Sole-less in paradise

Yesterday somewhere around Makapu’u, the sole of my hiking boots peeled off as I was walking.  I looked down and they were just flapping there, hanging on toward the back heel like a loose tooth about to fall out on a 7-year old.  Though I will not be receiving 50 cents under my pillow, sadly.  I pulled them off, walked back, and hung out on the shore. I was bummed, I really loved my boots, we’ve been through a lot together.  I’m surprised I hadn’t named them like so many other of my inanimate objects I adore (sad or funny?).  I blame it on Pele and Mauna Loa Summit.  That hike did me in, and apparently, my shoes too.  I suppose days on black a’a lava with a heavy pack will do that.  It seems like a timely end though.  They’d been through a lot.

My friend said it’s nothing shoe glue can’t fix, but I kind of want new ones.  Though I did think they were the best hiking shoes in the world and were never going to fall apart.  Even yesterday, I gazed down at them in admiration.  I have prided myself in making such a wise decision to purchase them 10 years ago at Hudson Trail Outfitters in DC. They were on sale and everything I wanted in a hiking boot.  And then yesterday they just fell apart.  Both at the same time, right in front of my eyes.

the boots. the soles. but not together.

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One thought on “Sole-less in paradise

  1. Sometimes things fall apart, glad you were able to keep it together. Sounds like you know when it’s time to let go of something.

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