, on the paper I was certain that folder would be a competitive pocket shredder !!

That said, this very design becomes a limitation if one considers swapping to a deep-carry clip: the clip would no longer land on the scale’s soft flat spot, potentially creating unwanted friction against the pocket lip. For this reason, I chose to keep the original clip. In practice, it delivers remarkably smooth in-and-out pocket action—arguably even smoother than the Edgerati.
This is still a mystery to me but that ultra grippy Manix 2 Salt G10 is actually very pocket friendly !

Now, for the past few weeks, the Salt—which is arguably the most badass version of the Manix 2 (alongside the Crucarta, which elevates it beautifully in the patina departement, or perhaps a few Sprint runs like the mighty CPM-15V brown g-10 version)—has been jumping into my pocket for real use. As you know, the Edgerati, thanks to its novelty and sheer pleasure of use, has had a tendency to evict several knives from my rotation: the Military 2 in CPM-15V, the Caly 2, the Chief in Magnacut, the Sage Salt… and inevitably, the poor Manix 2 Salt G10, which had the bad luck of arriving at the same time.

But then it hit me: if I see the Edgerati as a BMW X3—powerful, lightweight, and all-terrain—then the Manix 2 Salt is clearly a Land Rover Defender. After all, it came here to suffer… so let’s make it suffer.

And so far, it comes out with flying colors.
Like a Tenacious, this knife is here to work—no matter the conditions.
It brings back that familiar, no-nonsense feeling I used to get from the old Cold Steel Recon 1 and its mighty Triad Lock.



About the Manix 2’s lock, I was worried the mechanism might seize up with dirt or mud, but since the Salt laughs at moisture, soaking it in water is a non-issue. In the kitchen, it also encountered oily situations. Once again, the new G10 scales on the Salt provide excellent traction when drawing it from the pocket—which is definitely not the case with my titanium Squeak, an outstanding little bar of soap when my fingers are wet or greasy…

I did notice a small “click” when opening. I have the same thing on the carbon fiber CPM S90V version, though it’s less pronounced. It’s not a problem at all—just the mechanism doing its thing.

There is also something I forgot to mention—and it is far from a minor detail. The Manix lock does not rely on a detent ball to keep the blade closed in the handle. Much like a traditional back lock, spring tension alone holds the blade securely shut. It may seem subtle, but the implication is significant: closing force is applied even if the blade is slightly out of position. This provides an additional layer of safety—one that should not be underestimated, especially in demanding or unpredictable conditions.
And as mentioned in my previous article on the Manix Salt, the very first Manix models were built around a Martial Blade Craft–grade back lock—thick, overbuilt, and driven by an exceptionally strong spring. That DNA is still there. The Manix 2 lock clearly inherits that same philosophy of power, security, and mechanical confidence.
This is also what makes the Ball Bearing Lock™ so reassuring: safety.


During my homemade bottle butt geometry test—driving the blade straight through the bottom of a plastic bottle, where the material is at its thickest—I found that the Manix 2 could do a tad better. Where the Edgerati (a thicker blade though) passed this test straight out of the box, the thinner Manix 2 Salt required a bit more encouragement. I therefore decided to de-shoulder the edge slightly to thin it out, and the improvement was immediately noticeable. As usual, in ten minutes, small adjustment, but one that significantly enhanced its geometry and cutting performance.
Also I have not been able to scratch that DLC blade so far.

It also made me wonder whether this knife could genuinely appeal to a diver. How intuitive would it be to deploy and use underwater? To answer that question properly, I decided to ask Geoffrey—the head of Normandeep, a professional diver and rescue specialist operating off the Normandy coast, near the D-Day beaches

“The relevance of folding knives in diving is not always obvious.
Accessibility and storage can be an issue, especially when wearing thick gloves.
That said, the Manix is probably the least compromised option, as its lock is the easiest to operate of them all—even with gloves on. For a travelling diver, it could make sense: a knife that transitions from backpack carry during walks to a diving knife clipped to a buoyancy compensator.

Beyond diving, there’s also the nautical world—sailors, fishermen, boating in general—where this kind of knife becomes genuinely relevant. In that context, it makes a lot of sense.”

In the end, the Manix 2 remains faithful to its original ambition: to be a tool first, without apology or compromise. It does not follow trends, nor does it seek to charm through superficial refinement. Its appeal lies elsewhere—in disciplined geometry, a locking system of unquestionable security, and ergonomics conceived to ensure the blade stays exactly where it should: firmly at work in the hand.

