Mittwoch, 9. April 2014
I want to give you some personal ins and outs about this smithy. It is one of the old smithies in the Ennepe valley, an old site of many smithing manufactories, and one of the last upholders of regional smithing traditions. Scythes, machetes and farming tools as knives also were made there. It stands in line with the Krenzer Hammer, another manufactory looking back on a long tradition. The valley is also deeply molded
by blacksmithing and metallurgy. Even the trees tell a tale of a long tradition of crop-change farming, charcoaling and bloomery. In many places you can find slag heaps, the so - called "Sinnerhoopen" and iron oxides and ore which hint to the smelting of the legendary steel for the "Brackersfelder Knopmetz". The smithy burned down some time ago, and those folks are now faced with the challenge to start with zero to rebuild a tradition. It is a very great thing, because this can establish a new tradition. I will contribute as much as I can, and might be the "Brackersfelder Knopmetz" will come to life in their smithy... we will see what the future brings. For now I am quite enthused.
If you could find it in you (or your purse) to contribute to their work, please contact them via their homepage. Thank you!
Dienstag, 18. März 2014
ferrum noricum (not iron, mind you!) will ultimately shear through a bronze sword. Bello pater omniae seems to apply in this case.
Bronze as a foraging tool has its advantages, though. Herbs harvested with a bronze knife or sickle will not take to a metallic taste so easily and, according to hearsay, will be more effective in healing. So this one will see use for foraging herbs.
Mittwoch, 5. März 2014
I will continue to follow my heart on the path of my soul, and this involves riding as well as being a part of nature. And I do not think it´s a contradiction. Tire tracks will heal with time, even stunts would be okay, but you have to know where, when and how you do it. If you love nature, you want to get to know more of it, and if you know, you will have your fun in a manner that does not ruin too much. But this is not a post for the morons. It´s a post about silent joy. It´s a post about feeling flow on a singletrail as well as sitting on a stump and having a sip of tea, savouring the sun, and a gentle breeze in early spring, listening to the birds singing and feeling the sap rising. The morons will never understand. They are too busy posting the weight and mass and colour of their morning shit on facebook or what´s app to simply sit back silently. Language? Quite truly so, but that´s the only jargon they understand.
I have always been different to them, I never had a part in their business. Mountainbiking has been my vehicle into the other world, to get there faster, there, where I was born and where I belong. I am a different being, and have more in common with an oak or birch or a hare or fox or the wandering hunter´s moon than I have with their world. As an infant, my lullaby was the song of the breeze in the soft treetops of spruce and fir, and the hooting of owls and the cry of the buzzard was more important to me than the latest top ten pop song.
I will no longer partake in a world where I don´t belong, at least not more than I must, and I will become stranger and wilder still.
"Beyond the dream road through the iron wood
Lord of the forest made love to a faerie:
Silently the moon´s reflection in the water."
The hours passed in thought and without thought, and in reflection and meditation (others call that drinking tea;-)). Then it went a bit cold, and I went over to the birch I tapped and got me a bottle of sap and fixed a fresh one to it. Oh the loot:
And I rode home with freed shoulders.
So, why do I do this? The answer is simple: I simply think you cannot get better without a challenge. And I want to work on my consistency. It´s getting there, but I have high standards, and I want my very own no-frills, hardcore bushcraft knife that I can rely on 100%, and that I can replicate at will. It´s still some way to go, but I think I am on the path. And when I have the monosteel wired, I will then work even more on laminate steel, damascus and self-made wootz steel. I then hopefully have enough years left of my life to someday be able to forge a sword worthy of a tale and a testing. That´s my goal.;-)
Dienstag, 25. Februar 2014
We had a little lunch break, me having a sip of tea and she having a right feast;-) to be true, she offered me to partake, but I had to politely decline. Several singletrails and some chatting later we arrived at the grove, where I had already prepared my tap system a week ago, and the sap is on the rise well. Readers of my blog are well acquainted to the method I learned from the old Russian master at the smithy, Viktor. Please take care to tap a birch you haven´t tapped the year before, don´t take more than you need, and plug the hole with a piece of branch afterwards. Thank you!
Samstag, 22. Februar 2014
This is how those chimneys look from outside:
Then, on top of the hill, there is the ruin of this old farmhouse, whereof hails one of my many storytelling knives (I made a post about it in January)
The ruin, strangled in ivy and little trees, has somewhat of a fairy, eerie atmosphere to it, and I took it in with my deep breaths.
All broken down to become something new, the place is now a place where worlds collide; where the veil between our cherished reality and the realm of something else is growing ever thinner with decay, and decaying are the threads of the weavings we surround ourselves with to assure ourselves that our path is the only one to be trodden. But the other world laughs at our plight of hiding behind our well-polished lies.
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