My Keens weren’t allowed inside the Jeep until after a good airing out.
I knew this day would come. These shoes that accompanied me for so many miles were reaching their limits. How could we part?
I was surprised by the sense of loss I felt. Where does this strange emotional attachment to two ugly shoes come from? When I slip into my old Keens, suddenly I’m on the trail and memories of past hikes come to mind much easier.
Thankfully this attachment to things is limited. Limited in that I don’t feel an attachment to vehicles, pocket knives or typical items of clothing, but shoes are different.
I visited one of my favorite outfitters with my worn out shoes in tow. Placing them on the floor, I asked the salesperson for the same shoe or anything similar with a wide toe box.
The next morning I eagerly slipped into my new shoes and headed to my home trail just down the road. Every step felt fresh and bouncy. Those who play a stringed instrument will identify with what I was feeling. When you get new strings, there’s a richer resonance to the sound. While walking along, I thought of a bluegrass song by Ricky Skaggs, “Brand New Strings.”
My Keens* served me well on the John Muir Trail and many other trips before and since. They were with Hiker-dog for every step of writing Five Star Trails: The Ozarks. They took me every step of the 210-mile John Muir Trail from Tuolumne Meadows to Whitney Portal.
So, do I dispose of these old shoes? No way! They’ll take on the task of holding memories of the miles we hiked, the friends we made, and the beauty we’ve seen.
View from Mount Whitney on the John Muir Trail
* This is not an endorsement of Keen shoes. Wear what fits.
Yesterday I was on the Lake Alma Trail taking a photo of a spider when I realized that an impatient dog was standing silently on the trail behind me. She often strikes this pose as I pause to look carefully at something or take a photo. Hiker-dog rarely barks on the trail, but if I stand still for what she thinks is an unreasonable amount of time, she’ll let me know of her frustration with our pace.
Bob and I enjoyed stopping on the John Muir Trail to enjoy the scenery, filter water, or rest our legs. Below is another photo of Bob waiting with Zen-like contentment alongside the Ozark Highlands Trail. When he’s with a group, he enjoys waiting for the rest of us to catch up with him. 
A few years ago, we were heading to the Rocky Mountain National Park. Our vehicle broke down, so we spent a day in Grainfield, Kansas. We ended up enjoying this day in a quiet town, rich in history and delicious pizza. We spent some time at the railroad tracks imagining what life as a hobo might be like. Shane was a good sport as we waited about 9 hours for repairs. 
Hiker-dog is waiting for sundown on her first planned backpacking trip on the Ozark Highlands Trail. This was about one month after she joined our family. Her story of adoption is in the second post of my 
Below, Hiker-dog waits on a bluff overlooking the Current River in Missouri. She hiked almost all of the sixty-plus trails we scouted before narrowing the list to forty-three trails included in 
My last “waiting” photo is of my younger daughter waiting for clothes to dry on a family trip to the Grand Canyon. She stared at the dryer as if she might speed up the drying process. I think she inherited the impatience gene from her father.
I was pleased when Tanya, with Menasha Ridge Press, contacted me several months ago to say that my book would be included on the 2017 Arkansas Gems List poster. I never dreamed the poster would be so beautiful!
In each of these objects from nature there is beautiful imperfection. A cone flower petal misplaced or the tip of a butterfly wing snipped off by a predator. Those slight irregularities in structure reveal the frailty and temporary nature of the beauty. 
Though this galvanized watering can seemed out of place atop the ratchet sets and next to the nuts-and-bolts isle, it stood out with an artistic flair.
Ozarkmountainhiker 