This feature was greatly appreciated on one dark, humid night while on a rescue of three stuck hikers. I was clinging to a cliff, sawing through layer after layer of old and rotting tat (climber’s term for old cord or webbing left behind on an anchor to aid in descent) attached to three bolts making it impossible to secure myself and a hand-line. The gaping depths below me clawed at my feet, which were balanced delicately on sandy, sloped footholds. Thankfully, my Temagami knife sliced through the grit-covered, sun-baked tat like a hot knife through butter and I was able to secure myself before the dark void beneath me could claim yet another victim.