Josh Wussow

Josh Wussow is a freelance writer, reviewer, and the questionable mind behind JourneywindJunk, a blog that EveryDayCommentary calls "smashingly fun to read." His more respectable work is published over at GearJunkie, as well as here on BladeReviews. See what he's up to on his Instagram page, @JourneywindJunk.

Lionsteel BestMan Slip Joint Review

by Josh Wussow 2 Comments

Stop me if you’ve heard this one, but 2020 was a year of changes for me. One of those was career related, turning my collar from blue to a gray-ish shade of white. With this transition comes a change in scene. Where before I’d been free to carry tools like the Spyderco PM2, I’ve reached a point where I’m seeking out more discreet options for daily use. Enter the LionSteel BestMan, my first traveling companion on this strange new road.

Buy the LionSteel BestMan at BladeHQ or GP Knives

Buy on Amazon

Lionsteel’s thesis here is simple: Produce a traditional style blade with modern, high-end materials. A capital idea, for sure. But, speaking of capitals, how exactly am I supposed to spell this? Bestman? BestMan? bestMAN? I’ve seen it each way. For the purposes of this review, I’ll be using the middle option. Read on to see how it faired after nearly two months of testing.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

Hailing from Maniago, Italy, the BestMan is a thoughtfully crafted knife. The handle and bolsters are spun from lightweight titanium, measuring 3.75-inches. Nestled between the scales is a 2.875-inch blade, wearing a satin finish over its clean, flat grind. I opted for the clip point model, but Lionsteel also offers a drop point version under the moniker of BestMan 2.

Whichever you choose, you’ll be treated to 0.10-inch thick blade wrought in Bohler M390. Its overall length of 6.625-inches place it squarely in the medium-sized range, with a narrow profile of just under a half inch. At 2.32 ounces, its weight is on par with beefier folders such as the Spyderco Native 5.

Now, I’ve heard complaints about the fit and finish, specifically with the handle scales. I can’t speak for others, but my model from DLT Trading arrived with perfectly finished slabs of Santos wood, and a flawlessly centered blade. It’s still mostly centered, despite my efforts to the contrary. But we’ll get to that fiasco in a bit.

So, it’s beautiful. But how does it cut? Well, that depends on who you ask. Some reviewers have lauded the BestMan as an excellent slicer, while others believe it’s too thick behind the edge. After a few weeks of cardboard, paper, and packages, I’m definitely in the later camp. Don’t get me wrong – The blade is functional. But both my finger-calipers and in-hand experience tell me that its bevel isn’t quite steep enough.

This isn’t the end of the world, however. A high-end sharpening system or set of stones would allow you to refinish the M390. It was a little difficult to do with my Spyderco Sharpmaker, but I was able to thin it out a bit.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

I can sum up the BestMan’s ergos in two words: Deceptively comfortable. At first glance, the handle appears to be an elongated rectangle with some screws and matching scales. In practice, Lionsteel has created a knife that’s surprisingly easy to hold and use.

Take another look at the overall shape. See that gentle arc toward the spring side? It helps nestle the knife against your palm, while providing a nice concavity for your fingers. The blade spine is beautifully chamfered, creating a natural landing spot for the thumb. Even the Santos wood scales are well thought out, providing a nice bit of warmth and personality.

As far as pocket clips go, well, it doesn’t have one. This is a classically patterned tool, after all. Other than the thickness of its edge, this was the biggest sticking point for me. The BestMan would occasionally slide to the very bottom of my pocket, laying flat against the side of my leg. This isn’t ideal, which is why leather slips are so popular among traditional enthusiasts. Still, I consider this a relatively minor complaint.

Let’s move onto something a little more serious. Now, I know many gear reviewers are advocates of disassembling your new knife. Normally, I’m in the same boat. But not this time. Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, DO NOT take your BestMan apart. I made that mistake of completely taking down this knife, and it took me more than two hours to get back together. The process involved multiple screwdrivers, a pair of pliers, and a potato masher. I do not, under any circumstances, recommend that you follow in my footsteps.

Why so difficult? It has to do with the configuration of the back spring and the front and rear pivots. While this model of BestMan has only one blade, the internals are set up for two. This means that the spring is always applying pressure somewhere, making it very hard to snap pieces back into place. It’s a wonder I didn’t cut myself getting everything back together. So, skip it. If the action feels a little stiff, loosen the pivot or shoot some oil along the brass washers. You’ll be much happier, and less likely to ruin your handsome new knife.

Deployment and Lockup

As much as I complained about the disassembly process, LionSteel has done a good job with the backspring. Traditionals aren’t really meant to be taken apart, after all. When left to do its thing, the BestMan’s backspring produces satisfying pulls and zero blade play.

The process starts with the nail notch. It’s well positioned, subtly chamfered, and adequately sized. Personally, I prefer to pinch the blade between my thumb and index finger and, with the backspring facing up, draw the blade from the underside.

While there’s technically no “lock up” on a slipjoint, the knife feels secure under light to medium use. I could place my thumb on the spine without fear of the blade closing on my fingers. The half-stop is equally commendable, halting the edge far above the knuckles. This is by no means a knife I’d recommend closing one handed, but it can be done.

