Tag Archives: Sal Glesser

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

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.

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

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.

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


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

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.”

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)

Spyderco Dyad Jr. Lightweight CPM SPY27 Sprint Run — Buddy Double


From time to time, I open the columns of this small blog to fellow authors who feel like sharing their thoughts on certain knife models. This has already been the case with JD and Pascal. Robin, a gifted French knife maker, is therefore the newest contributor, and here is his take on a knife I do not own but like very much.Nemo

“Here’s my in-depth take on the Dyad Jr. equipped with Spyderco’s proprietary CPM-SPY27 steel, a knife that quietly embodies much of what makes Spyderco such a compelling brand.

Spyderco is one of the few manufacturers that can still make each Reveal feel genuinely exciting. While many brands rely on incremental cosmetic changes, Spyderco continues to juggle bold new designs with thoughtful revivals of older, sometimes underappreciated models. In the previous Reveal, two knives immediately caught my attention: the Edgerati, a completely new Sal Glesser design, and the Dyad Jr., a classic concept brought back to life with modern materials. One represents Spyderco’s future, the other its heritage, and the Dyad Jr. in particular spoke to me because it pairs a proven design with a steel I genuinely appreciate.

I’ve owned all three incarnations of the Dyad platform: the full-size Dyad, the Dyad Jr., and the Micro-Dyad. Each has its merits, but if I had to pick the most balanced and versatile of the trio, the Dyad Jr. wins without hesitation. It hits that sweet spot between usability and carry comfort. It’s large enough to feel like a “real” tool in hand, yet compact and flat enough to disappear into a pocket without effort.

Picture from “goodruckk” on Reddit.

Comparing this new iteration to the older versions, several differences stand out. The most obvious, and arguably the most important, is the upgrade in steel. CPM-SPY27 is a substantial leap forward from what the Dyad Jr. originally offered. It brings improved edge retention, corrosion resistance, and overall consistency, while remaining easy to sharpen, a balance Spyderco has become increasingly good at striking. The second major improvement is the screw-together construction. This may seem like a small detail, but it’s a meaningful one. Serviceability, long-term maintenance, and overall precision all benefit from a screwed construction, and I personally consider this an unequivocal upgrade over the pinned build of the past.
(Important note: it is also clipless. Something to keep in mind. This folder will be digging deep in your pocket big time like a Swiss army knife Nemo.)

Pictures from Heinnie Haynes.

Despite its compact footprint, the Dyad Jr. delivers a surprising amount of performance. This has always been true of the design, but it feels even more pronounced here. The plain edge blade features an extremely fine, needle-like tip, easily one of the thinnest I’ve encountered on any Spyderco. It excels at precision work, piercing, and controlled slicing.

The serrated blade, on the other hand, is a pure cutting monster. For fibrous or abrasive materials, it offers edge longevity and cutting aggression that few single-blade folders can match. Having both options available at all times, without compromising ergonomics or carry comfort, is still a uniquely compelling proposition.

Fit and finish are excellent. The knife feels noticeably tighter and more refined than earlier versions. Both blades lock up solidly, with no vertical play whatsoever in my sample. Spyderco’s Seki-City backlocks have always had a strong reputation, but this one genuinely impressed me. In terms of perceived sturdiness, it comes surprisingly close to benchmarks like the Native 5 and Chaparral, which is high praise considering the Dyad Jr.’s dual-blade complexity.

Before I go back to what this knife is clearly meant for—cutting things—there’s one final point worth addressing: the price. Buying Spyderco in Europe is rarely inexpensive these days, and expectations have to be adjusted accordingly. That said, the Dyad Jr. positions itself extremely well. At under 130 €, you’re getting two fully functional blades, a smart and compact design, excellent build quality, and a modern, well-rounded steel that’s easy to live with. In the current market, that’s not just reasonable, it’s genuinely good value.

In short, the Dyad Jr. doesn’t try to be flashy or trendy. Instead, it quietly delivers versatility, performance, and thoughtful execution. For those who appreciate Spyderco’s more engineering-driven designs, this is a return that feels not only justified, but very welcome.”

