The joy of walking boots
Boots. My boots. Ten years we’ve been together, hiking through rain and hail and snow and, of course, the sunshine times.
As a team, we’ve walked the Andes of South America – from the windy plains of Patagonia to the high, beastly flanks of 6,000m+ on Aconcagua and Chachani.
We’ve trekked the high passes of Peru and Ecuador and in the muddy rainforests of Guyana, not to mention been to Machu Picchu and the Galapagos Islands together.
Time has taken its toll, or course. I lost a big toe nail in Lochnagar, Scotland; you, a lace, on Kilimanjaro.
All about the talcum powder
Ten years on, and, despite the scars and wounds, the early issues we had (why did you insist on rubbing me up the wrong way?), we’re still together. Sculpted into each other.
With all relationships, you need to put the work in, change, and adapt. I added orthotics. You wanted new waterproofing spray. I went for Merino wool socks. You chose crampons.
A fellow hiker recently introduced me to the joy of talcum powder before and after a day’s walking. Try it. Bliss.
You are, of course, my beloved Scarpa Manta leather mountain boots, and when I see your cheeky wee faces, I think of walks to come and walks that have been, and it makes me smile. Happy Birthday, boots.
As Nancy sings, they really are made for walking.