Overall, I find the walk and talk on BestMan to be satisfying. It doesn’t have the same fidget factor you’d find on a Benchmade 940 or Spyderco PM2, but the solidity of its pinch opening and snap of its closure provide a different kind of tactile thrill.

LionSteel BestMan Review – Final Thoughts

I like so many things about this knife. Its construction impressed me early on, but it took a while for me to warm up to the idea of using a non-locking blade. A few days of real-world use quickly turned me into a fan. LionSteel has succeeded in their quest to produce a “modern traditional”, taking the user-friendly mechanism and stamping it in cutting edge materials.

But, speaking of the edge, this is where I feel the BestMan is a little too modern. Many new-release blades tend to be thicker than necessary, trading effortless cutting for a perception of durability. This is mildly annoying, because I bought this knife specifically to fill the role of a lightweight, high-class slicer. Its premium material and quality build have exceeded expectations. Now, if only the edge was a bit finer, it’d be the Best-est Man.

Lionsteel BestMan – From $129.00
From: BladeHQ

Lion Steel Bestman BM1 Slipjoint Santos LSTBM1ST

Editor: I recommend purchasing the LionSteel BestMan at BladeHQ, GP Knives or Amazon. Thanks for reading!

Vostok Amphibian “Scuba Dude” Dive Watch Review

by Josh Wussow 3 Comments

I’ve been on a James Bond kick lately. So as the release of “No Time to Die” draws closer, I decided to check into buying one of the watches worn by the iconic super spy. But, a quick glance at the prices was enough to nix that operation.

Well, if I can’t afford a Bond watch, what about something that could have been worn by one of his Russian nemeses? Enter the $60-ish Vostok Amphibian, a Soviet timepiece released in the same year as the Connery classic “You Only Live Twice.” These watches are legendary for their oddball appearance and durability, backed by a legitimate diving pedigree. And hey, if it’s good enough for Steve Zissou, how bad could it be?

Fit

On paper, the Amphibian (also known as the Scuba Dude) reads as a moderately-sized watch. The steel case measures some 41mm across, with a sensible lug-to-lug span of 45mm. The outlier here is its 15mm thickness, which makes this a rather high-riding piece. Just take a look at that domed acrylic crystal.

My eyeball test estimates that the glass rises somewhere between three to four millimeters above the rest of the case. Why so tall? We’ll cover the purpose behind its architecture in a few moments. For now, know that Vostok does offer several different cases. This particular example is from their 710 line, also known as the “Ministry” style. There’s also the rounded 420, and a host of other more minor variations.

Despite its height, I’ve found the Scuba Dude to be an incredibly comfortable piece on my wrist. The lugs slope nicely away from the bezel, creating an interesting geometry. It’s a definite departure from your typical Swiss or Japanese design aesthetics, making it immediately recognizable.

Movement

Let’s get this out of the way: The Vostok 2416 is not a modern movement. It’s a hand winding, automatic mechanical straight out of the swinging 60s. In fact, it’s changed very little since it debuted alongside the first album from “The Doors.” That was in 1967, with LBJ in the White House and The Jungle Book in theaters. So, if a hacking seconds hand and quick set date are on your list of bare necessities, you’re out of luck.

Still, there’s plenty here to light my fire. For what it lacks in modern amenities, the 2416 is a proven, durable movement. There are certainly some rough edges, however, especially in the setting experience. Hacking may be absent, but you can get the seconds to stop for a while by dialing back the minute hand. This lets you get somewhat close, though it occasionally requires a shake to restart. Also, my Amphibian arrived with a weird stutter-step between the five and ten second marks. This sorted itself out over the course of my first two hours with the watch, and hasn’t reappeared since.

Let’s talk accuracy. For the first half the week, I was running around 45 seconds fast per day. While that’s certainly not great, I’d rather have my watches run fast as opposed to slow. Further reading indicated that most watches passing through international mail will be exposed to some form of magnetism. That’s a major problem for automatics, so I ran the Vostok over my degausser. The results since then have been closer to plus-35 seconds per day, so there’s been a slight improvement.

It’s also worth noting that, according to various internet forums, these watches have a break-in period of a few weeks. While this could be anecdotal, mine has gotten more accurate over its week-plus on my wrist. The hand-winding is a bit rough, but we’ll cover the quirks of its crown below.

Overall, I knew what I was getting into with this movement. With its hearty gears, stoic silence, and blue-collar ethos, it’s not hard to see the Russian DNA here.

Case and Crown

Though there are countless Amphibian combinations, I opted for the standard Scuba Dude because of its more traditional divers’ appearance. The entire affair is made stainless steel, with a surprisingly nice polish. The brushed back features Cyrillic script that I can’t read. Oh, except for the “200M.”

Let’s take a second to cover the uniqueness of the Scuba Dude’s construction. The story goes that, back in the 1960s, the Russians needed to develop a watch with a 200M diving rating. Being a Communist nation, they weren’t keen on the idea of purchasing patents for such tech from the Swiss. A group of engineers was tasked with replicating their results, while operating within the limits of the Soviets’ industrial capabilities. What they came up with was the Amphibian, a watch that utilized a domed crystal and rubber gasket. Under pressure, the watch’s components actually squeeze in on themselves, creating a tighter seal as the wearer descends in depth. It’s a neat bit of history, even if I’m unlikely to take up deep-sea diving.