(I will certainly update that review with more pictures from Robin later this week. – Nemo)

NATIVE CHIEF™ LIGHTWEIGHT SALT® CPM® MAGNACUT® — Part 2 — Every Day Teeth.

As I mentioned in my previous review of the Teeth for the Deep, the Chief Salt in Magnacut comes in two flavors: plain edge and serrated. The plain edge could be the ultimate traveler’s knife—light, versatile, and ready for anything (now that I have discovered the Edgerati, this is another great traveler knife, light and powerful but cost twice the Chief).
What about the Chief serrated version? That’s something else entirely. This is another animal. It takes the aggressive Spyderedge concept and stretches it across a long pointy blade, giving you both points and bites in one sleek package.
And no, you don’t open oysters with a Serrated Native Chief.
This picture is just for illustration. 😀

Having used the serrated Chaparral daily, I already knew how addictive a well-executed serration can be on a daily basis on a short and flat lady/gentleman folder. Scaling that up to the long Native Chief was something I had long wanted to put to the test again, and it doesn’t disappoint. Sal and Eric are true evangelists for serrations. Sal, in particular, is famous for collecting iconic knives and fitting them with custom serrated blades—the man knows how to get the max of performance in a portable package.

Now, let’s be honest: serrations aren’t for everyone—and that’s a shame. More often than not, it’s simply a matter of education and familiarity. No, serrations are not difficult to keep sharp; you just need the right tools for the job. And yes, you can push-cut into wood to strip branches from a rod when needed.

Some of my friends love meat but refuse to touch a serrated knife at the table. And while serrations are not the first choice for delicate whittling or ultra-precise cut, also the teeth are chisel-ground, so the cut can drift if you’re careless… But for true performance, fast and furious, serrations shine everywhere !
On the Chief Salt, they are sharp, a little too aggressive, and pointy: they bite hard into whatever you’re cutting, with a bit of drag, but they make short work of fibrous and demanding materials. The serrations of the Chaparral are more forgiving. The Chief Magnacut’s spyderedge will catch everything, keep it away from your skin !

Maintenance as mentionned earlier is simple. Especially with a triangle rod of a Sharpmaker.

” I designed the Sharpmaker to be able to sharpen serrations. It’s really easy to get good edge on a Spyderco serrated edge with a Sharpmaker. When sharpening a SE edge on the Sharp Maker should you also “push” the knife along the stones as well as pull? I feel like only pulling the edge along the stone would concentrate the contact of the stone on the front of each serration.”
Sal.
These serrations hold their edge very very well and, because of the chisel grind, you only need to sharpen only one side of the blade. And here’s a neat thing to know: serrations always give you more edge length than a plain edge of the same blade size. More edge’s length, more power.

Using the serrated Chief changes the way I cut. On a wooden board, I often find myself relying mainly on the tip and the first 10% of the edge.
Making a wider angle with board, holding he knife higher…
If I cut parallel to the board, the serrations are so aggressive they generate sawdust!
But in any professional kitchen, serrated knives make preparing sandwiches or slicing layered ingredients effortless—fast, clean, and without crushing delicate foods.

The mechanics of a serrated blade differ from a plain edge. Plain edges excel when you can push, slicing smoothly through the material. Serrations excel with a sawing motion, ideal for fibrous materials and when speed matters more than precision. Think of sawing through a branch versus whittling a stick: both cut, but only one does it efficiently under pressure, in emergency. Spyderco bigger folders were often considered as Pocket Chainsaws for that very reason.
Start using Spyderedge and you will see they are addictive !

See ?

Slicing bread illustrates that point perfectly. Pushing with a flat blade (even a thin one) can squish a loaf, but a serrated edge will slice cleanly, scoring and dividing the material with minimal effort. A sharp serrated knife hooks, grips, and slices with real efficiency, unlike a dull serrated knife, which merely tears. Each teeth act like tiny scallop edge, biting, reaping through the material rather than forcing it apart. A real saw, is not really sharp, by contrast, removes shavings to create a kerf—a very different process altogether.

