Take My Advice

The other day, when Dean was at a local sporting goods store preparing for a hike to Berg Lake, I overheard the salesperson give a novice backpacker poor advice. The customer had asked what equipment she should prioritize for an upcoming backpacking trip. To my dismay, the salesperson talked about backpacks, tents, sleeping bags, and clothing, but never once mentioned boots. I was so angry that it made my toes curl. I mean, how did he think the customer was going to get to that beautiful alpine lake? Fly there? It’s your feet that will get you there, and it’s your feet that will get you home! You had better treat your feet well if you don’t want to ruin your backpacking trip.

The salesperson’s poor advice reminded me of how poorly Dean treated me when he first began backpacking. He expected me to ascend and descend steep mountain passes, traverse scree, ford creeks, and hike on muddy trails all while wearing the cheap hiking boots he wore during university. These boots had weak ankle support, absorbed water like a sponge, and had soles so flexible you could fold them in half. I’ll never forget one backpacking trip where I got so wrinkled from hiking in the rain that I looked like a prune. At least I never developed blisters, but that’s only because those old, worn-out boots with barely any tread left were well broken in.

Then one year, it seemed our relationship was on the mend. Dean bought some proper hiking boots that were waterproof, had good ankle support, and a stiff sole that would grip any terrain. And yet on the hike up to Jonas Shoulder, I developed a quarter-sized blister on the back of my heel.

What did he do wrong? He didn’t understand that I am delicate. I don’t have calluses so just a little friction over a long distance will produce a blister. Rather than immediately applying moleskin, Dean ignored the hot spot and nonchalantly continued hiking. By evening the blister was filling with blood, only to break the following day, exposing raw tissue. The memory still stings. I can barely stand seeing him smiling in the picture below at Jonas Shoulder, while I am screaming with pain and bleeding all over his nice white socks. Thankfully, that incident taught Dean a valuable lesson, and he began applying moleskin at the first sign of a hot spot.

But if you think getting blisters is bad, wait until you hear what he did next. You know he shaves, cuts his hair, brushes his teeth, washes; why couldn’t he spare a little attention for me and trim my toenails before a backpacking trip? By the end of the first day, my toes were throbbing with pain from being hammered on all day by Dean’s boot. And if he accidentally kicked a root, it felt like a blunt knife was being shoved under my toenails. To make matters worse, the pain lingered for days, and my big toenail turned black and blue, only to fall off months later. I looked hideous! If I weren’t so attached to him, I’d never go hiking with him again.

I’m happy to say that after forty-five years of hiking, Dean has finally learned a thing or two. Besides good boots, moleskin, and a little trim, he packs three pairs of hiking socks, suitable for different hiking conditions. My favourites are the Merino wool ones that feel warm and soft, even in rainy conditions. He has also purchased some cozy backpacking slippers to wear after spending the day trudging in boots.

Dean had a fantastic backpacking trip to Berg Lake, thanks to me. This photo, taken along the trail at Emperor Falls, shows him wearing the very same boots he bought over 30 years ago–the ones that gave me blisters. As you can see, I have taken Dean to some stunning destinations, so please, take my advice: also prioritize your feet when purchasing gear. Happy trails!