I bought this pair on sale at the REI in Houston. I still have them now, so you can imagine how little use they got over the past ten years.
Last week, I started using them to walk around the neighborhood.
Then I realized I’d never gone off-road with these shoes. So I took a three-hour stroll in the hills behind my house.
The first thing I realized was that I was landing too hard on my heels instead of the ball of my foot. I had adjusted properly for the pavement, but the rocky texture of the trail needed an even lighter touch.
Over the past two years, we’ve spent most of my time at home barefoot. I’ve never been a fan of shoes and I always took them off when I could. In Berkeley, I would walk around town barefoot (youthful craziness), but it’s been a long time since I’ve walked around without padding.
The coolest thing about not having padding in my toe shoe was that it pushed me to go off-trail to look for softer ground. That lead to some interesting landscapes and a sketchy moment when I suddenly realized the top of the ridge was a sheer drop at the other side – while a bee was chasing me along!
But it all worked out OK. I have a slight bit of soreness under my feet but otherwise enjoyed the experience.
These shoes are a keeper. I’m not sure I’d pay full retail to purchase another pair, but after my current pair of Crocs wears out, these toe shoes will become my regular going-out slipper. In other words, they aren’t going to make it to twenty years.
The Sunday after writing that draft, I went on a walk around the neighborhood. It was a busy day so I only planned a quick jaunt around the subdivision. However, my feet had an itch wanting to go off-road. So I obliged, spending a couple of hours off-trail, going up and then down a couple of arroyos. It was glorious.
It was fun to have an object on my body demand that it be used the way it was intended to be used (as a sword thirsty for blood). We make our tools, and sometimes they make us.