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.


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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