When I left for Boot Camp, I entrusted my mother with my three favorite possessions: my guitar, backpack, and the thousand-league spanning ( it seemed) D-ring Engineer boots. I didn’t part from these things in a lighthearted manner. They were at the core of my roaming ways; they were a definitive symbol that shouted Pius Itinerant. Having a pack, boots, and a guitar will make traveling easier.
Later, when I returned to reclaim them, only my guitar remained. In a fit of household cleaning and reorganizing, the boots and the pack were trashed. I suspect that even my mother suspected that getting rid of Charlie would be a bit of idiocy too far for any forgiveness, and kept the guitar.
I eventually forgave my mother, but learned the lesson that she was a compulsive declutter bug and could not be trusted as the custodian of relics of the past. In later years, my sister and I rescued family photos from a decluttering sweep,
The Boots
But the boots. The boots were greasy calfskin, d-ring engineer boots out of a second-hand clothes store in Lower Manhattan. They, and the pack, were the first purchases I made on the day that I departed Greenwich Village for the road. I can still recall how they enclosed my calves and protected my feet on the road. They were roomy enough to hold a boot knife or an emergency stash of cash taped to the side seam.
Being a newbie, I was following the advice of my mentor, Bill, on how to equip myself for the voyage into the world beyond the City. Basically, the guitar was the extension of my voice, the pack ( with its contents of books, clothes, and oddments) my house, and the boots my transportation between offered rides. Now that is an important distinction: offered rides, not begged rides. We were Pius Itinerants, professionals at what we did. Ride with us and be entertained with tales of our journeys and exploits. We were your gregarious companions. Not as suggested by the common hoi poloi of law enforcement – beggars of rides. We had class.
So, as you imagine, the boots are gone. I never found a good substitute. but they will never be forgotten.
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I still can’t believe you lugged books along on the road. Kudo’s!
Sci-fi, a book on forestry, stuff like that.
My favorite boots are in the middle, the Merrells with blue laces. I had them resoled 4 or 5 times until there wasn’t enough leather left to resole them again. I left them in Switzerland. This photo is Zion https://marthakennedy.blog/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/boots-2.jpeg
I wore and loved Merrells for decades, but recently I have not found a pair that really fits my feet with the orthotics. They made great shoes and boots!
Orthotics make a difference. They still make great shoes and boots — a few years ago I replaced those leather boots with a throw-back retro version. I loved them but they were more than I need in my current life, so I sold them. I wear Merrells all the time. I “hike” in Moabs and wear Encores in the house.
I have to go this spring to some “real shoe stores”; there is nothing anymore where I live, and fitting is everything
Yes it is. That’s another reason I wear Merrells. There is an outdoor outfitting store here and otherwise? Walmart. I know what size I wear with Merrells and which “styles” work. If they change things??? I might have to take Teddy to Lowe’s…
As one who also appreciates shoes that hold stories in them, I remember crying when I discovered water had gotten into the tote holding my leather Sketcher boots, utterly destroying them. It’s so hard to find shoes like back in the day… hugs
Shoes and boots that we really like, and are comfortable are hard to find.
I have terrible flat feet, and I find Sketcher’s are about as comfortable as I can get without paying huge bucks…and then maybe winding up with somewthing that winds up feeling bad!
I know. I also have very flat feet, as I ruined both my arches walking marathons. I’ve happily worn Sketchers for at least 20 years.