Hello everyone. This is Woody in the Woody Shop.

Being Friday and all, I thought I’d tell you a story.

And seeing as how this is the first of our Frontier Stories, I figured we’d start with a fellow who was pretty well known for telling a few himself.

His name was Jim Bridger.

Although depending on the story, you might know him better as Old Gabe.

Bridger headed west while he was still a teenager and spent most of the next half century in country that, when he first saw it, very few Americans had ever laid eyes on.

He trapped beaver.

Blazed trails.

Guided wagon trains.

Helped establish a trading post.

Found routes through the Rockies that other people would follow for generations.

He was part of that first great generation of American mountain men, and his life crossed paths with some of the most remarkable people and events of the early frontier.

There are passes, trails and landmarks that still carry his name.

And somewhere along the way, Jim Bridger became something else.

A storyteller.

A very good one, apparently.

And not necessarily because he let the facts get in the way.

One favorite tale had a hundred Cheyenne warriors chasing him into a box canyon.

When listeners leaned forward and finally asked, “What happened then?”

Bridger would grin and answer:

“They killed me.”

Now, I never met Jim Bridger.

And I can’t tell you that I believe everything he supposedly said.

But I do know a fellow who enjoys telling a story now and then.

So when we started putting together these Frontier Stories and somebody said Jim Bridger, well...

I figured we’d probably get along just fine.

So what kind of knife do you make for a man whose stories had a tendency to get a little bigger every time he told them?

Well, you don’t make him a little one.

We made this one a full foot long.

Twelve inches overall.

A broad Alabama Blaze Damascus blade with hand-tooled work along the spine.

Beautifully figured curly maple scales.
Our Old Glory red, white and blue liners.

A red, white and blue mosaic pin.

Our signature Woody “W” pin.

A bronze lanyard tube.

And a rugged handmade leather loop-and-ring sheath to carry the whole thing.

There are some knives where restraint is the right answer.

This wasn’t one of them.

For a fellow who helped turn the American frontier into legend, we figured his knife deserved a little frontier swagger of its own.

 So we called it:

THE STORY TELLER

A tall knife for some tall tales.

I don’t know exactly what kind of knife Jim Bridger carried into the mountains.

But I’d bet you he knew the value of a good one.

My dad, the Original Woody, always said that a good knife was worth a day’s pay.

I imagine Old Gabe would’ve agreed. Out where he spent most of his life, a good knife on your hip wasn’t just something nice to have.

It was part of getting through the day.

Now, whether Old Gabe actually said everything that’s been attributed to him is probably beside the point.

The stories survived because people kept telling them — around campfires, across dinner tables and anywhere somebody was willing to listen.

That’s the idea behind Frontier Stories.

Next Friday, another story from the frontier — and another knife made to remember it by.

Until then, keep the coffee hot and don’t let the truth get in the way of a good ending.

— Frank