I have been in need of winter boots for quite some time. After my last couple outtings my feet said, "We've had enough!" I was hoping to wait one more season before opening the wallet but I gave in.
I'm primarily going to use them for ice fishing and any photography/research trips I make where there will be cold temperatures and deep snow.
To test them out I went to Hoffmaster State Park for a couple hours. I took the tougher route to the lake to see how my feet would feel afterward. I spent a nice deal of time admiring the amazing scene at the shore. The waves were crashing against the ice, the wind was strong, and the temperature was about 18 degrees.
These boots fit everything I was looking for: affordable price (under $120), light weight, well constructed, waterproof, and of course, warm and comfortable.
They are amazingly light weight! At a mere 3lbs I hardly noticed that I was wearing them. This made trecking through the snow as easy as possible, without snowshoes. They're made of a nylon fabric rather than leather which drastically cuts down on the weight and, so far, doesn't appear to have any negative characteristics. According to their web site, the Shadowtrek's sole is specifically designed to be light weight and durable.
Speaking of durable, these were build to last! Every exposed seam is double stitched so I'm far less likely to run into the fabric coming apart. A nice section of thick rubber protects the toe area from any sort of abrasion I might get while walking through the wilderness.
Gore-Tex lining keeps the water away while still providing adaquite breathability. I stepped into some slushy, ice cold water. This would normally cause me to panic a bit but the Shadowtrek's Gore-Tex didn't flinch. When it came to the six inches of snow, I was totally free of worry. These can handle at least eight inches of the cold white stuff before they'll remotely think of letting any inside. On top of that, the footbed is woven with a wicking fabric, which, coupled with my wool socks and liner, helped keep my feet completely dry.
As I said, I walked for roughly 2 hours through 6 inches of snow. At no point did my feet ever feel the slightest bit cold. The 800 grams of Thinsulate Ultra provided the perfect amount of warmth. When it comes to comfort I was delightfully surprised.
This may sound like a sales pitch but it's hard to find a negative aspect of these boots. This may have something to do with me never really owning a good pair but I have owned some AWESOME shoes in my day and have those to compare to.
Along with the trip I described, I have worn these boots many times in various conditions, from simple driveway shoveling adventures to half day trecks in the woods. They are still as comfortable as the second time out... they did take that first trip to really break them in. And that's another thing... most leather footware takes a very long time to break in so I was very excited about the short period required by these boots.
If anything does come up on the negative side I'll be sure to post it here.
The most important lesson here is this: If your feet are telling you something, you should listen. That, or, seek professional help. However, they do say "let your feet do the talking."
Friday, February 8, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Questions from the snow
One after the other, one after the other, I place my boot into his footprint as I follow behind. The snow is deep – then, I was able to place my whole boot into the depression – I am barely able to do the same now. Then I was following my father; now, a great friend.
Then, I was wondering what he thought of me, what I could do to make him proud. How many fish will I have to catch to see it? How big will they have to be for him to say it? Something inside me commands that I dare not ask him these questions. The temperature was well below freezing and I could see my breath with each exhale. As we reach the lake, each step now brings a crunching noise from ice beneath my boots. There is also the sound of eager anticipation from augers turning steadily through the frozen barrier. I pace ahead to walk next to him talking about things I have long forgotten.
Now I am pondering something far deeper, yet equally unimportant. What do I do to make Him proud? How many lives must I touch to feel it? How deeply in their lives do I need to reach? Do I ask Him these questions or ask Him which path? Here, it is night. The brisk wind pushes through the leafless branches and carries with it an icy chill that bites at my lips. The sound of the air flowing through the trees brings me a peace I have not felt in quite some time. We reach a down slope.
Suddenly my foot is falling through the ice as I let out a short yell. My little boot and half my leg are now in the near frozen water. I pull myself out with a fearful look of astonishment. I don’t understand how I just fell through the ice. Did I do something foolish? He tells me that someone covered their used hole, making it nearly impossible to see. I feel slightly calmed that it wasn’t my fault but I’m sure that I could have avoided the inconvenience of the situation. He then gives me comforting information that the shanty has a space heater. It will warm enough for me to take off my snowsuit so it can dry and I don’t freeze.
