Lost In Translation: The Packmasper

This was my dad's pack in the 1980s. I have a decent Gregory but cleaning this thing up might be a fun project for Spring. Don't call it a Packmaster because it's not.

Found Memories: Dad's Vintage Vasques

If memory serves, the last time my dad wore these was in the mid-eighties in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  I used to love seeing pictures of that trip.  He was on active duty at Nellis Air Force Base at the time and had a few days off.  He and some of the other guys from the Oklahoma ANG spent that time camping and climbing.  I was so jealous when he got back home and I saw the pictures.  Shortly after, these boots went into storage and the last time I asked about them I was told they had been thrown away.  I got a pair of China-made Sundowners in the early nineties and have trying to wear them out since then so I knew wherever these Italian-made beauties had gotten off to they were holding up.  Last month when I was back home I found them in a rented storage building, along with a few other items that were thought to be long gone.  I've already started cleaning these up and they're looking great (I'll post the "after" pictures when I'm finished.)  Here's to found memories.

Tuf-Nut

A few years back my father gave me this Tuf-Nut pocket knife-on-a-chain that he carried as a kid.  Today while looking at the Barlow name on the bolster I was reminded of this:  "Mary gave him a bran-new 'Barlow' knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that swept his system shook him to his foundations.  True, the knife would not cut anything, but it was a 'sure-enough' Barlow, and there was inconceivable grandeur in that - though where the Western boys ever got the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its injury, is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps." - The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

Now, I realize that the Barlow Company of modern times who produced (and later imported) personalized and promotional gift items such as keychains and pocketknives is not to be confused with Barlow as a description of the knife that dates back to 17th century England.  (George Washington was a fan of the Massachusetts-made Barlows of the late 18th century.)  But I can easily imagine that to my father, the appeal of the Tuf-Nut was no less than the allure of the a "sure-enough Barlow" in the time of Mark Twain.  This may not be a very realistic point of view in an age where metal detectors at schools have become the norm because of few deranged young lunatics in recent history for whom a life spent playing video games in the dark isn't enough life wasted, but I'd like to think that there's still something special about the idea that when a boy carries a pocketknife he carries with him possibility and potential and ingenuity.  He can hack through the brush, cut through the ropes, fashion a raft, make a whistle or just skin a stick on the porch.  I have two young sons.  One of them is going to get this Tuf-Nut someday. And someday he might even be able to put it in his pocket.