Forgotten Feet
“You are never going to believe what I forgot,” I said standing at the edge of a bed covered in neat piles of backpacking gear.
I could hardly believe it. For all these little things, these fiddly bits that I did remember, the one thing missing was possibly the most crucial.
My shoes.
Complete, total, dumbass, rookie mistake. It’s the one piece of gear that needs some age on it. Your feet need to be friends with the particular curves and bumps of the leather.
I had worn my zero cushion, no drop trail runners when I walked out of the house hours earlier – and distinctly remembered thinking “these will be such a nice treat to put on afterwards.” Agreed, but they weren’t going to cut it with a loaded pack on a trail of unknown surface quality.
So, less than twelve hours away from getting on trail for four days and more than a four hour drive away from home, I found myself in a shoe-sized pickle.
Then I remembered that cute, super well stocked gear store next to the restaurant we’d visited at dinner. The one where we remarked hey, this has people who actually hike and backpack and climb in mind. A quick search reinforced that theory because they opened at 8 am the next morning. No one knows the importance of an early-ish start like those who have been on trails past darkness.
So I walked with a purpose not shared by the folks enjoying their coffee and strolling up the main street of Pinedale, Wyoming. the next morning. Nope, I was performing the walk of hiker shame.
Unsurprisingly, I was the first customer. The wall of shoes held something close to the pair sitting by my back door. The salesman, perhaps pitying me, didn’t ask many questions.
At the trailhead parking lot full of chattering adventurers, apprehension coated me in a film. But this was a point of no return. I was not going to let my mistake keep me from a few nights in the Wind Rivers.
It ended up okay. The shoes were good enough, my feet adapted with a minimum of redness, and we got to walk up to some alpine basins. The tundra’s tiny, tough, little plants and the lakes with their shiny, clear waves are one of my favorite ecosystems.
So, I forgot my shoes. It wasn’t the end of the world or even the end of the trip. But it’s an excellent reminder of the importance of thinking on (and of) your feet.
Inspired by events in the Wind River Range, Wyoming