In the valley, weeks before the fires, I get my first taste of Yosemite National Park. We only have one day to see it―by the end I max out my pedometer. A new daily record, even though I regularly hit 30,000 steps working at Whole Foods.
On the palace staircase to Nevada Falls, my hiking partner loses her shoe. The sole partially detaches, folding on itself like a dog-eared page. We are some hard miles out of Happy Isles. Momentary panic. Resignation. Deliverance, squeezed out of a tiny tube of superglue.
Miraculously, her other shoe had given out the day prior, when we were still in town. I MacGyvered it with superglue, and she had the foresight to bring the tube to Yosemite. As we trekked, marveling at roaring waterfalls and towering granite edifices, her shoes fell apart again. Not once but three times. I don’t know how we made it back without serious hardship. I used up all the glue and cinched the back of the shoe with a piece of string.
This incident taught me a few things. One, hiking shoes that haven’t been used in years can disintegrate without warning and are not to be trusted. Two, always bring superglue in your backpack (can be used for first aid in a pinch!) Three, be grateful for the reliability of your own shoes. I almost didn’t purchase my Altra Lone Peak 5s in the first place.
You see, I’ve never considered myself a hiker. I was always just a person that hiked sometimes. My lack of identity meant I never invested. I wore the same running shoes on the trail that I wear to the gym and to work. One day I tagged along with my brother to REI and he convinced me to purchase a proper pair of hiking shoes. They were in the co-op’s used section and they were just my size.
"These are like the ones I use for backpacking,” he said. “They’re light, you’ll love them. It’ll change your life.”
Since then, the Lone Peaks have accompanied me on many hikes and made it to five national parks. I hardly notice them when I wear them, which means they are an effective piece of gear. Proper footwear is arguably the most important part of any outdoor activity. You take it for granted, until something goes wrong. I distinctly remember fishing two foam FILA soles out of the Narrows in Zion. That person must have had a hell of a time getting out of the river barefoot.
Maybe if the unfortunate FILA owner had stopped at REI, they might have been inspired to try a better suited pair of shoes. The used section is a win-win from a financial and environmental perspective. It lowers the barrier of entry to expensive outdoor hobbies, allowing people like me to try high quality items for less. It also gives gear a second life. I don’t know who had these shoes before me, but I’m glad they took the time to drop them off.
Even after an exhausting day, I wanted to walk more in Yosemite before we had to leave. My Altras carried me in solitude through meadows so green they were almost yellow. I drank in falls and streams with my eyes. My sense of self melted away in insignificance before the Sierras. I understood in my heart the rapture John Muir wrote about so fervently.
As I gazed at the reflection of Half-Dome from Sentinel Bridge, I dreamed about returning later that summer. This time, the Lone Peaks would help me traverse the cable section.
Then, the Washburn Fire happened. Due to air quality conditions, we were unable to hike Half-Dome. It was devastating seeing Yosemite a smoky shadow of its former self, when I had basked in its glory mere weeks before. My thoughts are with those fighting the fires, including the Oak Fire currently raging in the foothills.
Although I did not achieve what I set out to do, I remain optimistic. My Altra Lone Peak 5s will live to see another adventure. In the meantime, we should focus on protecting the natural spaces we have left. Climate crisis and increased traffic into national parks pose a threat to wilderness, but we can all do our part by leaving no trace. The more people are educated, the better chance we have. We must tread lightly on such hallowed paths.
Comments