Speaking of unique construction, the Amphibia’s 2416 movement has one of the strangest crowns you’re likely to encounter. It’s actually disconnected from the shaft, giving it a wobbly feel that can trick folks into believing that their watch is broken. Supposedly, this is intentional. Vostok enthusiasts claim that it provides additional protection to the mechanism in the event of an impact to the crown. The theory is that, since it’s free-floating, the winding shaft won’t be able to slam into the heart of the movement. Some folks consider this annoying, but I’ve chalked it up as another lovable quirk. Connected or not, I’m just happy that it’s a screw-down crown.

Dial, Bezel, and Crystal

Call me crazy, but I feel this is one of the most stylish watches available under $60. The eponymous Scuba Dude is a classic logo, and the polished hands and indices are really sharp. I love the sea-green dial, and the red second hand really pops. The date window is perfectly placed at 3-oclock, and the whole affair is nicely proportioned. Oh, and the lume far outpaces the weak paint found on the similarly-priced Seiko SNK809. The hands and hour pips are clearly visible through the night. Not quite as bright as the Citizen BM8180’s, but that’s more due to the smaller applied points.

Let’s talk about the bi-directional bezel. This is a sore spot for some dive-watch purists, who want to stick closer to the diver aesthetic. A one-way bezel allows you to more reliably track the amount of air left in your tank, while an unwanted spin of the Vostok’s outer ring could provide a dangerously misleading reading.

But for my needs, I’m onboard with the two-way spin. I actually found myself using the Amphibian’s bezel more than those on my traditional divers, from timing flights to making basic computations.

Lastly, there’s the acrylic crystal. Will it scratch? Yes, for certain. Do I care? No, not really. This is a fun, budget diver meant to be worn. And unlike harder mineral crystals, a quick application of Polywatch should be able to restore the Amphibian’s glass to its former glory.

Strap/Bracelet

Ready for my biggest criticism of the Vostok? This is, hands down, the worst bracelet I’ve encountered. Even among enthusiasts, the universal consensus was this – The metal is sharp, prone to pinch, and loves nothing better than to devour each and every hair on your arm. Thankfully, I had a backup plan in place.

Full disclosure: The green NATO you see here was provided free of charge by an outfit called Cincy Strap Company. I’ve been a long-time customer of theirs, and they hooked me up with a few of their “Premium SB Straps” as both a “Thank you” and a way to get their name out there. Until now, I’ve always purchased their standard (and excellent) Milspec models. But these premium SB’s are worth every cent of their $26 price tag. The material quality is top notch, from the hardware to the supple strap itself.

Here is a shot of the Amphibia next to my Casio MDV106-1a “Duro”:

While I love the look and feel of the NATO, it does cause the watch to ride higher than a UFO on my wrist. Still, I gladly rocked this look for several days’ worth of travel and testing.

I’ve purchased a basic rubber band for wear on the job, which should help keep the Dude’s dome from smashing into a steam valve. But, man, that olive NATO really pops with this dial.

Vostok Amphibian “Scuba Dude” Review – Final Thoughts

Long story short, I adore this watch. Between the historical significance, quirky design, and rugged personality, it’s exactly the kind of fun piece I enjoy having in my collection.

Now, here’s the hard part – Where can you buy one? While they’re available on Amazon for around $100, your cheapest route is through eBay. I paid $57 for mine, with free shipping. Just look for a dealer with a lot of positive reviews, and you should be okay. Here’s the catch – The watch ships from Russia. That means you’ll be waiting somewhere between two and four weeks for the Scuba Dude to swim across the pond.

There is another option – Meranom, the official Vostok distributor. The shipping isn’t any quicker, and the prices are generally around $75. But if you want to browse through the mind-boggling variety of the Vostok catalog, they’re your source.

Bark River PSK Review

by Josh Wussow 6 Comments

In the world of fixed blades, few names carry as much clout as Bark River. They’re a mainstay in the outdoor community, with a reputation for high-quality, American-made blades. But, how far down can one distill their legacy? I aim to find out with a review of the Bark River PSK.

Buy the Bark River PSK at KnivesShipFree | BladeHQ

Short for “Personal Survival Knife,” this diminutive entry bills itself as a perfect backup to your full-sized outdoor companion. The makers have used their knowledge and top-notch materials to pack as much utility as possible into the smallest practical space. I’ve cooked, hiked, and tooled around with the PSK for a few months now, and my thoughts are, well, complicated.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

Look – I’m going to try to keep this review from being one continuous short joke. But, let’s discuss the elephant in the room – Despite owning, carrying, and using an ESEE Candiru on a regular basis, the PSK immediately struck me as undersized. This is especially true when you factor in its $150-ish price tag.