From a geometric point of view, that serrated Chief Salt is a masterclass in applied design. A true vector for serrations. Very aggressive yet easily controlled, fast yet precise enough for practical use in every day or emergency chores. It’s a light folding knife that turns hard work into satisfying results: you cut fast in all conditions, rain, snow, sea, mud, grease… That chief would even be a precious ally for an expedition in the rain forest. For anyone who wants to take with them everywhere the utility of a long, hard-working Spyderedge in a travel-friendly folding package, this is it. An toothy all terrain tool you can rely on in all circonstances. The fruit of fifty years into knife making observing Nature where serrations are legion.

“In our early testing, (Gail and my), we learned that a coarse edge cut more aggressively than a fine edge, but the coarse edge tended to dull more quickly. The way we decided to combine the coarse cutting and the fine edge longevity was with a serrated edge. The serration tooth is he “coarse” aspect and the “fine” inner edge, lasts longer. “
Sal Glesser.

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 !

The Gambit of the Military 2 CPM 15V

I sold my Military 2 in CPM-15V back in August. Yes I did !
Why? Because, for me, it was an overkill design. I could never quite get that 15V edge where I wanted it with my equipment, and—more importantly—I was almost afraid to use it hard. Such a Sprint Run deserved to be kept pristine for later…
In my knife rotation, that niche of hard use folders was already well-covered by my Lil’ Temperance in K390, my Adamas in CPM-CruWear, and even my semi-serrated Tenacious in CPM-M4. The Military 2 felt like nothing more than an rare XXL Para 3, or at best a precious XL Paramilitary 2.

So I sold it to a friend, who was thrilled with the convex edge I had put on it.
And with the money, I invested in a Microjimbo in CPM-15V—nicknamed Shard.

But then I kept catching myself looking at the Military 2 Salt, which in my book might be the best “military-style” folder ever designed: light, stainless, and equipped with a Magnacut blade. Then I even drifted toward the Manix 2 XL Salt… not released yet…
Eventually, I had to admit it: I was missing the big boy that is the Military 2.

As you know, for reasons I can’t fully explain, I give names to my EDC knives. The habit probably comes from my youth, devouring Michael Moorcock’s Elric saga and Fritz Leiber’s Swords cycle.
My CruWear Military was named Gandalf (grey handle).
The CPM-M4 with jade G-10 was Ghost.
My Military 2 in 15V was Gambit—after the chess term meaning to sacrifice material for positional advantage.

Well… I sacrificed Gambit.
To invest in Gambit again.

A friend was selling his own M2 in 15V—bought after reading my reviews—because, just like me, the knife lived in a drawer and never found a place in his rotation. I immediately noticed he had put painfully a superb edge on it, better than the one I had given mine. So I bought it back. Somehow Gambit returned—sacrificed once, resurrected better.

This time, I have decided to use it hard. The blade already has patina and even some pitting. It will be a user, not a safe queen. I have reinstalled a deep-carry clip, dropped it into my pocket, and off I go.
Go figure, in those days on “Knife Angst”, I even carry it in the city—I don’t care. If I need to enter a museum, I just drop it in my bag with my keys. Again this is not a weapon, this is a tool. Always been. All those dreams of self defense with a knife are just marketing nightmares.

And as for mundane tasks being “unworthy” of such a mighty blade… I don’t care either. Cake, rose stems, cardboard with staples, plastic zips—bring it on. The geometry on that knife makes it brutally efficient.

One detail I especially love: the oversized pivot screw on the Military 2. Compared to the Bodacious or the Paramilitary 2, it gives the knife a wonderfully toolish, purposeful look.

Nano Oil is a great way to keep the action smooth.
And so far I only use leather to keep it super sharp.
So the Military 15V is back in action and will be used also as a benchmark in military tactical knives production.