Misadventures in Becoming an Outdoor Adventuress
In all the years I’ve considered starting an outdoor adventure blog, I never thought my first article would center on a piece of gear. Unlike many of my ideas, this is a rare case of truly building from the ground up. From my hiking boots up. An origin story. Like many origin stories, this one started as a bit of a misadventure…
The weather was cold, grey, a bit on the slushy side. Late fall/early winter in a suburb of Pittsburgh when I headed out to do some shopping with my Mom, sister, and Nana (my grandmother on my mother’s side). We went to one of those mini outlet stores in a strip mall near the house I was renting, one of the ones that combines several so-so name brands in an effort to make things more exciting. Not a store that we frequented, but there we were and everyone had their shopping list. On the top of mine? A pair of boots suitable for my first hunting trip...cold weather, waterproof, the works. I was excited...and nervous. Wanting to impress my then boyfriend and at least be accepted as the only female at camp, I had to find something that sang to the outdoor adventuress that was my soul. Even if I didn’t quite always look the part.
Somewhere in the maze of t-shirts and socks, pillows, towels, bras and houseware, I unearthed a pair of dream boots. Snazzy tough brown New Balance Rainier high ankle hiking boots with chunky thick black Vibram soles, chromed orange accents, laces and nothing too girly. They spoke serious, and I knew they’d be perfect.
When I told my family I was going hunting, the news was met with a range of emotions. Scrunched faces, questions of why I’d want to go along on that type of a trip, and concerns for safety. Surprisingly, or not, I don’t remember Nana having any of these reactions. She took an active role in helping me pick the boots, wanting to make sure my feet would be warm enough, dry enough for a long day in the cold woods. When it came time to buy the boots, she took the boots and bought them for me. Nana bought us presents often on our shopping trips together, but these boots for a strange new adventure were more meaningful and symbolic...though I doubt I connected the dots at the time.
Nana had a lot of opinions about a lot of things, blame some on an older generation and others just from being so uniquely Nana. The reason she didn’t react with a scowl or grimace to the news of my foray into the world of hunting was because like me, Nana was a woman of many hobbies. She got an idea, project, or new adventure into her head and brought it to fruition...in some varied form of success.
I’d like to think that Nana, like me, had the “why not” mentality. I could certainly go hunt (rather learn how to sit quietly for long hours in the cold woods) if I wanted to...just as long as my feet were warm and dry!
So off I went, proudly toting my brand new boots and layers of ski clothes, off to camp. When I showed the boots off, the guys had a good laugh at my hiking boots masquerading as insulated winter boots. They were quickly cast aside and a pair of hand me down boots close enough to my size were brought in and tested on my feet.
The dream boots’ maiden voyage came to an abrupt end on that adventure! They may have had the honor of being worn for the car ride, or maybe on a grocery trip to Walmart. But, it certainly wasn’t the end for those boots...so don’t be too sad! Like many of the most special and treasured things, their value was years in the making, increasing over time. To my memory, that was one of the last gifts that Nana bought me on a shopping trip -- and certainly the most meaningful.
The boots retired earlier this year, but the miles we hiked together were packed with rocks and mud and memories. I laced up my boots. The weather was warm, cold, sunny, rainy, snowing. Together we hiked Yosemite Falls. Frick Park. Angel’s Landing. Seneca Rocks. McConnell’s Mill. Smuggler’s Notch. Mount Rainier. Over ten years wearing my dream boots. The boots were scuffed and mud caked, the soles on their second round of re-gluing, but some of the orange chrome still shining on our last hike at McConnell’s Mill. They weren’t a famous boot brand that graces the walls of REI...they were better! Each time I laced those boots, I thought of Nana and the gift of adventure she gave to me.
Now, the action is the same, with new boots and new trails, in places I know and others that I can only imagine. Stay tuned for my review of my new Ahnu hiking boots!
