Tag Archives: EDC

Reprofiling Intent: Turning the Yojimbo 2 into a Woodcraft Tool

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:
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

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

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.

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


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.”

Patrick Bonetta’s Kitchen Warrior “Birdy” – The Essential Edge of Haute Cuisine.

Disclaimer: This knife has been provided through Patrick Bonetta ‘s friendship. Thank you to him for letting me review it. 😉

In a professional brigade, hierarchy is everything. Precision is everything. And above all, the paring knife is sacred.

The very first lesson in any serious kitchen is this: the couteau d’office is the cook’s most precious tool. It is the instrument that never leaves your side, the blade that performs the quiet, relentless choreography of peeling, trimming, turning, scoring. Before the grand gestures of service, before the spectacle of plating, there is this small blade—and the discipline it demands.

Hygiene, of course, is non-negotiable. In that environment, a folding knife is an indulgence the brigade cannot afford. A fixed blade is imperative—clean lines, no hidden cavities, nothing that compromises sanitation. Form follows function, and function follows rigor.

Yet the realities of service introduce their own hazards. A paring knife can disappear in an instant—swept toward the bin with a cascade of peelings, or carelessly dropped into a drawer where other blades wait to bruise its edge. In a kitchen moving at full tempo, neglect is not malicious; it is simply inevitable.

The solution is as elegant as it is practical: keep the blade on you. Always. Within reach. Around the neck, suspended discreetly yet ready in a heartbeat. Thus was born the idea of a refined thin neck knife—an ultra-thin, fixed blade forged in chrome-vanadium steel, equivalent in spirit and performance to Nitrum from Arcos. Fine-grained, corrosion-resistant, responsive to sharpening, it offers the clean bite and resilience demanded by daily service.

On the right is her brother AKA the Tactical Parking Knife reviewed here.

This is not a novelty. It is a working instrument—one now worn by internationally renowned chefs, among them the celebrated Alain Ducasse, who commissioned several for his own use. In kitchens where standards are uncompromising and reputations global, tools are chosen not for ornament but for excellence.

And excellence is precisely what defines Patrick Bonetta. Perfectionist by philosophy, the house approaches finishing and ergonomics with almost obsessive care. The balance is intuitive. The Birdy’s grip—secure without fatigue. The transitions between handle and blade—flawless. Nothing is left unresolved.

The result is “Birdy”, a paring knife elevated to high craft: a lil’marvel of proportion and purpose. In the kitchen, it slices, peels, and minces with fluid authority. It becomes an extension of the hand, a silent accomplice to high precision cuts… or not. 😉

True luxury in gastronomy is not spectacle. It is control.
And control begins with the right blade.

– The two last photo (c)Patrick Bonetta —

Spyderco Endela in Spy27 – 2026 Minimeet Gift.

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)

MANTRA™ 2 Titanium – C203TI – Still alive and kicking ?

In 2026, does the decade-old Mantra 2 still have what it takes to stay relevant?

(For the record, the Spyderco Mantra 2 is a flipper-style folding knife. It features ergonomic twin titanium handle scales, a robust Reeve Integral Lock, and a lightweight open-backed construction. Its narrow drop-point profile suits a wide range of cutting tasks, and it opens quickly via an integral flipper and ball-bearing pivot.)

This question inevitably comes to mind when placing it next to the Edgerati, you know ? It’s that beautifully executed modern lightweight workhorse that embodies contemporary folding-knife design. On the surface, the comparison might seem unfair. The Mantra 2 belongs to an earlier design generation, one that predates today’s obsession with extreme lightness and visual minimalism. Yet, in actual use, the gap is far narrower than expected.

One aspect where Eric Glesser’s design continues to impress me is that blade-to-handle ratio. It remains among the most efficient in its class, extracting maximum cutting edge from a remarkably compact footprint. This efficiency translates directly into real-world ergonomics, with no sense of compromise in grip or control.

