As you know the Captain is an avid hiker, ballroom dancer and runner. You also know he is in Minnesota where it behooves you to have a good pair of work boots pretty much year round. Ergo, you not only end up hiking in the work boots, but you dance in them (you get some strange looks from salsa dancers when you're the only one with steel toed boots on), wear them out regularly, and build up amazing large and toned calf muscles.
However, inevitably, the time comes where you outwork your work boots and it's time to get new ones. And that time for me was today.
The boots had worn out all of their tread. The rubber completely gone in certain areas and now were starting to corrode the actual boot itself. Not to mention Natasha was pointing out the sad state of disrepair my boots were in. This necessitated a trip to Fleet Farm which has Cap-taporrific boots and is where I go to get my boots.
However, I unexpectedly felt a little tug at the heart whereafter purchasing the new boots I immediately went to the trash can, started undoing the laces on the old boots that have served me so well, and started to remember the fine times and achievements I had with my old boots.
No less than 9 peaks.
Multiple hikes across the Badlands.
Scores of miles in the agate beds.
Thousands of miles of day to day walking and hundreds of miles of outdoor winter running.
And days worth of swing, salsa, and ballroom dancing, not to mention instruction as well.
And so it was with a little bittersweetness, I cast the old, trusty pair of boots, that had been on greater adventures than most other normal boots, into the garbage, whilst silently giving them a little internal salute for all their service.
Oh you laugh, but you know you would too.
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