I still remember the first knife I ever owned: a medium-sized Swiss Army Knife, made by Victorinox, called the Sportsman. It was given to me by my father. I had waited expectantly for that day ever since my brother received his first knife, a Leatherman, and was admittedly slightly disappointed when I saw my new possession’s size in comparison to what he had been given. I was confused; did my father think me unfit to handle a bigger blade? Maybe it had something to do with my brother lopping off the top of his finger while whittling a wine cork.
I didn’t have much use for a knife back then. The Sportsman’s tweezers saw more use than the knife blade, and I was thoroughly addled by the spiral tool affixed to one corner (a wine corkscrew). The knife spent most of its life in a drawer.
Years later, I recognized a need to carry a knife on a regular basis and stopped in at an REI while passing through Salt Lake City on my way from one coast to the other. I bought Gerber’s serrated Fast Draw, which, with a three-inch blade, isn’t a big knife by any means, but an upgrade over the Swiss Army nonetheless (and more formidable with a spring-loaded, assisted-opening mechanism). That knife became my daily companion, tasked with everything from opening letters at home to splitting pineapples on Costa Rica’s Sarapiqui River.
The laws of carry
Jump ahead a handful of years, and I was living in New York City, where an outdated law banned all “gravity knives” — folding knives that can be opened with inertia, like the flick of a wrist — as well as assisted opening switchblades. My Gerber suddenly became quite illegal. I was forced to abandon it and search for a stand-in to fill the deep void it left.
When I stumbled across the James Brand’s Elko, memories of the Sportsman immediately brought forth preconceived ideas about the inadequacy of small pocket knives. Closed, the Elko is the size of a USB stick. Open, it’s just over 4.3 inches, shorter than a standard pen. Not useful enough, I thought. I kept looking.
The James Brand