Pocket carry is another domain in which the Mantra 2 quietly exceeds expectations. Its footprint is remarkably discreet—once clipped in place, the slim, folded knife nearly vanishes. In daily carry, it becomes an almost invisible companion, a subtlety that even many newer designs struggle to achieve despite advances in materials and manufacturing.

A decade on, the Mantra 2 shows no signs of obsolescence. Rather, it stands as a testament to the enduring value of thoughtful fundamentals and intelligent proportions, which age far more gracefully than fleeting trends. It has been wielded in the kitchen, carried deep into the woods, relied upon as a traveling companion, and pressed hard into demanding materials—yet it continues to perform flawlessly, a quiet tribute to its lasting design.

Along the way, I decided to upgrade the Mantra 2 with a shorter mini pocket clip—the kind found on the Lil’ Native Compression Lock, the Microjimbo, or the Dragonfly. A seemingly minor adjustment, it nevertheless has a surprisingly tangible impact on daily carry, subtly refining accessibility and pocket presence without altering the knife’s elegant proportions.

The shorter clip further reduces the knife’s visual footprint in the pocket, enhancing an already discreet carry profile. More importantly, it improves comfort in motion, removing any unnecessary contact points while preserving secure retention, making the Mantra 2 feel almost weightless and effortless throughout the day.

This small modification feels entirely in line with the original design philosophy of the Mantra 2: efficiency over excess, function over spectacle. Rather than altering the knife’s character, the shorter clip refines it, subtly updating the platform without betraying its intent.

In a way, this simple upgrade underscores the enduring strength of the Mantra 2’s design. A decade on, the knife requires no reinvention—its fundamentals remain exemplary. One minor critique persists: I’ve never been particularly fond of the small Trademark Round Hole™, which tends to trap debris and demands occasional cleaning. Personally, I would have preferred a simple laser-engraved circle as Spyderco’s signature—subtle, elegant, and maintenance-free.

Even so, the knife’s core mechanics continue to impress. After ten years of regular use, the liner lock has not shifted a single bit. Its stability and reliability remain flawless, a quiet testament to Spyderco’s engineering and the robustness of the Reeve Integral Lock.

It is also worth remembering that the Mantra 2’s blade is crafted from CPM M4, a choice that says a great deal about the era—and the intent—behind the design. At the time, M4 was far from a marketing buzzword. It was selected for performance, not for trend alignment.

In use, CPM M4 still delivers what made it so respected: outstanding edge retention, a fine, aggressive cutting feel, and a toughness that inspires confidence during harder, more demanding tasks. Even when compared to newer powder metallurgy steels, it remains deeply relevant, particularly for users who prioritize cutting performance over corrosion resistance.

On this particular example, the steel is allowed to fully express its potential thanks to the work of my friend JD, who polished and sharpened the blade with remarkable efficiency. His edge work brings out everything M4 has to offer, resulting in a cutting performance that feels both refined and uncompromising. His skill is undeniable, and it shows immediately in use.

Of course, M4 comes with its own expectations. It asks for a certain level of care, a willingness to maintain the blade and accept patina as part of its character. Yet this trade-off feels entirely coherent with the Mantra 2’s tool-first philosophy. Rather than chasing stainless convenience, it embraces performance and durability.

A decade on, the CPM M4 blade reinforces the sense that the Mantra 2 was designed as a serious cutting instrument first—and as an object of design second. In 2026, that approach feels less dated than it does refreshingly honest.

Set against the PITS 2 in Böhler M398, the Mantra 2 reveals just how differently two knives can approach the same everyday cutting mission. Where the PITS 2 leans heavily into modern metallurgy, with M398 offering extreme edge retention and near-total corrosion resistance, the Mantra 2 counters with a more tactile, tool-driven philosophy embodied by CPM M4.

The PITS 2 feels engineered for low-maintenance efficiency: a steel designed to hold an edge seemingly forever, largely indifferent to environment or neglect. In contrast, the Mantra 2 demands engagement. Its M4 blade rewards attention, maintenance, and sharpening skill with a cutting feel that remains distinctly more aggressive and communicative.

