Hi. I’m Jordan Rosen. A photographer for SOG.
I am in the region known as Patagonia. It spans both Chile and Argentina and is characterized by a specific wind pattern called “ohshíet” that can rip rubber-templed sunglasses off your face without warning. I am in a town called Puerto Natales, in a seaside pub, fifteen footfrom a wood stove, and about 1KM from some enormous mountains. This is the entry town to Torres del Paine National Park.
The locals here are used to seeing travelers huddling around pint glasses on rainy days, but my addition of a tethered Canon 1DX Mark II on the low slung iron table in front of me is getting me a few extra looks. (The attention might also be from the presence of a dusty gaucho sitting next to me eagerly looking over my shoulder at the pictures I’m editing. Not your everyday sight I suppose?)
This is a safe town. I feel comfortable here. The kind of comfortable that could lead to accidentally spending a few months here.
At least that’s what happened 10 years ago. When I was 21.
On this return trip, a decade later I don’t feel terribly different, but the style in which I’ve returned certainly contrasts with my previous trip.
Notable changes would include: I am now accompanied by my wife, Michelle, rather than by a girl I was chasing. My camera is a tool, rather than a travel companion, and my lodging includes three different luxury hotels, rather than a leaky bivy sack.
During the past few days, after completing the assignment I traveled here for, I’ve spent quality time with staff from one of the hotels I was staying at. They are gauchos. (Patagonian Spanish for vaqueros, or, cowboys.) Most of them come from a long line of gauchos. It’s in their blood.
I spent most of my time with one gaucho in particular, Sebastian Soto.
He offered to take Michelle and me horseback riding, and we both jumped at the opportunity.
Gauchos are a special breed. Most of their equipment and methods haven’t changed in centuries.
They keep their horses mostly unshod. While this can make the horse’s hooves more sensitive on hard-packed surfaces, but it helps the horses perform at peak ability when performing aggressive maneuvers and roping cattle. They wear wool. As their extremely rugged alpine/seaside environment is always changing, there isn’t much of an alternative. The traditional gaucho uniform includes a beret, wide pantaloons, and tall leather boots.
They each carry two knives with them at all times. One about 4 inches in length in their front waistband, and one much larger, in their rear waistband, approximately 10 inches in length. The specific purpose of both knives differ, but in a situation when thrown from their horse but caught in the stirrups, the gauchos can use these knives to cut the leather straps connecting them to their horse. The knives are also used for skinning animals, processing kindling, cleaning hooves and any number of activities imaginable.
Sebastian was particularly proud of the larger knife that he carried. It was made by his great-great-grandfather out of the carbon steel leaf-spring of a truck and secured to its bone handle by handmade brass rivets.
At the end of our time together, as a way of thanking Sebastian for the days he spent with us, I deployed one of my party tricks that never ceases to yield a big hug, and occasionally fosters genuine friendships.
I asked to sharpen his grandfather’s knife.
Excitedly, he agreed.
Flattered he would give me this type of access over a possession this important to him, and simultaneously curious how the ancient steel would react to an abrasive whetstone, I began.
He sat next to me for the whole 20 minutes I spent as I moved from the hotel kitchen’s ancient stone, to a smaller ceramic honing rod I travel with, and then finally to a piece of raw saddle leather to strop.
It came out better than I expected. I shaved some of my arm hair to further communicate the sharpness of the knife, and he was thrilled.
My wife rolled her eyes.
Then everyone high-fived.
Then I went back to America.
There isn’t much of a moral to the story here. Patagonia is rad. Making friends in far-off lands is even radd-er.
The end.
Except for it’s not.
After spending quite awhile now as part of the SOG Team, I have developed a lot of opinions about knives, and in particular, about steels.
I’ve gone from someone who doesn’t sharpen knives at all, to someone who sometimes uses a SOG carbide “V,” to someone who literally travels to the Arctic or down to Patagonia with a Japanese whetstone and a ceramic honing rod.
I was initially confused about why one SOG knife costs $20 and another costs $200 when they look and operate approximately the same way.
Diving into freehanded sharpening has clarified a lot of things for me in my SOG laden world. (Yes, SOG photographers get A LOT of knives.)
Seeing and feeling how these different steels react to wear, abuse, polishing, and subsequent repair has led me to develop a lot of opinions.
And no. My opinions are not, “SOG makes the best steel in the world, BUY SOG.” Actually, almost the opposite.
I think SOG have made some extremely educated decisions About steel performance, and how they relate to price points.
In short, SOG is VERY in tune with the law of diminishing returns when it comes to steels and knives and has taken it upon themselves to produce knives and steels that outperform almost everything else in that price point.
What does that mean? That means practically, in the real world, it’s often far more useful to have three good knives in three different places than one great knife in one place.
In other words, if you can sharpen your own blades, the degree of extra hardness, toughness, and edge-holding capability S90 steel provides over VG10 is probably only worth the money in a very select number of use cases.
Modern heat treatments, coatings, and steel blends are very solid. Instead of buying S90V and hoping it NEVER dulls, learn how to maintain an edge on your knife. Realize that unless you are field dressing an elk and cannot pause to sharpen your blade that maybe SOG’s BDZ is more steel than you need.
Maybe don’t buy $400 knives. Maybe keep three different knives in three different places instead.
Think about your options. Think about your use case. Think about what level of edge-holding capability you NEED before purchasing and save some money, or diversify your tool box.
There.
I think that’s the end.
Love,
Jordan