His next step sends him down landing on his butt, sliding down a bit further on his back. I laugh loudly seeing that he is all right and take a safer path around. He tells me that he used to sled down the hill with his brother when they were little; long before the barrier was placed to prevent accidents from occurring from sledding down the sharply steep point. Walking further – this time – I receive no certain comforts. However, I feel that I need these moments, these reminders, these gifts.
As we sit in the shanty, I catch no fish. Except for a melted snowsuit (I sat too close to the space heater…) I leave with nothing.
Since returning, I have asked my questions, including many more. Except for more unanswered questions, I have only the usual waning feeling.
Upon further consideration, I have, in fact, one answer. A lack of response to a question I didn’t ask or an action I don’t take doesn’t mean they aren’t full of pride or aren’t listening. It is those subtle feelings He gives me and those less than obvious things he does. They tell me he is proud of me and He is there. I guess I’m still a lot like that little kid. I want to do anything and everything, all the while expecting a response that would satisfy my soul, a response to reassure me that I am doing the right thing. Less important and yet more pronounced, I want to be told what I need to do to earn his respect, to earn His presence. Little did I know I already was. So long as I do what I think is right and work hard at doing it, I will be following the right path, earning more and more as I go.
In the end, telling me that he is proud may defeat the purpose. Knowing that He approved, I might stop pushing ahead. While I have never been comfortable with this uncertainty, having never quite accepted it has determined who I am. My ultimate goal seems to be embracing it, this uncertainty, this faith. One last question… Does God leave footprints in the snow?
Then, I was wondering what he thought of me, what I could do to make him proud. How many fish will I have to catch to see it? How big will they have to be for him to say it? Something inside me commands that I dare not ask him these questions. The temperature was well below freezing and I could see my breath with each exhale. As we reach the lake, each step now brings a crunching noise from ice beneath my boots. There is also the sound of eager anticipation from augers turning steadily through the frozen barrier. I pace ahead to walk next to him talking about things I have long forgotten.
Now I am pondering something far deeper, yet equally unimportant. What do I do to make Him proud? How many lives must I touch to feel it? How deeply in their lives do I need to reach? Do I ask Him these questions or ask Him which path? Here, it is night. The brisk wind pushes through the leafless branches and carries with it an icy chill that bites at my lips. The sound of the air flowing through the trees brings me a peace I have not felt in quite some time. We reach a down slope.
Suddenly my foot is falling through the ice as I let out a short yell. My little boot and half my leg are now in the near frozen water. I pull myself out with a fearful look of astonishment. I don’t understand how I just fell through the ice. Did I do something foolish? He tells me that someone covered their used hole, making it nearly impossible to see. I feel slightly calmed that it wasn’t my fault but I’m sure that I could have avoided the inconvenience of the situation. He then gives me comforting information that the shanty has a space heater. It will warm enough for me to take off my snowsuit so it can dry and I don’t freeze.
His next step sends him down landing on his butt, sliding down a bit further on his back. I laugh loudly seeing that he is all right and take a safer path around. He tells me that he used to sled down the hill with his brother when they were little; long before the barrier was placed to prevent accidents from occurring from sledding down the sharply steep point. Walking further – this time – I receive no certain comforts. However, I feel that I need these moments, these reminders, these gifts.
As we sit in the shanty, I catch no fish. Except for a melted snowsuit (I sat too close to the space heater…) I leave with nothing.
Since returning, I have asked my questions, including many more. Except for more unanswered questions, I have only the usual waning feeling.
Upon further consideration, I have, in fact, one answer. A lack of response to a question I didn’t ask or an action I don’t take doesn’t mean they aren’t full of pride or aren’t listening. It is those subtle feelings He gives me and those less than obvious things he does. They tell me he is proud of me and He is there. I guess I’m still a lot like that little kid. I want to do anything and everything, all the while expecting a response that would satisfy my soul, a response to reassure me that I am doing the right thing. Less important and yet more pronounced, I want to be told what I need to do to earn his respect, to earn His presence. Little did I know I already was. So long as I do what I think is right and work hard at doing it, I will be following the right path, earning more and more as I go.
In the end, telling me that he is proud may defeat the purpose. Knowing that He approved, I might stop pushing ahead. While I have never been comfortable with this uncertainty, having never quite accepted it has determined who I am. My ultimate goal seems to be embracing it, this uncertainty, this faith. One last question… Does God leave footprints in the snow?
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