In its Salt configuration, these virtues are elevated rather than altered. Moisture, mud, oil, even neglect, fail to disturb its composure. It can be rinsed, returned to service, and trusted again without ritual or concern. Such quiet confidence is rare, and it explains why the Manix platform has not merely survived the years, but matured with them.

It may not be the most discreet companion, nor the most elegant silhouette in Spyderco’s catalogue. Yet when conditions degrade and reliability takes precedence over finesse, the Manix 2 asserts itself with calm authority. Like any true instrument of work, it earns respect not through promise, but through repetition.

And that, ultimately, is why the Manix 2 remains a reference—quietly indispensable, and entirely earned.

Advice, Folders, Review

Spyderco Edgerati part 2 – The KWEMRP That Commands Attention !

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The Edgerati is a knife meant to be seen. Concealed use is not its calling; it is designed to be displayed. This intent is immediately evident in the intricacy of its handle, crafted from aerospace-grade aluminum—a material currently coveted in both automotive and mobile technology. Its aesthetic is at once modern and authoritative, a subtle nod to industrial sophistication.


This folding cutting tool feels as though it stepped straight out of a James Cameron film—somewhere between The Terminator, Aliens, and Avatar. With its feather-light, aerospace-grade construction and unapologetically high-tech design, it belongs as naturally on Pandora—clipped to the gear of a frontier colonist—as it does in the pocket of a discerning collector. Sleek, precise, and unmistakably futuristic, it carries the kind of visual authority that would make it an effortless on-screen presence: a prop that doesn’t just look the part, but performs with the same credibility in the real world as it would under cinematic scrutiny.

The clip positions the knife prominently in the pocket, foregoing deep-carry discretion for confident visibility. For those who prioritize subtlety, this may give pause—but the Edgerati embraces its presence unapologetically. Lightweight yet commanding, it wears its virtues with pride.

What truly surprised me was the Edgerati’s rare equilibrium between strength and comfort—its balance giving the knife an almost living presence in the hand. I had anticipated something more cumbersome, even imagined that maintenance might prove tedious, yet the opposite is true. The Edgerati feels intuitive, effortless. Whether in the kitchen or deep in the wilderness, it performs like a seasoned workhorse. The blade deploys with immediacy and closes with a swift, reassuring snap, reinforcing the impression of a tool engineered with equal measures of precision and confidence. It’s the kind of knife my friend Sancho would appreciate—always eager to move fast and light, even when chasing joggers. (This is indeed a private joke… Sancho doesn’t actually run—he ambushes them.)

The geometry of the blade underscores its reliability: it cuts deep, precise, and confidently. Out of the box, the factory edge is nothing short of perfect—a testament to the meticulous craftsmanship that defines the Edgerati.


There is, admittedly, one small point of contention. While the S30V blade—expertly heat-treated by Spyderco—represents one of the finest expressions of this steel, I couldn’t help wishing for something a touch more adventurous. To be clear, CPM S30V remains a benchmark alloy, purpose-built for cutlery and still remarkably relevant. Yet today, we live in an era blessed with extraordinary newcomers—Magnacut, or even CPM MagnaMax. One can’t help but imagine, just for a moment, what the Edgerati would feel like straight out of the box with a MagnaMax blade: a true thunderclap, a statement heard across the knife world. For now, that dream must wait—but it certainly makes the prospect of future Sprint runs all the more tantalizing.

In the kitchen, hands are often wet—or worse, slick with oil. This is the ultimate test of a knife’s ergonomics: can it be drawn from the pocket and handled with confidence, without any risk of slipping? The Edgerati answers that challenge effortlessly. Its handle offers a subtle, almost rubber-like tactility under the fingers, and once in hand, it seems to lock naturally into the palm, inspiring immediate control even in the most slippery conditions. Just as importantly, its open construction makes the knife remarkably easy to clean under running water, while full access to the mechanical components simplifies maintenance and lubrication—practical virtues that reinforce its status as a true everyday tool.

And so, maintenance remains refreshingly straightforward: a single drop of oil can be applied directly to the detent ball path, ensuring consistently smooth action without the need to disassemble the knife. This is a clear advantage afforded by the knife’s unique design, offering genuine, everyday value to the end hard user.

I brought along my 1990s ATS-34 Sebenza and my Falcon to compare the weight and feel of these classic titanium-frame folders against the lightweight, aluminum-framed Edgerati.