In practical terms, the difference is less about absolute performance and more about attitude. The PITS 2 represents the pinnacle of contemporary refinement—clean, controlled, and technically flawless. The Mantra 2, meanwhile, feels more alive. It is a knife that invites use, interaction, and care, developing character over time rather than resisting it.

In 2026, choosing between the two is not a question of old versus new, but of values. The PITS 2 in M398 showcases where modern EDC design has arrived. The Mantra 2 in CPM M4 reminds us why performance-driven fundamentals still matter—and why some designs age not by fading, but by deepening.

Ultimately, the Mantra 2 (linked to JD review)remains an outstanding choice in 2026. Its exceptional blade-to-handle ratio and discreet, effortless portability continue to set a benchmark that many newer designs still struggle to match.

Notably, my own example—part of the very first generation—has never exhibited the slightest issue with its ball-bearing pivot. A decade on, it operates with the same smoothness and reliability as it did out of the box.

Proof, if any were needed, that strong proportions, intelligent engineering, and a focus on real-world use can stand the test of time.
The Mantra 2 is a pure flipper workhorse.

Spyderco Edgerati – The Power and The Passion.

Disclaimer: this a first glimpse at the Edgerati provided through the Ambassador’s Program.


Sal Glesser is an inventor driven by passion. His love for performance in general, high-performance sports cars, and sailing races is reflected in every one of his creations.

His knives are known for their radical aesthetics and their uncompromising performance, always respecting the fundamental purpose of an edged tool. He is also recognized for taking his time, developing and testing numerous prototypes before releasing a new design.

For this knife, his inspiration comes from the world of sports cars—more precisely from the legendary Maserati Birdcage.

Masten Gregory deftly guides his British Racing Partnership 19 (#953) through The Corkscrew at Laguna Seca during the 1962 Pacific Grand Prix. Dan Gurney and Lloyd Ruby each won one of the weekendÕs two heats in other 19s, but overall honors fell to Roger PenskeÕs Zerex Cooper. Photo: Willem Oosthoek Collection

Produced between 1959 and 1961 for privateers competing in endurance racing, including the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the Birdcage was available in 2-litre and 3-litre configurations. Its name came from its revolutionary tubular space-frame chassis, made of roughly 200 chrome-moly steel tubes welded together in triangular formations at high-stress points. This construction method resulted in a chassis that was both lighter and significantly more rigid than anything else on the grid at the time.

Why not apply this design philosophy—and this obsession with performance—to a knife?

This is not Sal’s first attempt at creating an ultra-light, all-metal folding knife. I remember his “R” model, for instance.

I was never a real fan of the approach that consists of punching a spider-web of holes through both the handle and the blade. I understood the intention, the démarche, but as a user, it never convinced me. All those holes meant a knife that was constantly dirty, always in need of rinsing and cleaning… and, well, not my cup of tea.

So you can imagine my skepticism when the Edgerati was first revealed. The steel itself was not some exotic new alloy, and the handle seemed to scream: wash me under the tap and rinse me after every use.

I was wrong.

The moment I first held the Edgerati changed everything. At least two people—Mason and Robin—insisted that it was something you had to experience in hand. They were absolutely right. The knife is incredibly light, yet somehow feels substantial at the same time. My first impression was purely tactile. That beautiful clip point blade and those great ergos, the Edgerati is a bold move.

Because its handle is not thin, but thick enough to feel genuinely comfortable and secure for hard chores. That was the first excellent surprise: how this Birdcage homage actually translates into ergonomics. The aluminium feels warm under the fingers, and the triangular cut-outs provide excellent grip and retention.

The thick handle, combined with the complete absence of hot spots, makes it perfectly suited for hard use. Kudos to Sal—this is the work of someone who knows how to design a true tool, not just eye candy.

The action is smooth, with zero blade play. It feels extremely solid—reassuringly so.
On closer inspection, the Edgerati could almost be described as a Shaman stripped down and laid bare. The two knives share the same overall profile, down to the last screw.