That being said, there’s still a lot to like throughout the PSK’s 5.25-inch span. Bark River has fitted this full tang blade with burgundy Micarta scales, leaving 2.25-inches of satin Elmax up front. Two of these inches are sharpened, with a drop point design sloping down from its .08-inch thickness. This results in a convex edge, a grind well known for its versatile nature and outstanding durability.

But, while convex edges may be Bark River’s stock and trade, this is my first knife with this particular grind. I found it to be eminently capable, from wood carving to food prep and everyday chores. The sharpening anxiety is real, however. Elmax is definitely a long-wearing steel, but I’m concerned about my ability to sharpen this knife with my current equipment. The blade’s converging slopes require an abrasive surface with a little give in it, allowing you to gently roll the knife while honing the edge.

I know you can use sandpaper and a mousepad to preserve the curve but… Come on. This is a $150 knife, and I feel weird about sharpening it with products from Ace Hardware and Staples. That’s my hangup, though, not the knife’s.

Handle and Ergonomics

Ergo’s can be trick when it comes to small knives. Compact frames and tight tolerances leave less room for error. Thankfully, Bark River knows their craft. While the 3-inch handle is smaller than the blade on my Kizer Begleiter, the PSK manages to fit snuggly in my medium/large hand. This is due in part to its 0.38-inch thick handle and 1.45-ounce heft, which gives it a feeling of solidity lacking in the stock Candiru.

Here’s another advantage of the PSK: Thanks to its squared-off spine, this knife can be used to strike a ferro rod. It’s a nice touch on a blade with “Survival” in its acronym. I was able to get a small fire going in just a few moments, despite some fairly damp conditions.

The lanyard hole is nicely finished, as well. I’m not a lanyard person in general, but these small knives definitely benefit from a little cordage out back. But, while basic paracord looks natural on the bare frame of the ESEE, the fine handles on the PSK would probably benefit from a strip of nice leather.

Sheath

Bark River’s material quality carries over to the sheath. This is one of the best made leather items I own, size be damned. It’s thick, solidly stitched, and well finished. There was a definite break in period at the outset, however. I had to force the knife in the first time, after which it took quite a while to work its way out. But, as with all leather sheaths, it’s loosened over time.

The bigger issue here is, “Where do you carry it?” While I was (barely) able to fit my belt through the loop, this isn’t a comfortable carry outside the pocket. Wait – That’s not entirely accurate. A better way to put it is that, given the size of the knife and the depth to which it sits in the sheath, it’s very difficult to draw and return the PSK when it’s riding on my belt. The angle of reentry can be tricky, and I was always concerned that I’d slip and stab myself in the thigh.

Honestly, I think a pocket clip stitched into the leather would have been a better call here.

Bark River PSK Review – Final Thoughts

Here’s what it boils down to: The PSK is a well-crafted, aesthetically pleasing, and surprisingly capable small fixed blade. It handled everything I threw at it without issue. The design is on-point, even down to the blade etching and colorful liners.

But, no matter how much capability you pack into these two inches of blade, it’s still a very small knife. It’s also tricky to carry, odd to sharpen, and more than twice the price of the similarly-sized Candiru.

We should also mention the warranty. Bark River offers a lifetime guarantee against manufacturer defects, which should put you at ease when it comes to actually using the PSK. But again, this isn’t as comprehensive as the “No questions asked” coverage you get from ESEE.

In the end, I’ve struggled to find the target audience for this blade. Outdoorsy folks will probably want something larger, unless they’re comfortable keeping $150-worth of backup knife in their packs. Kids and collectors, maybe?

The PSK reminds me of a small plate of food prepared by a world-class chef. No matter how finely crafted, perfectly presented, and delicious it may be, there’s just not enough there to quell the hunger. If you’re looking for an entry point into the world of Bark River, the PSK is an interesting piece. But for now, I’ll be swimming up a different stream.

Bark River PSK – From $134.95
From: BladeHQ

I recommend purchasing the Bark River PSK at BladeHQ, KnivesShipFree, or Amazon. Thank you for reading.

Cold Steel Bush Ranger Lite Review

by Josh Wussow 4 Comments

Time to face it, fellow knife nerds – We’re living in an era of over-saturation. With so many companies releasing a deluge of new designs, it’s difficult to pluck the hits from the static. But after months of blade malaise, something interesting caught my eye – A cheap, rugged looking, aggressive green monster with a nifty locking mechanism. It’s the Cold Steel Bush Ranger Lite, a budget iteration of the company’s $200-plus outdoor original. After several months of testing, one thing’s for certain: Of all the Cold Steel knives I’ve handled, the Bush Ranger Lite is definitely the Cold Steel-iest.

Buy the Cold Steel Bush Ranger Lite at BladeHQ

Buy on Amazon

General Dimensions and Blade Details

As you’d expect from a sub-$30 knife, Cold Steel has chosen fairly basic materials. The handle is comprised of 4.875-inches of Outdoor Green GFN, measuring more than half an inch thick (0.65”). The flat ground 8Cr13MoV blade features a satin finish along the length of its 3.5-inches, with a tallness of 1.75 and a thickness of 0.65, respectively. Overall length and weight sit at 8.375-inches and 4.8-ounces. The forward swedge flows gracefully into a bowie-style clip point, giving the Bush Ranger an elegantly aggressive appearance.