The contrast is immediate: the Edgerati feels astonishingly light and well balanced in the hand, yet without ever compromising solidity or control.
Rest assured, I also appreciate the reassuring heft in the hand when handling “Honor”, and it’s precisely what made the Sebenza so successful: a sharp, reliable tool that is simple to disassemble, clean, and sterilize. (Click the links to explore its full history.)
And for the record, the Massdrop Falcon is the knife that ultimately prompted me to retire both the Techno 1 and Techno 2 from my “compact, robust folder” rotation. And truly—it’s that good.

I had initial concerns about that aluminum coating, but so far it has proven remarkably resilient. It shows no fragility, and the minor signs of wear blend seamlessly into the overall aesthetic. This is a knife that seems destined to age gracefully, acquiring character without compromising its refined appeal.

For those who appreciate a personal touch, customization is not merely possible—it becomes transformative. I chose to slightly round the spine of the blade, softening its edges and taming the aggressive upper jimping, using nothing more than a simple, coarse €5 diamond file. The result is subtle yet meaningful, enhancing comfort without compromising the knife’s character, and reinforcing the idea that the Edgerati welcomes thoughtful, owner-driven refinement.

Using the straight spine of the blade to push or gather ingredients on the cutting board is another advantage the Edgerati offers—something you simply can’t do with the Bodacious or the Shaman.



At 3.7 mm, the blade thickness may sound substantial on paper, yet the reality is far more nuanced. The Edgerati features a tall blade with a full flat grind, resulting in a geometry that is uncompromising straight out of the box. Thanks to its pronounced distal taper, the blade thins rapidly, delivering excellent cutting performance without any sense of excess material behind the edge. In that respect, it recalls me my Lil’ Temperance—4 mm thick, yet tall and very efficient. On a blade of this height, 3.7 mm translates to razor sharpness, with no penalty in use.
By contrast, the Shaman’s high saber grind required significant reprofiling to suit my preferences. Not so with the Edgerati—much to my own surprise. And considering that I routinely pair it with a Chaparral, one can easily gauge just how deeply I appreciate thin, efficient blade geometry.

The result is subtle yet immediately perceptible under the fingers, elevating both comfort and control and transforming the knife into something truly bespoke. The ability to tailor the Edgerati to one’s own preferences is not a mere convenience—it is an integral part of the ownership experience.

The Edgerati has proven itself a consummate workhorse, commanding respect far beyond the display case. It moves effortlessly from the precision of the kitchen—slicing sun-ripened tomatoes or conquering a stubborn squash—with the same grace and efficiency it demonstrates in the field, whether filleting fish, shaping kindling, or executing impromptu repairs.

Through every challenge—pictured here during my now-infamous “butt bottle” test—the blade retains its razor-sharp edge and the handle shows no sign of strain, a quiet testament to the knife’s meticulous engineering. It is a piece that draws admiration, and occasionally amazement, at first glance, yet continues to thrive under the most demanding real-world conditions—a rare and compelling union of refined elegance and enduring, work-ready reliability. This blade feels unmistakably powerful the moment it meets material.
Thanks to its more pronounced point and more efficient overall geometry, the Edgerati delivers deeper, more decisive cuts with noticeably less effort than the Shaman. Again, in my experience, every Shaman I’ve owned required edge refinement to meet my expectations; with the Edgerati, no such intervention has been necessary, to my own surprise.

In short, the Edgerati is not merely another elaborately designed folder, nor simply a lighter reinterpretation of the Spyderco Shaman; it is a statement of modern design—a precise balance of form and function that commands attention while delivering uncompromising performance.
One might even call it a KWEMRP: a Knife Where Elegance Meets Rugged Performance. 😉.

And here’s a video clip featuring Sonoya Mizuno that could have inspired the Edgerati’s design:

Also another design which is totally Sal Glesser passion: MACAN BOATS Aluminium Yacht and… they are Italians !!
Their aluminum construction is based on a mixed system of transverse and longitudinal framing, executed to the highest standards of quality. All scantlings are calculated and implemented in strict conformity with naval architect specifications, ensuring optimal structural integrity while preserving weight efficiency. Aluminum’s exceptional strength-to-weight ratio is central to this approach.

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Welding is carried out by highly trained professionals recognized among the most experienced in the industry. Hull plating is assembled with exceptional precision, resulting in a fair, true hull that requires minimal fairing compound—reflecting both structural excellence and refined craftsmanship.
For them too, aluminium is the future, really.