(screenshot taken from CRBx video “Spyderco EDGERATI: Shaman in SEXY lace?”)

Spotted on Reddit: birds of a feather flock together—and it turns out there’s even the possibility of swapping blades with a Shaman (thanks to Armand for the heads-up).

I have asked to Golden.
— Imagine a Shaman Magnacut blade on that handle ?
— I have to admit. I’ve done the swap. The thicker blade stock on the Shaman throws off the balance, and the detents are not a perfect 1:1
It’s possible to flip the blade out, just with holding the handles and flicking your wrist. The Edgerati blade in Shaman scales is a nice treat though. Unfortunately, the Shaman in the Edgerati frame doesn’t work nearly as well.


So, you are warned.


And yes, we also get the rare opportunity to see now inside the “engine” of the knife. One major advantage is the ability to fully clean it after dirty or demanding tasks. The Compression Lock remains a small masterpiece of engineering and operates with real authority. The spine of the handle, if I may put it that way, truly feels like an aircraft carrier for the hand—broad, stable, and extremely reassuring.

Beauty is, of course, in the eye of the beholder, but this is undeniably a beautiful knife once you get used to that “Eiffel Tower’s effect”. The pictures speak for themselves. It does not project “tactical” vibes; instead, it feels like a refined, high-tech engineer’s cutting tool. I can easily see it appealing to hikers who carefully count every gram they carry. Its versatility could also attract cyberpolice officers, climate change firefighters, alien hunters—and even starship troopers, for whom weight savings are critical, like astronauts. That may explain why it is also available in a full-black, partially serrated configuration. It is a toolish delicacy. A very capable solid reliable lightweight tool. Very very light and powerful !!

Aluminium (and its lightness and its structural resistance) is very much in fashion in 2025. Apple, for instance, uses aluminium chassis on their iPhones 17 Pro because aluminium is light, solid, rust free and an excellent thermal conductor. Coated aluminium, however, is also known for scratching easily. It willmark over time, and the pristine, “brand-new” look of the Edgerati’s handle is clearly not meant to last. Instead, the knife will develop what I would call a “war patina”—the visible proof of use. The Edgerati will become personalized quickly, for better or worse. Sanding the handle might eventually help even things out, but scratches are inevitable if that kind of wear bothers you.

If there is one aspect I am not entirely happy with so far, it is the pocket clip. It’s the same heavy-duty style clip found on models like the Shaman, the Tenacious or the Lil’ Temperance. This means the knife sits proud in the pocket, and replacing the clip with a third-party option is not straightforward. On my sample it is also not particularly easy to slide in and out of the pocket. I’ll see later how—or if—I can improve this by slightly bending it.

All in all, I genuinely thought the Edgerati would be a collector’s piece—a “safe queen,” and therefore not really my thing. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The Edgerati is a user, through and through: an ultra-light, ultra-solid tool with a genuinely utilitarian blade in CPM S30V, heat-treated by Golden.
It is very hard not to fall in love with such a unique knife, once you hold it in your hands, especially if you already love its heavyweight brother: the Shaman.
But this Edgerati is a KWEMRP (click on it for the Part 2 of the review and discover what a KWEMRP is in reality…) !

The Shaman design began a long time ago. It took several years to complete and refine the design before I was satisfied. Then the “Bodacious” and “Edgerati” variants were designed to serve what I thought might be requested.
Sal Glesser

“Oh-oh, the power and the passion
Oh-oh, the temper of the time
Oh-oh, the power and the passion
Sometimes you’ve got to take the hardest line”
Midnight Oil.

Edge’s up !

SPYDERCO SQUEAK Part IV – The Micro SlipIt as the only travel knife.

Choosing a travel folder is easy for me — I own quite a few knives of various lengths dedicated to that purpose.
Traveling from France to the UK, however, means avoiding any locking blade and any edge longer than 3 inches (76 mm).

