How CUNNINGHAMMERS are made

In the simplest terms I can relay, I'll do my best to explain the process that goes into my hard-using field knives. No secrets. One of the beauties of freehand made custom knives is that no two could ever be the same, even from the same maker let alone any other.

My knives are as unique to me as my own thumbprint, and while I have learned various means to producing lifetime-guaranteed blades, the following is my own path into this echelon. Though I remain a student forever, through my own testing and that of my mentors I have developed a recipe that I believe in. I've included a number of in-process photos below but if you'd like to see or know more, just ask.

I have been specifically trained to work with high carbon 52100 ball bearing and 5160 spring steels, selected for their ability to hold sturdy edges yet be resharpen-able when the time inevitably comes with a using knife... like cleaning your rifle, sharpening a knife is as simple and equally important. Stainless steels carry higher nickel content and resist rust, however they are much more difficult to resharpen (and grind) as the nickel makes the steel significantly tougher. These are factors that users and makers consider when choosing materials and as I do not mind (in fact I prefer) a handsome patina, so the high carbon steels take the cake.

A blade begins by welding either the ball bearing or 2" round bar to a section of rebar to be used as a handle for the forging process. Once the forge is cookin', I heat the steel until it reaches its non-magnetic temperature- this means that the chemical compounds of the steel are "basically" in fluid / play dough form and ready to be shaped without causing stress in the steel. If you hammer steel that's not hot enough it will stress, crack and break. I first shape the steel into a flat bar using trip hammers and presses, and once appropriately thin for a blade, the tip and particular desired shape are hand forged before the tang is drawn out. Maker's note: the spine of the knife is never directly hit by a hammer- the sides, and the edge are the only direct recipient of the strikes. Strikes harden the steel and we want to keep that spine as soft as possible for later. I should note that my kitchen knives do not receive this treatment- they are simply cut to shape on the bandsaw. The methodical thermal cycles and hammering of the steel compacts its molecular structures, which make it stronger and why one would bother with forging at all. Kitchen tools are not made for high stress work, so these extra measures would be arbitrarily applied.

Once a blade is completely forged to shape and stamped with my Cunninghammer logo, the heat treat cycle begins. The blade is re-heated in the forge to non-magnetic before quenching *edge only* in Texaco type A oil- repeat three times. This flash hardens the blade which essentially force-flexes those now re-oriented and compacted structures. The blade is re-heated again but this time is allowed to air cool *edge up* for the normalizing sequence which relaxes the steel from that initial flex. Holding it edge up ensures that the heat rises toward and through the edge. When this step is done in the dark, the heat can be seen moving through the steel in orange to red to black waves and is referred to as "the dragon's breath". Very nerdy, very cool stuff- sorry not sorry.

After the normalization, the blade is frozen at 0 degrees Celsius for twelve hours before an annealing cycle of 988 degrees Fahrenheit for two hours- but the kiln only heats up about 300 degrees F/hour to make sure we don't rush any good thing. The cooling takes about another six hours and after that it goes back into the freezer for twelve hours. This is repeated three total times to entirely soften the blade before the rough grind.

Out of the last freeze cycle, I first hand-surface grind the steel on a 2x72" 24 grit belt to remove any hammer marks from the forging process, which are all epicenters for failure in the event of a vice test, or needing to flip over an F-150. Sometimes they are just too dang handsome to remove and I leave them out of nostalgia and the belief that my blades are still diesel trucks and ready for anything the backcountry may throw.

I switch to a 36 grit belt to shape in bevels, blade profile, and hand-file the shoulders to guard-ready. Once done, I use an oxyacetylene feather torch to apply cautious heat to *just the edge* of the blade- much like a paintbrush, single s-stroke rolls from the middle of the riccasso to above the tip are repeated until only the edge is non-magnetic. Dip with a light rolling motion in Texaco type A at 175 degrees. The blade then cools in the quenchant to room temp before frozen at 0 celsius overnight. Repeat three total times. The temper cycle in my Paragon kiln follows with three freeze-separated cycles of 388 degrees Fahrenheit for two hour soaks, and then boom- we have ourselves a right about 59 Rockwell hardened edge that's ready for the final grinds. I have yet to calculate the exact math, but I'm pretty sure that puts my heat treat cycle at about 120 hours.

A sequence of 36, 60, 120, 220, 400, 600, 1000, 2000 grit and treated cloth belts on my 2x72 grinder get me through the blade grinding, and I don't work in a hurry. Once the blade itself is complete I test it. The standard is two hundred manilla rope cuts without sharpening, but frankly I don't do that many with every knife- that is part of the quarterly "hell test" that one blade receives to gauge where I am at and includes the destructive 90 degree vice tests. After dozens of manilla cuts, I apply as much pressure as I can running the blade spine-first away from me on a large brass rod to check for edge flex / breakage. Lastly, I stab that sucker. Through the grind process I check the tip on the steel of the grinder motor housing but I don't usually give it a full tricep- I do, however, give it the full tricep on large wood blocks. Weak tips and chipped edges are a pet-peeve of mine and I make a focus to ensure those are never your problem.

The blade passed the tests, so the handle begins with cutting a guard to shape on the bandsaw from either brass, copper or nickel silver. I like to pre-shape my guards on the grinder before any milling or filing- I'm able to do a better job of cutting in the curvature without finagling around the blade and handle lengths. I mill out the guard to fit as closely to the shape of the tang of the knife, and to ensure actually homogenous perfection, I really enjoy hand-filing, cold-forging and staking them in place. Before the solder is laid I can guarantee that guard is a solid unit to the tang and we're almost splitting hairs to go further, but a clean solder joint is a beautiful thing and worth the extra security against moisture.

The materials available to makers for handle and spacers are as extensive as the imagination, but I am a man of relatively simple taste and I like consistency, things made well and done right. I have come to find that antler / bone / stag and sheep horn / musk ox to be of the strongest and prettiest materials nature can offer while synthetic micarta balances the scales and offers exceptional reliability and beauty too. These three are my go-to, but that's not to say I don't have a stash of unique options for a rainy day. Choosing a handle largely depends on the blade itself. I look for tapers in material that line up to the spine and edge of a blade profile, creating natural flow that doesn't require much assistance. In other cases, handles start in block form with stock cautiously removed to fit and feel like a glove in the hand. Vulcanized fiber spacers are punched out in squares and then punched to fit tightly to the tang, and lastly the selected handle material is milled to fit the depth of the tang. Once every piece is dressed, smooth and fitting together perfectly, 24 hour epoxy is applied to the meeting-surface areas of each and secured at the desired orientation with sturdy rubber bands to cure overnight. Once dried, I rough grind a handle to shape with a worn out 36 grit belt, jumping over to various size, shape and grit hand-files to help bring out the contours, flow and feel of the handle. I finish the handle on the grinder with 120 and 220 grit j-flex belts, then switch over to 400 grit hand-sanding, a sequence of polishing on the buffers and a final sharpening and leather strop.

Finishing a knife is a remarkable moment for me. It translates into many other pursuits in my life I care about and is a truly validating experience e v e r y s i n g l e t i m e, and for that reason I always stop what I'm doing and take that brand new knife, and my dog, Goose, for a walk. It might be my favorite part of the whole process, and I've done it for every single knife I have made with my own name on it.

I proudly make my leather pouch sheaths as well. It's a simple process and one I don't think as necessary to share as is my critical approach to the knives they protect. If you'd like any information on the sheath process or would like a custom sheath or holster, please inquire.