here's the sheath as promised the photo was provided by Richard Dyson (apt), the Sheath was made by Rob Exon from veg tan leather, he soaked it and then using a clever jig held it in place on the blade which was rust protected with cling film. there's a hole in the handle for the string to go through, i just do it up with a slipped shoelace knot (one loop still in tact). i had it loose in my pack for six months and never worried it would come off and all my stuff would be lacerated. If you want a more secure shoe lace knot give this a go
http://www.fieggen.com/shoelace/secureknot.htm
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bag of spoons, this is a quick way of displaying my spoons, there is my peddlars certificate also, the leather rolls up around the spoons and protects them from damage when they are being transported.
this all goes in the black waterproof bag that sits in the top of my pack along with my tools bag and bag of spoons. i keep my woolly hat in there so it's dry i have a headtorch which at night is always on my head and i'm in two minds about. i keep everything in this bag that doesn't fit elsewhere: a wallet, with my co-op account card, the waterproof match box with matches and a sewing kit, a little note book and usually a bic biro, a little bell, nail clippers and puncher repair kit (which i have a very funny story about). I started my journey with this folding saw but found it very tiresome and soon got rid of it in exchange for the irwin panel saw below.
large frosts knife with scandy grind, small laminated frosts knife with my special grind, Ben Orford spoon knives some other stuff, and sharpening kit including 240 - 1000 wet and dry, a wooden board with a radiused edge leather strop and honing compound. i will go into detail in other posts about the tools and techniques i use for spoon carving etc.
The plastic bag contains a change of clothes and is at the bottom of the pack, the saw slots into the frame and the axe and large spoon hook are loose inside the pack. i will talk much more about axes, but this is a gransfors wildlife hatchet, it's a truly beautiful axe and i feel sorry for anyone that doesn'y own one.
wash kit, this stuff was kept in the annoying pocket on top of the bag, the green bag actually contains a poncho, for the first half of my journey i was carting around a gortex jacket that never got used as i'd have to take the bergen off and root around in it first, inevitably the rain would pass or i'd expect it to or i'd just get so wet i thought i may as well not bother with it, so i dumped it in exchange for the poncho, the poncho is much smaller so was closer to hand, because it was cheap i didn't mind using it as a groundsheet or whatever. Plastic things get you just as wet from sweat if your working so i actually don't think waterproofs are really worth it for a british summer, but a couple of time this poncho saved me from a complete downpour, and if i'm sat on my pack it keeps us all dry, so maybe it's worth it. i normally just use soap and a nail brush for washing anyway, i don't shave so that saves on razor at least, bar of soap is not expensive lasts a long time and is easy to pack, the nail brush gets you and your kit really clean, i normally scrub my clothes with the soap and nail brush too. i pick at my teeth with a stick to keep them clean, and have recently been told by a dentist that they're in good shape, but i'm not convinced (and i don't have a girlfriend).
This is my backpack that i have carried around for the last 6 months. i am already missing the simplicity of having just one container of belongings. the bag is from an army surplus store i got it around 10 years ago went i went on a greyhound tour of oz. The size and weight have not been a problem whilst walking about, but i will try to reduce the weight and size next year. The 2 pockets on each side hold my water and food whilst the front one has my tarp. The main volume holds my sleep roll in one large drysack along with a bag of spoons, a bag containing my tools, and a waterproof bag with bits and pieces in.
A life less ordinary: Tobias Jones
We've had a great guy staying here for the past week: an itinerant spoon carver called Barn. He hitched here from London and rolled up looking just as I remembered him: wide braces over a woolly jumper, big beard and a big smile.
I met Barn more than a year ago in a wood in Herefordshire. He was the assistant to the green woodworking legend Mike Abbott and was teaching me, and a few others, how to make a chair. Since then he's got a so-called "peddler's licence" (for 17 quid from the West Mercia constabulary), a piece of paper that allows him to sit on any street corner and carve, and sell, his spoons.
What I like about Barn is his idealism: he doesn't sit on the streets because he's a drop-out, but because he's a true artisan who wants to share with ordinary people the beauty of his craft. He undercharges for his delicate spoons because he wants everyone to be able to buy one. Carving spoons, he says, is a way to "spread the love".
He wants, one day, to set up a sort of "spoon club" for schoolchildren so that they can learn knife skills and understand that knives can create real beauty, not just real menace. He talks about his idea of establishing a "pauper's caff" where hot, healthy food is served entirely on, or in, wood; where all the bowls, plates, spoons and chairs have been hewn by hand from trees. He's put his finger on what, I suppose, has always attracted me to wood as a material: it's so simple, so common and democratic. It's not exclusive, like silver or even ceramics. Anyone can find it and work it.
He stops with us for a week and is great company. We start each day sitting together in silence in the chapel, listening to the sounds of the geese and the wood pigeons. Barn is gentle but firm with the kids and is a huge help with all the work around the place. We spend a lot of the week just laughing. We all decide that he should come back and stay with us over the winter.
Each afternoon we sit and carve, creating a pile of shavings that the kitten and the kids distribute all over the place. My spoons are fat and lumpy compared to the smooth, slim models he creates with ease. When he puts a child's initials on a spoon, he does it by hand with a pick-knife, creating an immaculate bevel on the letters.
Barn's so used to sitting on the ground as he carves that we both sit on the floor while he teaches me more about sharpening and about various knife grips. It's obvious stuff if you think about it but I, like most people, have never thought about it.
Each night we offer Barn a bed in a spare room, but he pulls on his woolly hat and heads out under the stars. He's more at home in the woods. He's strung a tarp between a couple of hazels and sleeps happily out there each night.
His next project is to travel round Britain carving spoons in return for board and lodging and to write a book about it. It will be a sort of diary told through the people he meets and the spoons he makes for them. (If you're interested in a spoon or the book, we'll pass on your details to him.)
In the end Barn decides he has to get back on the road. I leave him at a nearby layby as he hitches towards Wales. When I look back and see the sign he's holding up, I notice that he's given the thick, marker- pen letters on the cardboard flamboyant serifs. That's Barn all over… unexpectedly stylish.
Article here
spoon on people.