Models like the UKPKMetro, UrbanChaparral Slipjoint, The Roadie, the Manly Wasp, or even the Couteaux des Sorgues or any small Swiss Army Knife, would all fit the bill.

For the record the non locking mechanism of the SlipIts is reviewed in this review here.

But this time, I’ve decided to take the Squeak designed by Sal Glesser. The Titanium/Elmax Sprint Run Jewel. Easy to pocket, One Hand opening are my choice. Usuaully I use a UKPK from Heinie for my UK trips.
This time, it will be the Squeak Deluxe. This micro-folder has been a constant companion in my pocket since 2017, and it’s perfectly watch-pocket friendly — but as my only knife for a road trip? That’s the real question.

I don’t know about you, but my uses for a knife when traveling abroad are many — from cutting labels to sharing a piece of cake.

The first thing I ask from a blade is that it stays very, very low-profile.
deep-carry clip is mandatory in that regard. However, the Squeak’s stock clip isn’t exactly discreet, so I swapped it for a MicroJimbo clip — the same one used on the Lil’ Native — which is noticeably shorter.

Frankly, this shorter clip should come standard on all SlipIt models from the factory!

I often use my EDC knives right on the plate. Eating with a sharp blade is non-negotiable — and most of the time, my wife ends up borrowing mine, so it goes back and forth throughout the meal.

Of course, ceramic plates aren’t exactly a razor edge’s best friends. They can sharpen a blade in spots, but mostly they’ll dull it fast.

For food prep or eating on a plate, my favorite blade shape is the Wharncliffe, since only the tip makes contact with the hard ceramic surface. The MicroJimbo would have been perfect for that — if only it weren’t a locking knife. Honestly, I’d love to see a Wharncliffe SlipIt someday!

For now, the Squeak brings a bit of belly and that razor-sharp Elmax edge. It truly shines with pizza — that perfect mix of soft top and hard crust demands a blade that cuts deep and steady.

I didn’t bring any sharpening stone to touch up the edge, but I found that mostly the tip was the part coming into contact with the ceramic.
With longer blades, I usually tilt the knife slightly to avoid any 90° cuts against the plate. But with the Squeak, I just went at my pizza like a hungry wolf.

The result? A bit of dulling — maybe 1 mm toward the tip — but nothing I actually noticed during the trip.
I sometimes straighten a rolled edge on a mug’s rim or a sink edge, but not this time. I didn’t bother. Elmax isn’t brittle, so there was no real concern anyway.

The tip needs to stay razor sharp, since I also use it to open plastic bags, while I use the edge near the pivot for cutting labels. Despite the dulling, I couldn’t feel any loss of performance on plastic.

Using a short blade naturally means a bit more sawing motion, or sometimes two slashes for one cut — but with the Squeak, that was no issue at all.

Its biggest challenge might have been scones, but with those, I just think twice and cut once!
Even slicing a lemon for tea worked perfectly — I simply rolled the fruit on the board while cutting through it.

All those mundane tasks only proved how essential the Squeak was as our sole cutting tool during our five-day road trip.
It handled every meal — cutting bread for toast, slicing soda bread leaves — and never once did I feel underknived.
The Squeak performed flawlessly in every task, and above all, it was an absolute pleasure to carry and use.

So, does size matter?
In this case, the Squeak has clearly proven itself as both a great travel companion and a perfect EDC for countries that are cautious about knife laws.

Spyderco CALY™ 3.5 – C144CFPE Caly 3.5 ZDP – Part II – Back To The Convex edge !

Disclaimer: The Spyderco Triangle Sharpmaker Diamond Rods Set of 2 – 204D was provided by Golden, along with the Caly 3.5. This article is the perfect opportunity to put them to the test.
The Sharpmaker is my own.

In the parcel from Golden were also two sets of rods: the 204CBN Cubic Boron Nitride rods and the 204D Diamond rods. Since my Caly 3.5 needed some convexing, it was time to see what these rods could do.

