So many of the lessons and learnings and sayings we have in and take from the outdoors translate over to life in ways both metaphoric and tangible. “Don’t step on what you can step over,” means that unstable log you’re thinking about balancing a footstep on as you proceed on your way hunting pheasants or grouse is likely best bypassed with a long, lifting stride, to prevent even the off chance of a twisted ankle. Like in life, some obstacles are best to be avoided altogether, instead of tempted, even if they don’t appear that big.

“Do the little things right, and nothing big will get in your way,” translates to knocking out the small preparatory items on a checklist — like sighting in a rifle, checking on a tree stand or doing a bit of summer scouting for deer season — will make you more prepared for when the big moment of a buck coming into view presents itself. My day-to-day is the same way — waking up, working out, getting the kids ready for school and making a checklist of things to knock out before five o’clock — sets the stage for bigger goals and establishes a pattern when those boxes on the sticky note get a bit larger or more intense.

There’s one saying though, passed on to me by my fly-fishing mentor, Einar, as we headed into the mountains of Norway more than 20 years ago, that thankfully, I haven’t had to lean too hard into. As we packed our gear bags at his parents’ house, he reached out and handed me a small hunting knife, with a well-worn wood handle tucked into a green nylon sheath.

“A man without a knife is a man without a life,” he said with a wry smile, as he detailed the challenges of the steep and grizzly-filled edges of the wilds on the 65th parallel where we’d be fishing around his family cabin.

While it took a couple of minutes to get the idea of tangling with a bruin using just the little blade out of my mind, with each stop along the way into the northern reaches of the country, I felt all the more secure knowing it was there on my belt for the entirety of the trip, but not so much for protection. The same has held true on every adventure since, regardless of it being in the woods or on the water, and the saying has become less a turn of phrase and more of a mantra for me as a result.

Whether it’s the fold-out blade on my multitool for slicing through the abrasion-resistant Fireline on my fishing reel to tie on a new lure, or the sharp one on my hunting knife which frees the fur from a just-tagged deer, or the keen edge of a fillet knife in my tackle bag that processes the evening’s catch of a couple walleyes or crappies for the frying pan, a good knife goes a long way in the outdoors. And while there’s not as much of a metaphoric translation to the real world, a well-cared for and oft-sharpened knife does its thing quite literally elsewhere from the workbench in the garage, to preparing dinner in the kitchen.

So, while I’ve never had to brandish a blade as a last-ditch defense against a bear on the edge of the Norwegian mountains, or a roving pack of wolves while walking in the north woods, or a marauding herd of zombies on the precipice of the apocalypse, I’ve found it useful in many other ways while hunting and fishing. And it certainly has at least made my life a whole lot easier both at home and … in our outdoors.