An early casualty of Sunday’s surveying expedition. Before we hiked across the lakebed pounding stakes, before we set out across three dry washes to find a far corner, I got out of the truck and found I had left behind my sole.
That doesn’t mean the work was what Shakespeare called “bootless labour.” The cloth bottom on the upper held together even on our mile-and-a-half tromp across rock, gravel, and gopher holes. I had, let’s say, a heightened sensitivity to rocks and pebbles underfoot. But it was still better protection than walking barefoot.
I’ve never been a big fan of hiking boots. I know they give me better ankle support. I’d have to go back and look at the tapes to be sure, but I think I hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back about ten years ago in regular street sneakers. I think it was after that that Mom dragged me into an outlet store for hiking gear and made me try these on.
In a pinch, in the future, I’ve still got my steel-toe work boots if I need something with ankle support. That’s extra weight if you’re hiking, but better than hobbling miles back to your car on a twisted ankle.
Still, when it comes to footwear, I’m a minimalist.
1 comment:
Did you leave the duct tape home? I thought it would repair anything.
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