But you know, I’m a freehand sharpening guy. I don’t like being locked into fixed angles. I prefer to adjust pressure and movement based on what I feel directly from the blade against the rod. That’s why I’ve never been too fond of “systems” that take control away from your hands.

For me, sharpening should stay super simple, and—most importantly—adaptable. If I’m in the wild, far from the workbench, I still want to be able to bring an edge back with nothing more than a rod, a stone, or even something improvised.

That’s where the Spyderco Sharpmaker is different. It’s a system, yes, but it doesn’t dictate the process. It allows me to sharpen by feel, with freedom, and still gives me the precision I want.

Exactly — and that’s one of those clever little details only Spyderco would think of.

On the back of the Sharpmaker base, you’ve got two horizontal grooves that let you lay the rods flat. In that configuration, the tool basically transforms into a bench stone. With the diamond rods mounted this way, it works like a compact, portable diamond sharpening stone, letting you go full freehand.

So you get both options: the guided 30°/40° setup if you want consistency, and the freehand mode if you prefer to feel the steel, control pressure, and chase your own convex. That versatility is what makes the Sharpmaker more than “just a system.”

The gaffer tape trick is smart: it saves you from accidental slips while keeping the grind line safe. And yes, the 204D diamonds are hungry — they bite into ZDP-189 without hesitation, which also means they’ll scratch anything that touches them. But like you said, a working knife will earn its scars.

Polishing can always bring back some scratchless shine, but what really matters is how the geometry evolves: a little convexing, a thinner edge, and suddenly the Caly 3.5 stops being just elegant — it becomes a laser.

That’s exactly where your knife starts to become yours.

The convexing not only boosts cutting performance but also gives the edge that organic flow — you can see it in the way the bevel catches the light. It’s no longer a factory grind; it’s a living edge shaped by your own hand. It makes the knife more precious.

And by rounding the spine and softening the jimping, you’re turning what could feel harsh into something smoother, almost like a river stone. It transforms the Caly from safe queen into a companion you actually want to use every day, without hotspots or distractions.

Most people underestimate how quickly diamond or CBN rods load up, and how much that affects sharpening efficiency.

Clay stone (terre de Sommières, or even a simple pottery stone) is excellent because it’s mildly abrasive: it lifts out the embedded metal without scratching or damaging the surface of the rods, and it works faster than detergents or erasers.

It’s also in the spirit of my philosophy: keep it simple, practical, field-ready. No fancy cleaners, just a tried-and-true trick that works every time.

Dry chestnut is fibrous and can grab onto a thicker bevel, so the fact that your convexed ZDP-189 now glides “like a razor through butter” is a strong demonstration that the edge mod really paid off.

Convexing changes everything. Once the edge’s shoulders are rounded, the edge stops fighting the wood. No more wedging, just a clean, controlled push cut — like sliding through butter, even in stubborn chestnut.

That’s where ZDP-189 really shines. Most steels would give up at this geometry, folding or rolling. But at 65 HRC, ZDP holds steady. You get the sharpness of a razor without the fragility.

And the Caly 3.5? On paper, it’s a gentleman’s knife. In hand, convexed and sharp, it’s a wolf in disguise. A refined tool that thrives on real work, not just resting pretty in a pocket.
Wood tells one part of the story, but plastic will reveal another — especially the stubborn bottom of a bottle. That’s where I’ll see if this convexed ZDP-189 edge can truly glide without wedging. I’ll update this post as soon as I get the chance to put it through that test.

Spyderco Microjimbo Sprint Run CPM-15V – The Evil Baby Brown Benjamin

Created by Michael Janich, the MicroJimbo takes the iconic Yojimbo 2 design but in a smaller form, making it more legally and practically usable for everyday carry (EDC).
This piece is a true jewel. With an MSRP of $300, it ranks among the most expensive Spydercos when measured by cost per millimeter of edge: just 57 mm. That’s a scale of value I may have to start considering. On the Microjimbo in 15V, for example, each millimeter of edge comes to $5.26, whereas on an Endura in VG10 it’s only $1.56 per millimeter.