If these handle scales look familiar, you’re not wrong. The Bush Ranger’s outline is very similar to the Cold Steel Finn Wolf, a Scandi-ground folder I reviewed a couple years back. If you squint, these are almost the same knife. But while the Wolf’s grind lands it in the outdoors-only curriculum, the Bush Ranger’s mandate is decidedly more gen-ed.

But speaking of outdoor credentials, here’s an interesting note – The Bush Ranger Lite will strike a ferro rod. Even in a closed position, this pocket knife is more than capable of casting sparks. This is certainly safer than previous folders I’ve used to make fire, since I was always concerned about applying force to the back of the blade.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

The Bush Ranger fits perfectly in my medium/large sized hand. The hook on the back end rests perfectly against the heel of my palm, creating a feeling of security. Balance is good, and at no point did I encounter any hotspots.

Despite the squared-off spine, the backside of the Bush Ranger’s blade provides a generous, comfortable place to rest your thumb. There are some rough edges on the underside of the GFN, but nothing out of bounds for this price range.

The pocket clip is small, tight, and unobtrusive. This is by no means a deep-carrying tool, but the clip performs adequately and disappears against my palm when the knife is in use. There’s no flat resting surface under the tongue, however. This means that your pocket seam will be slowly digested as it drags across the textured handle. Cold Steel has also opted for tip-up only carry, reversible to the left or right side. This, along with the lefty-friendly nature of the lock, makes this a truly ambidextrous knife.

As for the actual ride, the knife carries surprisingly, well, Lite. Don’t get me wrong – The footprint is massive. It shared my right front pocket with my wallet and pen, and there was no mistaking its presence. That being said, the airy nature of GFN made this an area problem only, not a question of mass. It was also surprisingly benign in daily activities, such as walking, sitting, and climbing ladders. At no point did I feel that the Bush Ranger limited my flexibility. Until reaching for my wallet, of course.

Deployment and Lockup

For the longest time, the keystone of the Cult of Lynn Thompson (h/t Advanced Knife Bro) has been the sacred Tri-Ad Lock. Of all the mechanisms in the hobby, this one seems to have the most fervent devotees. While the Bush Ranger Lite isn’t technically a member of the Tri-Ad tribe, it does boast another interesting innovation from Cold Steel – The Rocker Lock. That’s the sliding piece you see on the show side of the blade. Here’s a look at it stripped down to bare metal:

As the breakdown confirms, the Bush Ranger is lacking the signature stop pin of the Tri-Ad. However, the Rocker’s additional sliding stop adds a sense of solidity to the traditional back-lock mechanism.

I will say this – This knife benefited greatly from its initial disassembly and maintenance. It was noticeably stiff out of the box, running dry on its Teflon washers. Some cleaning and a little oil worked wonders, and the Bush Ranger became a much smoother operator. The CLACK its lock snapping into place is a mildly addictive sound.

Closing can be a bit trickier. Cold Steel’s locks are notorious for their stiffness, and this is no exception. And because of the lack of a forward finger choil, this is really a knife that requires two hands in order to close safely. Otherwise, you risk shaking that sharp edge down into you knuckle, which would only be exacerbated by the tendency of back-locks to snap shut with authority.
In daily use, I found this to be an eminently capable all-around cutter. From food prep to package duty, the Bush Ranger was a solid companion. But this is a Cold Steel, after all. So, what sort of tester would I be if I didn’t at least attempt to baton with it?

The surprise isn’t that the knife got stuck. I intentionally used a piece of wood that was larger than a pocket knife should be able to tackle. The shock was what happened after I hammered, pulled, and pried the Bush Ranger loose. I disengaged the rocker tab, pressed down the back-lock, and the knife closed as though nothing had happened. I opened and closed the knife several times, just to be sure I wasn’t losing my mind. Blade play? Zero. Centering? Dead-on. Not even so much as a roll on its 8Cr edge. The FRN handle held up to the prying as well, with no new gaps developing around the back spring.

Here is a parting size comparison with the Spyderco Native 5 and Mora Companion:

Cold Steel Bush Ranger Lite Review – Final Thoughts

The Bush Ranger Lite is, without question, the toughest budget blade I’ve come across. It’s rugged, well built, and perfectly suitable for everyday abuse. And from a sheer bang-for-buck perspective, I’m not sure there’s another knife under $30 that gives you this much blade, handle, and versatility. Sure, the materials are basic and the design isn’t for everyone. And if you spend even part of your time in an office, it probably isn’t the blade to use in the break room. I certainly raise a few eyebrows when I pulled this clip-point monster out of my pocket.

