Insomnia induced hiking and the ordeal of the perfect boot

First, the ordeal of the perfect boot. I'm one of those people who gets strangely attached to a pair of hiking boots. The way I see it, the most amazing places I have been or seen have been after I've had to hike a hard trail to be there. And my feet have taken me there. But on those feet have been my hiking boots.





My latest pair I've had for years. I'm not even sure how long. They're the ones I'm wearing in the picture of me with the marijuana. That was 2004. I'm pretty sure they were with me at Mount Rainier National Park in 2003, and I think they were the boots that I tramped all over New Zealand with in 2002. I have no idea how many search and rescues they've been on, or how many hikes in the trailless wilderness of Alaska. They were the boots that took me through the Orkney islands on my two day adventure in the rain and fog of Hoy. They were with me as I hiked over 100 miles that summer in Acadia National Park. They've seen the sand of Death Valley and the snow of Denali. I wore them in Kluane when I finally decided that after driving by that National Park four times I would stop and go for a hike in it.





Imagine my dismay when these dear companions of mine finally met their end. When I went hiking and the boots that have so faithfully kept my feet dry let the water in. The sole has detached from the leather and the leather is cracked. They're done for. Thus with a heavy heart, the search for a new pair of boots commenced.





I was at FLETC and I mentioned my boot dilemma to one of my classmates. A park ranger, someone who knows about hiking. He suggested a pair of the hiking boots we can get on the uniform website. I was skeptical. They didn't look at all like my Garmonts. They were Nubuck, not full grain leather. But he said they keep his feet dry. He works at Redwoods National Park, a very wet park. I figured he would know, so I bought a pair. Sadly, they did not meet my expectations, which were high. I had worn the perfect boot, how could anything else compare? These new boots let the water right in. There was no walking through puddles with impunity in those rotten boots. No superior ankle support. No backbone, no toughness. These boots would never hold up under a 45 pound pack and a 50 mile tramp in New Zealand.





So the search continued, but didn't start with any urgency until I started planning this trip to Nepal. I brought out the old boots, which I haven't been able to throw away (remember that strange attachment I mentioned?). I went to Garmont's website to find them. I couldn't. All I could find were these really high-tech fancy looking, colorful boots. All I want is the simple boot. Less stitching means less leaking. One large piece of leather is better than a bunch sewn together. I don't want fancy, I want what I had. And my old boots weren't made in China! I can't read the tag anymore, but I'm pretty positive they were made in some European country, where Garmont used to make their boots. I called Garmont and the very friendly English is my first language (at least they haven't farmed out their customer service people to India yet) customer service guy that I spoke to helped me figure out the model of Garmont boot that I have. It's the Garmont Bronco. He recommend a place to get the boots resoled (the heels are almost smooth), but I don't think that would help the cracks in the leather.





But armed with this new information, the name of my boots, Google and I were able to find a pair. Backcountry.com had two men's sizes, 8 and 8.5. I happily ordered the boots in size 8.5 and I was overjoyed when they finally came. My perfect boots, only brand new! They were a slightly newer model, they'd added some fancy Garmont label (where mine was just stamped in the leather), but otherwise they were identical. Until I tried them on.





Now, you may be thinking, WOW, Liz has some humongous feet. Men's 8 and a half? That means she wears a women's size 10! Yes, folks, I have some big feet. And evidently, in some shoes I am a men's size 9. The Broncos didn't fit. When I placed them against the worn soles of my old boots, they were an amazing inch shorter. And no, backcounty.com didn't have them in any other size. Neither did anyone else I could find on the internet. To get the full effect of my gargantuan feet, you really need to blow up this picture.




I mailed them back. I had already been to REI to look at boots. Made in Romania. Made in China. They all look really cool, but to me they look cheap. They're all fixing to fall apart with all that fancy stuff. I couldn't bring myself to buy any of them. Why spend over $200 on something that won't last? The boot companies have it all figured out. It's cheaper to produce their products in China and they'll sell more boots in the long run because the boots will wear out faster. But they'll sell them for the same price they always have. It's a win/win for them, but depressing for a boot snob like me.



I noticed that one of my coworkers has a nice pair of Vasques. He said they were the Sundowners and his were made in Italy, but a few years ago they started making them in China. I found out his Italian made version were made in 2005. I couldn't find them in my size either.



I ended up Googling "Made in Italy hiking boots" and I found the ones I decided to get. They're Scarpas and they fit (size 42). They have some of that fancy, extra stuff I don't care for around the ankle, but the leather all around the bottom half of the boot is the kind of thing I like. If you were wondering, they didn't come dirty out of the box. I did that myself.

So I think I have now found the boots that will take me through the Nepalese Himalaya and perhaps to the Hilltribe people of Northern Thailand (I haven't quite decided what to do for my layover in Bangkok). It only remains to break them in.

Saturday I got off work at 2am. My plan was to go to bed right when I got home so I could wake up early and go for a hike in the White Mountains with my new boots. Not as easy as it sounds. I wasn't able to fall asleep until 0500. I set my alarm for 1030, thinking that I could still go hiking if I got up that late. But once again, I had difficulty sleeping. I woke up at 0830 with no desire at all to go back to sleep. I figured I might as well get going. I made it to the trailhead by noon. I later slept for 11 hours, but it was worth it.

I picked the Welch Mountain hike. Lest any of you think that I believe anything that is 2605 feet high deserves the title of "mountain," never fear. I am merely adopting the local vocabulary so as not to offend the natives. I have lived in the Sierras and hiked in the shadow of Denali, I know what a mountain is.

It was chilly out. A fresh dusting of snow was on the trail and interesting ice formations were in the creek.

I didn't actually go to the top of Welch Mountain. This ledge with the view was at 1.3 miles. It was another half mile to the top. The view is of Mt. Tripyramid and Sandwich Mtn. It was very windy on the ledge and I'd scrambled around some really icy sections to get there. By now, my feet were hurting from the stiff boots, so I turned around.



Here's some of the trail once I got back in the trees. It was a nice hike and I didn't see anyone until I got back to the trailhead. I saw five sets of fresh tracks. One guy was wearing Yak Traks to keep his feet on the slippery ice. I wish I knew where mine were. They would've been handy.
My camera batteries didn't hold up to well in the cold, but I managed to get a few pictures. Even with the wind and the cold it was nice to stop every now and then. I remembered one of my favorite quotes, "A poor life this, if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare." And listen to the water in a creek, to the occasional bird, or to the sound of our own foggy puffs of breath.