Thursday, June 7, 2012

Boots


I hate new boots.

I like old boots. They're comfortable. They hold great memories. They communicate that this isn't your first stroll off the pavement.

I generally wear the old ones until they fall apart. A few years ago a buddy who spent a year in the desert convinced me that Danners were the best boots for living in so I gave them a try. I didn't go for the hardcore high-tops that his profession chooses but instead went with a hiking variant. It was a good choice.

For four or five years they've traveled about on every sort of mundane domestic chore as well as a few trips to more spectacular locales. I've hunted in them. Fished in them. Gone to Starbucks for a Frappuccino in them. I've even done some hiking.

They're well worn; an old baseball glove comes to mind. Still watertight. I've gone through several sets of laces. The laces that are currently strung seem too new to abandon. I'll have to find some use for them.

I've given up on this pair because they've finally given up on me. The tread has been worn fairly smooth. Not baby bottom smooth but smooth enough that the parts that need to grip when grip is necessary no longer serve the purpose.

Last winter I got little purchase while shoveling. Thankfully there was little snow. A couple of weeks ago I was walking along a trail and slid down a tricky slope. Only my cat-like reflexes some minor miracle prevented me and my camera from taking a good bounce.

So the new boots were ordered. The same make and model.

Something is different though they sure do look the same. They're lighter.* The leather seems thinner. The tongue is not as robust; though that may actually be an improvement. And I keep tripping myself as I shuffle my feet and the tread actually grips.

I'll be breaking these ones in over the next few weeks. I'll have to go get them muddy, too. I can't show up in Yellowstone with crisp new gear. My feet have walked too far to be thought of as pretenders.



* Which will be helpful in outrunning Rebecca, Chris and Marc when the bear starts chasing us.

10 comments:

  1. I had a pair of all leather, mocassin toe Rocky Outbacks that I felt the same way about. Unfortunately, they discontinued the model.

    I'm still looking for a replacement. Maybe I'll check out these Danners.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The model I have is the 453 GTX Hiker. It's a great boot.

      Delete
  2. Old boots are good friends. On my bookshelf sit my first wading boots and a pair of soccer cleats that carried me through many a tilt. Both are as full of character as they are of holes. Can't wear either of them any longer but am loath to give them up. So they stand displayed - good conversation pieces filled with great memories.

    Good luck with the new Danners!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Mike. I'm trying to figure out what to do with the old pair. It just seems a shame to put them on the curb.

      Delete
  3. Yes, new and improved boots are always better made aren't they. Make sure Rebecca is close behind you. We wouldn't want the Outdooress injured. You can sacrafice Chris & Marc..

    Mark

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'll try to keep some semblance of chivalry whilst soiling my linen.

      Delete
  4. Steve, I am also a fan of Danner's! I just got a new pair a year or so ago and have really been pleased with them. I say you did the right thing in getting a new pair, but, keep the old ones for the memories. You can still wear them to get Starbucks!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I like it. It's kinda like retiring an old hunting dog. Not the first dog in the field but still good for around town.

      Delete
  5. Yes, I know what you mean. I bought a new pair last summer in hopes that they would be broken in by the time fall rolled around. Never could get them worn in, on my feet or in my mind. Spent last season with my old Vasque SuperHikers.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Before I bought the Danners I was a loyal Vasque buyer. I've found that boots don't need as much break in as they did in the good ole days.

      Delete