Here is another, and potentially the most important in the start of my love of knives. This Boker USA 155 was given to me by my father in the mid 60’s. As a kid growing up in the backcountry of Idaho, Montana and Wyoming, it went everywhere with me. This is the knife I learned to sharpen by hand with whetstones. You can still see the stone marks resulting from a young boy trying to imitate his father’s honing skills. He often commented that I was going to grind the blade into nothing.