But under almost any other circumstance, the Bush Ranger Lite is a heck of a tool. Buy one, beat the heck out of it, and get another if it breaks. Overall, I this is an outstanding budget effort from the cult of Cold Steel.
Links

Sale

Cold Steel Bush Ranger Lite 3.5" 8Cr13MoV Blade 4.875" GFN Handle Everyday Carry Hunting Folding Knife w/Rocker Lock - Boxed

DURABLE BLADE - The Bush Ranger Lite folding knife features a 3 1/2" Sheffield clip point blade; Crafted from durable 8Cr13MoV steel, this blade strikes a balance between sharpness and resilience, making it an excellent choice for various cutting tasks
COMFORTABLE HANDLE - Comfort is paramount in the Bush Ranger Lite's design - The handle is expertly contoured and made from glass-filled nylon (GFN), providing a secure and comfortable grip; The ergonomic design ensures extended use without discomfort
EASE OF OPENING - Designed for practicality, the Bush Ranger Lite incorporates a thumb stud for quick and effortless blade deployment; This feature ensures easy access to the blade, allowing for swift and efficient use in a variety of situations
ROCKER LOCK - Prioritizing safety, Cold Steel equips the Bush Ranger Lite knife with a state-of-the-art rocker lock; The inclusion of a secondary safety feature enhances resistance to shock and impact, ensuring a secure and reliable lockup during use
SPECS - Weight: 5.2 oz (147.4 g); Blade Thickness: 3.8 mm; Blade Length: 3.5"; Blade Steel: 8Cr14MoV Steel; Handle Length/Material: 4.875" GFN; Overall Length: 8.375"; Knife Type: Folder; Blade Shape: Clip Point; Locking Mechanism: Rocker Lock

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Cold Steel Bush Ranger Lite from Amazon or BladeHQ. Thanks for reading.

Orient Esteem Gen 2 Automatic Watch Review

by Josh Wussow 2 Comments

After years of choosing timepieces based on their durability, it’s finally happened – I find myself in need of a dress watch. While 200-meter monsters like the Casio Duro and Victorinox INOX still rule my days, there’s now the occasional evening which calls for something a bit more refined.

Buy on Amazon

I’d previously owned an Orient Bambino, a $130 mechanical bought and sold long before the need arose for tucked shirts and nice shoes. Fond memories of that watch brought me to the Orient Esteem Gen. 2, an open-heart automatic with a classic look and pedigree. Here’s how it fared after several months of testing.

Fit

Let’s grab a few stats before we dive into the details of the watch:

Case Width: 41mm
Case Thickness: 12.3mm
Lug to Lug: 47mm
Depth Rating: 5Bar (50m)
Lug Width: 22mm

As someone with medium-sized wrists, the numbers that jump out most are the case width and distance lug to lug. These dimensions make for a dress watch that’s slightly on the larger side, both in wear and visual signature. We’ll get to the Esteem’s dial later, but there’s no denying the amount of white space in that 40-plus millimeter circle. If you’re planning to wear this watch to a fancy dinner party, be prepared to pick a suit that matches.

That being said, the watch does wear quite comfortably. It’s relatively thin for a budget-minded mechanical, sliding easily under the cuff of a shirt or jacket. I enjoyed the tactile sensation of the Esteem against my wrist, so long as my hand was on the table or at my side.

Movement

The Gen 2 Esteem is powered by Orient’s in-house Caliber F6T22 movement, a 22-jewel automatic assembly featuring the ability to hack and hand-wind. These are must-have features for me, no matter how loud the Seiko fans protest (I’m looking at you, 5 Series and SKX apologists). One of the main selling points of this watch is the open-heart design, which gives you a glimpse of the F6T22 in action.

We’ll talk more about appearances later, though. For now, I’d to say a few words about the movement’s performance. “Inaccurate, inconsistent, and scratchy.” Yeah, those just about cover it. Look, I’m not expecting masterful performance from an entry-level mechanical. My other Orients (the Mako 2 and Bambino 2nd Gen) both ran about 10 seconds fast per day. But the Esteem ticks ahead to the tune of 15 seconds on the wrist, and as much as 20 in my watch drawer. The movement can be regulated for increased accuracy, as demonstrated by the “+” and “-“ symbols visible through the clear case back. But out of the box, this was something of a bummer.

My frustration with the Caliber F6T22 is exacerbated by the roughness of its winding. Turning the crown produces some rather harsh feedback, even more so than the Bambino. The rotor has a similar problem. Every swing of your arm sends the scratch of its arc into the bones of your wrist. At no point will you forget you’re wearing an automatic. That being said, I don’t think there’s anything mechanically unsound about the movement’s construction. It’s just the nature of lower-end autos.

I also find myself missing the date window. As someone who needs to know the date more or less constantly for work, I pine for the Bambino’s simple 1-31 display. The idea that people spend thousands of dollars on date-free watches boggles my mind. Maybe when I’m rich enough to afford one, I’ll understand. But until I reach that point, I need to know my days of the month.

Case and Crown

The Esteem’s case is nicely beveled, polished, and finished. Sure, it’s a bit large for my liking, but that doesn’t detract from the quality of its construction. There’s no brushing to be found anywhere. Every metallic surface reflects my face like a funhouse mirror.
The crown is simple, unsigned, and easy to use. The ridged grip is perfect, and the push/pull feel is solid. I have no reason to doubt its claimed 5-bar (50m) water resistance, though the leather band will probably keep this particular piece out of swimming pools.