Of course, CPM 15V is costly, and two signatures on the blade mean royalties. It’s a jewel, yes—but also a gem in its own right.
No disclaimer on this one, as it was bought by myself at Lamnia in Finland for 237 euros. Great service and it was delivered in France 5 days later.

Action wise, the detent on mine is quite strong, with no lock stick, and the blade drops freely back into the handle. This little folder practically oozes quality.

Compared to my Yojimbo 2, the Microjimbo features a full flat–ground blade with a distal taper—very reminiscent of the first Yojimbo in that regard but with full-flat-ground Wharncliffe style blade, roughly 2.45 inches long.

It is made of Made from CPM-15V, a cold-work tool steel with nearly 15% vanadium, prized for insane wear resistance and edge retention.
The blade is heat-treated using a protocol developed by Shawn Houston, further enhancing its performance with a HRC of 65 (more or less but that’s a lot !).

Ambidextrous, tip-up carry only for the MJ and its reversible deep-pocket short wire clip.

It is equipped with Spyderco’s reliable Compression Lock.

The 3.7 mm thick, stonewashed blade is a beauty—short, sharp, and full of character. The edges aren’t perfectly even toward the tip, but that doesn’t bother me; sooner or later it will be convexed anyway.
After just a couple of passes on leather, the Microjimbo was already delivering a crisp, razor-sharp edge, effortlessly shaving arm hair. And for once with CPM-15V, I was pleasantly surprised at how well the steel responded to stropping.

In my CPM-15V family this little folder is not the one to underestimate.
That blade shape as proven to be incredibly powerful.
This knife feels like Lotus Seven equipped with a V8.

The Microjimbo 15V, with its self-defense pedigree, actually falls into the same MBC category as the Lil’ Temperance. With such a compact edge, it’s more of a last-ditch option—a tool that could still deter a threat. It won’t reach vital organs, but it could sever an artery. That said, knives remain one of the worst possible choices for self-defense in my book.
Knives are ambush/backstabbing weapons.

Another last-ditch, highly capable small folder is the Chaparral Serrated. Its serrations can be extremely painful—an advantage in self-defense situations when you need to break a hold and get away.


Remember: 1 – Run, 2 – Hide, 3 – Fight.
Fighting should always be your last option!

For three times the price of a Metropolitan, you get the same edge length but in a heavier package. Once in hand, it feels remarkably secure—despite having neither guard nor choil—almost like holding a small fixed blade.

Another comparaison shot: the Lil Native convexed by Jan Dirk feels much smaller and stubby than the Microjimbo. But on the picture there is no real difference. Both are reliable lil’big knives with strong blades and strong locks.

There’s no jimping on the handle or the blade, yet indexing the knife is effortless. You always know exactly where the edge is, allowing for precise, controlled cuts.
That G10 definitely leans toward the pocket-shredder side.

I prefer my G10 with a smoother finish, so I used 400-grit sandpaper to tone it down—taking care to avoid inhaling the hazardous G10 dust.

I’m able to carry the Microjimbo in my watch pocket. I appreciate the strong detent—it keeps the blade securely closed while in my pocket. However, because it’s so strong, it’s difficult to open with any finger other than the thumb. No easy Spyderflick on this one.

The Microjimbo isn’t out of place on the kitchen cutting board. In fact, this will likely be its main battlefield, as I use my pocket knives extensively in the kitchen. I do need to be careful, though—its pointed tip tends to catch the flesh with a predator-like hunger.

Once razor-sharp, I haven’t been able to dull any of my CPM-15V blades so far, even after cutting cardboard and other abrasive materials. I’m glad to carry such a compact yet robust folder as I continue to explore this remarkable alloy.

Michael Janich has clearly done his homework on this little knife. Designing smaller blades is always tricky, and this one is a pure gem. The choice of a full-flat-ground blade is fully justified by the placement of the Spyderhole, and the geometry remains uncompromised.

I’m looking forward to putting this little knife through its paces.