- Joined
- Dec 1, 2016
- Messages
- 10,425
Hi all,
I thought I'd share a bit of a story that has been a few years in the making.
As many, if not all of you know, the Becker crew hosts a number of Gatherings around the country. The group here in the PNW cherishes these gatherings, we hold them twice a year, and I've made a point to try and attend every one of them since joining the forums several years ago. Bill has been to every one that I have attended as far as I recall and of course, not only is he a rad dude, but he makes a hell of a knife and we all are eager to see what he brings every time - it is how I have acquired the majority of my Siegle pieces.
I can't recall how far back it was (it had to only have been my 2nd or 3rd Gathering) but one of the fellas bought a curious blade off of Bill's table one evening. It quickly made the rounds amongst us and we immediately noted the bright blue G10 handle - it was really hard to miss! Built as one of Bill's notable Bowie blades, in our inebriated state, it was dubbed thusly, the "Smurf Slayer", and its legend was born (well, kind of
).
I started bringing my brother to these events and he took to them like a fish does to water. At his very first Gathering, he spotted this brightly hued legend and he simply had to have it but couldn't meet the owner's price. He didn't forget though and by the time the next Gathering rolled around, he came prepared and bought it outright - price was no object, he needed that knife! My brother was not gentle on his gear and he used that big blue blade sorely, always bringing it back to me when the edge would no longer cut like he needed it to. He was the "use it hard and put away wet" type and the Smurf Slayer soon lost its shine but never its spirit. Bill surely appreciates it when we use his blades as he intended anyway - no harm, no foul.
My brother loved these Gatherings and even if he could only make it for a day or two, he did his damnedest to be there, often just showing up in his truck with not much of anything else. The crew will remember his charm, his work ethic, and his love for roasting meat over an open fire. He loved axes, the woods, the fresh air, good pals, and copious amounts of cheap beer - Rainier being a favorite.
We recently had a Gathering last month and my brother lost his life in a car accident on his way to the campsite. A new dad (his boy barely a year old), taken away in a moment of such suddenness, I am still in a state of shock. My brother was not punctual for much of anything recreationally related and often didn't bring everything that one would need for an extended camping trip (he always made it work though) but he was on time this go around and was going to arrive exactly when he said he was going to. A freak bout of winter weather, a furious hailstorm that passed as quickly as it arrived, dumped enough ice on the road to make it a skating rink. He lost control and slid into the path of oncoming traffic - violent, yet sudden, witnesses said he was already gone when they immediately went to him after the crash. As the afternoon waned, I continued to send him pictures of the prime rib we were roasting over the fire, the sword spit that Bill had crafted, and haranguing him to hurry the hell up - the weekend awaited, I had no idea he was already gone.
My wife, the herculean woman that she is, went to the tow yard the day after in order to collect his belongings. She was only able to find a few items and nothing of what I knew my brother would have likely brought with him. So we reached out after the weekend and the tow yard informed us that most of his gear got placed in the other driver's vehicle so we made arrangements to go collect it as soon as we could. When we arrived, I faced the crumpled remains of his truck, it was in two pieces and the only thing that was recognizable was the exposed engine block. Right in front however, were some bins and several black garbage bags - right on top of the first bin sat the "Smurf Slayer", his drinking horn (miraculously intact), and his Leuku (another cherished knife of his).
My wife and I went through the remaining bins and bags and found his tools (including his framing hammer that had his son's name carved in the handle) and other important items - all covered in meat juice and beer (he had come loaded for bear and ready to do the weekend right). The items that mattered to me most though were these two knives, the puukko I had gifted him for his birthday, and his drinking horn. I know that there were other items that could not be found like an old .22 rifle, another Siegle blade, and an axe or two but the stuff that really mattered was there.
Kyle loved these events and though it pains me greatly, I still can rest just a little easier knowing that he was enroute, excited to spend the weekend with me and the boys out in the middle of nowhere.
The Smurf Slayer has a bit of road rash and had certainly developed some rust - whether that was due to Kyle's lack of care (quite possible) or the fact that it was marinating in meat juice for a week and a half, I won't ever really know and it matters not anyway. I gave it a good washing and will take some steel wool to the blade and give it a fresh edge. This blade will never leave and it will be at every future Gathering where we can pour one out for Kyle and pay tribute to those we have lost.
Thank you for listening to my ramblings. The legend of the Smurf Slayer continues.
Sláinte!
P.S. Thank you Bill (
Bill Siegle
) for the very kind card that you send. Please thank your wife for me as well - it was very much appreciated.