Speaking of the water resistance, let’s flip to the back of watch. That’s where you’ll find it printed, along with data on the movement’s origins and manufacturing details. But why take the printer’s word for it? Orient has included a clear case back, allowing you to see the action for yourself. I especially appreciate the etching on the rotor, with its interesting angles surrounding some additional branding. The visual interest of the movement almost makes up for its relatively poor accuracy. Almost.

Dial, Bezel, and Crystal

Let’s turn the watch back over and examine the face. Wait, what are those hollow rectangles above the hour markers? And why are the hands hollowed out? As it turns out, the Orient Esteem is part of a rare breed: A dress watch with lume. While certainly no Super-LumiNova, the applied compound will make for a smooth transition from the brightly-lit ballroom to the more intimate glow of the balcony.

Speaking of applied things, take a look at the logo. The twin lions are in fine form here, mimicking the look of the Orient Mako, Ray, and Bambino. Unfortunately, that’s where the Esteem begins to dress down. While the Bambino features applied indices and a date window, this watch is left with painted numerals and a massive amount of white, empty space. It’s more off-putting in person than the photos perhaps convey, which is why I didn’t notice before pulling the trigger on the purchase.

“Hold on,” you might say. “You’re missing the entire point of the Esteem’s ethos. Just look at that beautiful open-heart movement.” And you’re right – The window into the watch’s inner workings is really a sight to behold. The nicely polished components spin and click behind the sweeping seconds hand, showing the complexity to be found even in a basic, dateless movement.

Too bad about the 9 o’clock marker, though. The numeral is partially cut away, creating this awkward reminder that the indices are simply painted onto the watch’s face. It’s a visual bummer, nagging at me every time I stop to enjoy the movement window.

Let’s round out this segment with a few words on the crystal. It’s Orient’s standard mineral glass, which served admirably on my Bambino. Here, however, the dome effect has been flattened considerably. There’s still a bit of rounding above the polished steel bezel, but nothing near the lens-like quality of its cousin. I actually prefer this approach. It’s easier to read at an angle, and the flatter surface will probably avoid scratches more than the Bambino’s bubble.

Strap/Bracelet

The Esteem’s leather band addresses another of my biggest annoyances with my previous Orient dress watch. While the Bambino features an oddball 21mm size, the Esteem has bumped things up to the much more common 22mm. This greatly widens the pool of potential replacement straps.

That is, if you feel the need to make a switch. The black “Genuine Leather” seems nice enough for a watch in this price point, and the signed buckle makes for a nice touch. I found this to be a thoroughly comfortable wearer. Additional break-in time would further improve the experience, softening the crocodile-patterned canvas.

Orient Esteem Review – Final Thoughts

After more than two months, I still haven’t warmed to the Esteem. It addresses several of my main complaints with the Bambino (hidden movement, no lume, and weird band size), but adds several nitpicks of its own. The spotty accuracy, plain face, and absent date window stick in my craw more than expected. Add in the slightly larger size and scratchy movement, and I find myself pining for the old days.

That’s not to say that this is a bad watch. It’s light years ahead of the Seiko 5’s of the world, whatever my complaints may be. But as the unnumbered days roll on, I’ve come to the conclusion that this isn’t the watch for me. My search for the perfect budgetary dress piece will continue.

However, none of this means that the Gen. 2 Esteem is a terrible timepiece. If you see what you like here, then I can still vouch for its comfort and construction. The accuracy isn’t great, but overall quality I expect from Orient is still here.

Orient Dress Watch (Model: RA-AG0010S10A)

Mineral Crystal
Open Heart Display
Japanese-automatic Movement
Case Diameter: 41mm
Water resistant to 50m (165ft: in general, suitable for short periods of recreational swimming, but not diving or snorkeling

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Orient Esteem at Amazon or Jomashop. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Also, if you like the watch reviews, here is a link to all our watch reviews.

Spyderco Spydiechef Review

by Josh Wussow 3 Comments

I didn’t get it. After tearing open the box and turning the knife over in my hand, I simply didn’t get it. Flat colors. Slow deployment. Boring construction. This is the legendary Spydiechef? It’s a weird-shaped blade sandwiched between two pieces of gray titanium, with a retail price of $215. What manner of magic has bewitched my fellow knife lovers?

Buy the Spyderco Spydiechef at BladeHQ

And yet, I seem to land smack in the middle of the Spydiechef’s target market: Knife guys (check) who care deeply about edge retention and rust resistance (double check) and encounter a variety of daily cutting tasks (indeed) while also cooking on the go with some degree of regularity (bingo).

Designed by the legendary Marcin Slysz and manufactured by Spyderco’s wizards in Taiwan, this knife should be right up my alley. And, while it may not have been love at first sight, the Spydiechef spent the last few weeks working its way to the head of the table.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

Dimensionally, there’s nothing too special here. You’re looking at a 3.32-inch blade, with a thickness of just under 0.12-inches. The handle/closed length is a middling-sized 4.46-inches, stretching the overall number to 7.78. Weight is low (3.8-ounces), thanks to the Chef’s flow-through titanium chassis. You’ve got the standard Spyderco wire clip, which can be mounted on either of the side slabs. Boring bronze washers, a snooze-inducing frame lock, and *yawn* a lanyard hole.

