Just in Case Winter Decides to Make an Appearance

Happiness is, or is at least increased, by a new pair of bunny boots.

At right: the old pair.

The old set was beginning to get a bit worn.  The tastefully applied duct tape dates back to a dog (then a puppy) with the usual chewing issues.  As the material of the boot aged, the tops were cracking in random spots.  And, in testament to the wonder that is duct tape, I think that that is the original piece I slapped on there. 

I'd had my the old, first pair of bunnies since 1994 when I still thought I would spend a few more months in Alaska and then move back to the Lower 48.  I bought them off a friend's husband (who had very small feet for a dude.)  They were one of the best outdoor gear purchases I've ever made, landing squarely in the sweet spot of price range and foot happiness.  (Unlike, say, those stupid Sorel Caribous which supposedly are great down to minus 20.  To that I say, "Ha!") Yes, they are ugly.  Funny-looking, check.  Heavy.  Unwieldy.  And yes, they are not suited for all temps, for sure, it needs to be cold to break these out, otherwise, ugh, sweaty feet.

At right:  the old pair, so beaten up that the little valve thing to close the bladder in the boot just finally broke off.  On both boots!

Yes, it is a bit silly to get sentimental about a pair of boots, fergodssakes, but these were the boots of my twenties.  My really, really, fun twenties and very nearly all my thirties.  I got good enough to drive stick shift wearing them (no small feat, a ha ha) and could even run in them, if need be -- for short distances of course, I'm not talking training runs.

I'll not ditch the old pair.  They'll be relegated to the ever-accumulating 'spare gear' stash for visitors and folks who don't have proper equipment.  Despite their increasing decrepitude, they'll still keep somebody's feet warm.