I thought I'd share a bit of a story that has been a few years in the making.
As many, if not all of you know, the Becker crew hosts a number of Gatherings around the country. The group here in the PNW cherishes these gatherings, we hold them twice a year, and I've made a point to try and attend every one of them since joining the forums several years ago. Bill has been to every one that I have attended as far as I recall and of course, not only is he a rad dude, but he makes a hell of a knife and we all are eager to see what he brings every time - it is how I have acquired the majority of my Siegle pieces.
I can't recall how far back it was (it had to only have been my 2nd or 3rd Gathering) but one of the fellas bought a curious blade off of Bill's table one evening. It quickly made the rounds amongst us and we immediately noted the bright blue G10 handle - it was really hard to miss! Built as one of Bill's notable Bowie blades, in our inebriated state, it was dubbed thusly, the "Smurf Slayer", and its legend was born (well, kind of
).I started bringing my brother to these events and he took to them like a fish does to water. At his very first Gathering, he spotted this brightly hued legend and he simply had to have it but couldn't meet the owner's price. He didn't forget though and by the time the next Gathering rolled around, he came prepared and bought it outright - price was no object, he needed that knife! My brother was not gentle on his gear and he used that big blue blade sorely, always bringing it back to me when the edge would no longer cut like he needed it to. He was the "use it hard and put away wet" type and the Smurf Slayer soon lost its shine but never its spirit. Bill surely appreciates it when we use his blades as he intended anyway - no harm, no foul.
My brother loved these Gatherings and even if he could only make it for a day or two, he did his damnedest to be there, often just showing up in his truck with not much of anything else. The crew will remember his charm, his work ethic, and his love for roasting meat over an open fire. He loved axes, the woods, the fresh air, good pals, and copious amounts of cheap beer - Rainier being a favorite.
We recently had a Gathering last month and my brother lost his life in a car accident on his way to the campsite. A new dad (his boy barely a year old), taken away in a moment of such suddenness, I am still in a state of shock. My brother was not punctual for much of anything recreationally related and often didn't bring everything that one would need for an extended camping trip (he always made it work though) but he was on time this go around and was going to arrive exactly when he said he was going to. A freak bout of winter weather, a furious hailstorm that passed as quickly as it arrived, dumped enough ice on the road to make it a skating rink. He lost control and slid into the path of oncoming traffic - violent, yet sudden, witnesses said he was already gone when they immediately went to him after the crash. As the afternoon waned, I continued to send him pictures of the prime rib we were roasting over the fire, the sword spit that Bill had crafted, and haranguing him to hurry the hell up - the weekend awaited, I had no idea he was already gone.
My wife, the herculean woman that she is, went to the tow yard the day after in order to collect his belongings. She was only able to find a few items and nothing of what I knew my brother would have likely brought with him. So we reached out after the weekend and the tow yard informed us that most of his gear got placed in the other driver's vehicle so we made arrangements to go collect it as soon as we could. When we arrived, I faced the crumpled remains of his truck, it was in two pieces and the only thing that was recognizable was the exposed engine block. Right in front however, were some bins and several black garbage bags - right on top of the first bin sat the "Smurf Slayer", his drinking horn (miraculously intact), and his Leuku (another cherished knife of his).
My wife and I went through the remaining bins and bags and found his tools (including his framing hammer that had his son's name carved in the handle) and other important items - all covered in meat juice and beer (he had come loaded for bear and ready to do the weekend right). The items that mattered to me most though were these two knives, the puukko I had gifted him for his birthday, and his drinking horn. I know that there were other items that could not be found like an old .22 rifle, another Siegle blade, and an axe or two but the stuff that really mattered was there.
Kyle loved these events and though it pains me greatly, I still can rest just a little easier knowing that he was enroute, excited to spend the weekend with me and the boys out in the middle of nowhere.
The Smurf Slayer has a bit of road rash and had certainly developed some rust - whether that was due to Kyle's lack of care (quite possible) or the fact that it was marinating in meat juice for a week and a half, I won't ever really know and it matters not anyway. I gave it a good washing and will take some steel wool to the blade and give it a fresh edge. This blade will never leave and it will be at every future Gathering where we can pour one out for Kyle and pay tribute to those we have lost.
Thank you for listening to my ramblings. The legend of the Smurf Slayer continues.
Sláinte!
P.S. Thank you Bill (
Bill Siegle
) for the very kind card that you send. Please thank your wife for me as well - it was very much appreciated.