Here is a size comparison with the Spyderco Shaman:

But, it’s not the specs that make the Spydiechef such an excellent knife. It’s those delicious details that will bring one into my permanent collection.

Let’s start with the blade. Its LC200N steel has been formed with some sort of metallurgical witchcraft. While we’ve seen “rust-proof” steels before, such as H1 on Spyderco’s Salt line, this stuff is a whole new animal.

Here’s what the maker has to say about LC200N: “This state-of-the-art nitrogen-based alloy is extremely corrosion resistant and is actually used by NASA for the ball bearings used in aerospace applications.” Sounds great, but ball bearings aren’t known for holding an edge.

This is where Youtubers like Pete from Cedric & Ada come into play. His barrage of edge-retention and corrosion tests has established LC200N as one of the premier steels for EDC tools. While I didn’t subject the Chef to these sorts of extreme conditions, I can confirm that it showed no sign of rust after multiple cooking sessions. I’ve used this knife almost every day since it arrived, and the edge has yet to dull or dim.

The Chef’s blade shares two traits with many of my favorite cooks – It’s friendly to strangers, and it’s all belly. Despite its 3-plus inches of shiny steel, the graceful curve of Slysz’s design is easy for even the more paranoid to stomach. And, thanks to its flat grind and Nick Shabazz sharpening job, it’s been a slicer since day one.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

The Spydiechef’s handle is gray, like the color of boiled meat or the hair of an overworked cook. This titanium blandness was at least partially responsible for the knife’s poor first impression. But, once I got it in the hand, the subtlety of Slysz’s design became immediately apparent.

Take a look at my hand position:

Beyond its ergonomic excellence, the curve of the Chef’s titanium handle offers a significant advantage in the kitchen. It keeps the edge (mostly) below my knuckles, greatly easing the slicing and chopping process. Not as much as a dedicated kitchen knife, sure, but more so than any other folder I’ve handled.

The pocket clip offers another bit of subdued excellence. On the surface, it appears to be just another iteration of the classic wire clip. But take a look at that angle. It allows the knife to curve down and into the back of the pocket, keeping it out of the way of whatever else you may be carrying.

There are a few caveats here. While the reversible clip makes this technically an “ambidextrous” knife, the placement of the lock bar in relation to the Spydie-hole will make one-hand opening a challenge for lefties. And, though it’s technically stainless, the titanium handles do pick up smudges and snail trails. Neither of these is terribly troubling to me, though. I’m more than pleased with the Chef’s ergonomics, both in the hand and in the pocket.

Deployment and Lockup

As evolutionary as the rest of the Chef may be, the knife’s deployment and lockup are as basic as bacon and eggs. Not to say that chicken ovum and cured pork aren’t delicious (they are), but there’s a skill to handling even the most humble of ingredients. The combination of Spydie-hole and bronze washers is classic – Never flashy, but accessible and delicious. It’s a no-fuss, low maintenance setup for those who use their knives rather than playing with them.

If there’s one complaint I have with the Chef, it’s the closing action. Have you ever worked in a restaurant? The closing shift almost invariably sucks. Same goes for the Spydiechef. You have to nudge the blade up and over its detent, which requires applying force to the blade while your thumb is still in the slicing path. Exert too much pressure, and it could theoretically pop down and filet your knuckle. Now, I haven’t had this happen. The detent is soft enough that a gentle push will pop it over the ceramic ball. But, it’s definitely something that requires some fine motor skills.

Spyderco Spydiechef Review – Final Thoughts

This is a knife that’s put my collection in crisis. Between the Spydiechef, the FRN Chaparral, and the Kershaw Atmos, the other folders in my case aren’t getting much pocket time. The Native 5 has subbed in for a day or two, but the Kizer Begleiter, Steel Will Cutjack, and even my ZT0562 have been unable to crack the rotation.

This knife is so damned good that it’s dampened my enthusiasm for other knives. And honestly, I think I’m okay with that. This is a tool I feel good carrying, using and, in the near future, owning. It’s the Chaparral all over again – Nick Shabazz loans me a knife, and I wind up buying one. Thanks again, Nick, and a hearty “Well done” to Marcin Slysz and Spyderco.

Spyderco Spydiechef Premium Chef Knife with 3.32" LC200N Ultra-Corrosion-Resistant Steel Blade and Titanium Handle - PlainEdge - C211TIP

One of a Kind: The Spydiechef is an extremely refined folding knife that takes the user-friendly Ergonomics and balance of a world-class chef.
Ultra Corrosion Resistant: It features a gracefully curved blade crafted from LC200N. This state-of-the-art nitrogen-based alloy is extremely corrosion resistant and is actually used by NASA for the ball bearings used in aerospace applications.
Reliable High Performance: It offers an extreme cutting performance in a package that is immune to even the harshest environments.
Versatile: For additional security when working around water, the handle also includes a lined Lanyard hole for easy attachment of safety lines and Lanyards.
Ergonomic: To reduce weight, optimize balance, and simplify cleaning, the Spydiechef features an open-backed handle constructed with two precision-machined solid titanium scales.

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Spyderco Spydiechef at Amazon or BladeHQ. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.