At Flytanium, we crave stories. It drives us to make all of our knives, tools, and accessories.
As we were working on one of our upcoming releases, the Bonfire fixed blade camp knife, we didn't have to look too far for a name or story.
Brian, Head of Product at Flytanium, explained: "10 years ago, I adopted an ex-racing greyhound named Bonfire Euphoria. He raced four times and then decided to rebel and didn't even leave the gate for his next two races. I think he always knew that a better life was waiting out there, full of hikes, lake dips, and couches."
How about this? If you're near a campfire, stay there. If you're not, open up YouTube and put on one of those fake fireplaces. Let's set the mood as Brian shares stories about Bonfire Euphoria.
Red Canoe
Literally the first weekend after I adopted Bonfire and out of an absolute refusal to cancel plans, my now wife and I loaded up our brand new family member into my Honda Civic, strapped a newly-purchased $50 Facebook Marketplace canoe on top, and headed to the Adirondack Mountains in Central NY.
In early evening, we got to the shore of the lake we had an island campsite reserved on. Everything online toted “easy paddle!” and “5 minutes by canoe!” But we quickly realized that was VERY incorrect.
Didn't matter to two 22-year-old idiots and our very precious vacation time and money.
We pushed the canoe into the water, loaded up our tent, packs, and cooler, and hoisted this very skeptical 75 lb dog into the middle of the boat with a blanket in the bottom.
With Emily in the bow and me in the stern, off we went.
It was immediately apparent how high of a center of gravity Bonfire has. This skeptical and now nervous greyhound started bobbing from left to right and rocking the entire boat with him. This precarious dance of Bonfire to the left and me and Emily to the right felt endless.
20 minutes into our “5-minute paddle,” this ex-racer found his now well-established standing time limit and plopped down to lick his damp paws. We both breathed out and realized that we really hadn’t been breathing since we pushed off. As the sun headed toward the horizon, we plotted further towards our little home for the weekend. Almost an hour in, we finally touched shore with a now snoozing Bonfire.
After another greyhound airlift to the rocky beach, we began setting up camp. Our site was one of two on the island, and this little slice of heaven was ours for two nights. The tent went up and dinner was started.
As we sat down to eat, we turn around and Bonfire has completely claimed the tent as his new den and was passed out. Squeezing ourselves in besides this dog for the night, I can’t say he was thrilled to share his space with us. Grumbles and growls every single time we tried to rearrange led to a long night.
The Saturday of our weekend was filled with joy and happiness. Watching this new-to-the-non-racing-world dog explore his new life was incredible.
My trip highlight was island hopping to scout and find firewood and Bonfire’s was finding a bacon grease filled cast-iron in our neighbor’s campsite and trying to fight his way back to it for four hours. His close second was finding a month-gone fish carcass with a hook still in it and then trying to fight me as I got it out of his mouth before it could do any damage.
Needless to say, this boy loves his food. The three of us watched the sun light up the fall foliage and then tucked in for a slightly more agreeable night in the tent. Dread hit us when we awoke Sunday and realized we were in for a rerun of the harrowing crossing to the island. We steeled our nerves and loaded up camp into the tiny red boat. This brilliant boy got plopped in and saw his opportunity — he’s had another hour to lay right down and snooze surrounded by his new family. He was out for the entire paddle back to the boat launch.
A month later, with the terrors of the first crossing fading, we drove to the Genesee River and packed in for another day on the water with Bonfire. He refused to go anywhere near the boat.
I sold that little red canoe the next spring.
Lake Dippin’
Greyhounds do not often swim. It’s my belief that they’re just too dense and Bonfire is no different. Wading, however? It’s Bon’s favorite pastime. It solves two problems for him in a single elegant action.
One: Greyhounds have a tough time regulating their body temperature. They have a body fat percentage that makes the gym bros jealous. On a hot day, literally any body of water we pass will soon find a goofy sighthound plopping himself down to cool off. Sometimes it’s just a belly dip. Sometimes it’s a full-on nap in a mud puddle.
Two: The water is far away from getting into Bonfire’s mouth because of those long legs. This thirsty boy will wade into an alpine lake just deep enough to drink without bending down at all. Or better yet, lounge out and then drink while laying down. Without fail, the water does not go down right and he’s soon hacking up half of what he got into his mouth. In his eleven and a half years of life, I still do not think this boy has actually learned how to drink correctly.
Either way, Bonfire loves his lake dips and I’ll give him as many opportunities as I can for the rest of his life.
Dead Crow Wrestle
Bonfire is a stubborn dog. Always has been, always will be. He knows what he wants and will let little stop him to get it. Luckily, most of the time, what he wants is a comfy bed and to be surrounded by people.
About a year after I adopted Bonfire, he got his heart set on something else. A huge crow had died in a particularly harsh Rochester winter, and we would walk past it every day on my lunch break. Every day, I’d suit up in my huge coat, mitts, hat, and balaclava then put Bonfire in his heavy weight sherpa coat and out into the falling flakes we’d go.
Without fail, as I tried to pass this ill-fated corvid, Bonfire would pull with all his might at what I imagine smelled delectable to a perpetually hungry sighthound.
The third day he decided that he’s had enough of being tempted and denied his prize. When a ripped, ex-racing greyhound that is 80% muscle and 20% bones really goes for something, there’s not a whole lot to do and even less when your footing is 6” of snow and a couple more inches of ice under that.
Bonfire dug in his claws, launched towards the dead bird, and I went with him. As soon as I regained some composure, I knew that this finely aged crow was probably not something I should let my dog get down his gullet. I’m honestly thankful that it was as cold as it was — I plenty of greyhound wrestling armor on.
I wish I could have been a spectator of this scene of bird-mouthed greyhound snarling at his human who is making a dive to sweep his legs and pull the crow out of his mouth as the snow flies up from the ground and comes down from above.
Eventually realizing he is outmatched, Bonfire submits and we stand there staring at each other for a few moments before both of us shake off and just continue on our walk like any other day. I think shortly after some other winter scavenger came for the feast and the site of the bout was covered by the next snowstorm. I always think that this canon event brought a new level of trust and respect in our relationship.
The Perfect Adventure Companion
When he was four years old, Bonfire developed progressive retinal atrophy and it didn't damper his spirits one bit. This now 11.5 year old, completely blind greyhound can still crush 8 miles with a couple thousand feet of elevation on any given weekend. While designing a reliable, enduring, adventure-companion of a camp knife, it wasn't a stretch to immortalize it to Brian's best friend.
