Your boots and your bed: if you're not in one you're in the other.
Regular readers will know that up until a while ago I was a firm believer in wearing 'approach shoes' and waterproof socks or Muck Boots for deerstalking (hunting), and was dismissive of proper clomp-clomp walking boots, that was until I woke up one morning and walked downstairs, as yer do. I've now got a bump in my achilles tendon that still hurts over eight weeks later. More ankle support is called for. Not that I'll be wearing them in bed, so they won't prevent a similar incident - but here's hoping they'll be a aid to recovery.
I really want a pair of handmade bespoke boots, but alas many many things are between here and there, all of them clamouring for money. So for the time being it'll have to be off-the-shelf. I flirted with the idea of this brand and that, I toyed with Kevlar instead of leather, but ultimately my dreams return.
There is a boot you see, ever since I first saw them in the long departed Survival Aids store in London's Euston station I've wanted a pair. Every nation has it's national boot maker, Sweden has Lundhags.
Born in the Swedish wilderness region of Jämtland, Lundhags are a simple un-lined boot. I've heard about the wonders of Thinsulate linings, but the quick drying practicality of the un-lined boot has always made more sense to me. At the moment they are hard and smooth; where one day they'll be soft and wrinkled, the Nubuck is pale and matt, soon it'll be dark and greasy with treatment. The other side of those first hard-yards they'll be a dependability that the much promised 'improvement' of plastic boots never seems to deliver. Dare I say it - they'll have soul.
I'm not the only one. There's something about the love a blogger has for his boots, that has brought forth some great writing.
From The Buffalo Digest, where the outdoor media is called as it's seen
'you can tell a lot about a man by his boots. I read an article by someone who was billed as some sort of expert backpacker, which I suppose is someone who is just really good at camping. I guess that’s just a weird distinction, because if you can set up a damn tent, not starve, pick up your trash and return uninjured, you’ve pretty much nailed it.' Boots
And the ever-wonderful Mouthful Of Feathers
I have to be honest – I rarely ever think about you. Which, I suppose, is the ultimate testament to how good you are at what you do. At times, however, I know this may come across as ingratitude, and for that, I’m sorry. You’ve accused me of being a fickle S.O.B. and I know there is a certain amount of truth to that. I expect a lot in a lamentably short period of time, and offer little more than neglect the rest of the year. Dirty Love
PS in part two we'll see how they got on after some dirt time