Tic, tic, tic… The sound of steel against flint… However, you may be surprised to learn that the face of this budding bushcraft instructor in whose hands these tools were located was screwed up like Dot Cotton sucking a wasp! The reason for my gurning was fear – pure and simple. Flint is just so super slice-y and, since I’ve got no lymph nodes left to look after my left arm, I have to be very careful to avoid cuts, scrapes and, most especially, thorns. Plus, I enjoy having functioning...
