I'm retiring my boots. Hardly seems a thing worthy enough to waste ink or cyberspace on, but these boots and I have a history. I bought them 1997 or 1998, not sure which. They are a pair of Zamberlan all-leather hiking boots, hand-crafted in Italy. I got them for a song as they were clearing out the current year's models at the time. Frankly, all-leather hiking boots don't change all that much year to year. Since that time, they have hiked on trails in Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan. They have been on day hikes with my kids and extended backpacking trips in two different states. They have carried me up 14,000 foot peaks in Colorado and scrambled over the scree of foothills in Idaho. They have braved slippery rocks caving in Kentucky.
They have been fastened to snowshoes, gaiters and crampons. With a little care, they remained quite water resistant for more than 10 years (waterproof most that time). Once I started to get seriously into upland hunting, they endured even more mileage and worse terrain. Cattail swamps, a variety of bogs, gnarly, clothes-ripping cover, creek crossings, lake retrieving, nothing seemed to be too much for these boots. I replaced them last fall. They are still comfortable and still have held up well, but have lost all pretense of being the least bit waterproof.
Actually, they won't retire entirely. They will still do service in the summer and dry days in the fall. I don't tend to get very sentimental about my possesions anymore, excpet those that are finely crafted or have served me particularly well. I guess that is why I am writing a post about boots.
