Gimme that old soft shoe
By: Ilene Dube
I’m all geared up for my trip – literally. I just plunked down a huge chunk of my retirement savings on hiking boots.
Used to be – back in the 70s – that all you needed for a major camping trip was a pair of old jeans, a few T-shirts and construction boots from the Army Navy store – never mind that they gave no support. Who needed support at age 17?
We never used a tent. If the weather was damp, just lay a waterproof tarp – or even a poncho would do, long as you covered the head hole – under a picnic table and spread another one over the top of the table. Voila, shelter!
On dry nights we’d sleep under the stars in sleeping bags that never cost more than $20.
Now, with the expansion of businesses like REI and Eastern Mountain Sports, it’s all about gear. Gore Tex this, microfiber that – can’t go anywhere without Polartec.
Up until two years ago, when hiking in Tuscany, all I wore on my feet were a pair of old sneakers. Everyone else on the trip, wearing stiff leather space shoes they’d purchased at trendy outdoor supply boutiques, was so concerned that I wouldn’t have enough support, that I was ill prepared for this trip.
Meanwhile, they had to stop every few miles to put on more moleskin, spent most of the conversation talking about feet, while I was prancing on ahead.
I was all set to embark on my current trip in the same old sneakers when my Harvard Women’s Medical Health Letter arrived. The July issue featured a story on hiking, and of course one of the most important things, it stressed, was proper footwear.
In my advancing age, even going up and down curbs causes pain in the patella, so I broke down and went to EMS, looking first at the day hikers on sale.
It turns out that every middle-aged woman in Princeton was shopping for hiking boots at the same time – must’ve all read Harvard Women’s Medical Health Letter.
Of course the boots on sale didn’t fit right for any of us – they don’t really expect to sell those, they just set them out to lure you into the store. So I allowed the young salesman to talk me into one of the more expensive models – the "Tempest."
"If you’re going to hike in Europe, you’ll need a really cool looking pair," he said, as I eyed the picture on the box of a young woman with braided hair and supercool wrap-around shades. "In Europe they make fun of you if you wear anything that looks like a sneaker. It tags you as an American."
Heaven forbid.
And forget comfort.
Well, it turns out that even though my state-of-the-art hiking boots were among the most expensive, and will be cool looking to Europeans, you still have to buy the Superfeet inserts, if you want stability. Add 30 bucks. Then, because the boot is still roomy – and it’s supposed to be, assured the good-looking young salesman – you need to buy SmartWool socks at $13 a pair so you don’t get blisters.
I’ll wash them every night, thank you very much.
OK, that’s it?
No.
Your feet will get drenched unless you treat them with the special Nikwax waterproofing solution.
Now that I have my super new hiking boots with every add-on possible, and now that I’ve spent a Saturday evening waterproofing, the real work lies ahead: to break them in. I have to wear them every day for three to five miles, for two weeks.
The article also recommended that people with knee problems, like myself, use these light-weight telescoping poles for walking. At EMS, they are on sale for … was it $100?
"I’ll find you a stick in the woods," my son promised.
Good idea.