No! Not the boots!

I think I need to throw out a pair of boots.  This pains me.

A few years ago, JD and I were being touristy in Arizona.  Technically, JD was being touristy and I was looking for an opportunity to have a beer.  But we were both there, wandering around.  The town was attractive, with nifty Victorian houses and interesting shops.  Some of the shops even weren't selling t-shirts.  We were wandering around looking at things when I spied a hiking shop.  (Possibly a shoppe.)  I can't possibly resist going into a hiking shop(pe) that I've never been in before.  JD humored me and we went in.

It was amazing.  Boots everywhere.  A shop(pe) cat that would let you pet her.  And an actual, knowledgeable, thorough boot fitter.  I was in heaven.  For the first time ever, somebody took the time to understand my weird hobbit feet and find me a pair of Merrell boots that really fit.  I left the shop(pe) a couple hundred dollars poorer, but much much happier.

After a little bit of break-in time, the boots became a part of our happy family.  They cradled my feet.  I felt secure on all sorts of surfaces.  I modified them with barrel locks so they were quick to put on and adjust.  And I hiked many miles in them.

Then I attempted a thru-hike.  And like most hikers, I abused my feet to the point that they got a little larger.  I didn't notice, because I was wearing a different, lighter pair of boots.  A size nine pair of boots.  My feet, technically, were size seven and a half.  I like room for my toes.

During my thru, I decided to wear my old trusties for Pennsylvania.  PA is full of rocks.  Mean, nasty, pointy rocks.  It's where boots go to die.  Definitely the time and place to wear your perfectly fitted, sturdy, happy boots.  So I swapped boots and set off into the rock infested wild.

I didn't feel the rocks.  Much.  What I felt was my little toes getting pinched.  At the same time that the boots got me over many obstacles, they tried to extinguish my littlest piggies.  My small toenails are still black.  It became apparent that the first three months of my hike had expanded my feet to the point where my beloved boots didn't quite fit anymore.  I kept wearing them, because my other option would have sacrificed the rest of my foot.  My little toes gave their all to save my feet.  It worked out.  But I was really happy to see my other boots when I finally left the rock zone.

Recently I decided to wear my Merrells.  Maybe my feet wouldn't be swollen and my toes wouldn't be pinched.  I must sadly report that I was disappointed.  My toes are definitely pinched.  I think the foot growth was permanent.  So even though there is still a little tread left on the sole, and for once in my life I didn't crack the leather near the ball of the foot, I am retiring my Merrells.

Goodbye, dear boots.  Thanks for the memories.  We'll always have Bake Oven Knob.