While chasing waterfalls on my birthday eve, I lost my sole. Well, technically two.
Having completed roughly 85% of our Latourell Falls loop in the Columbia River gorgeous-gorge, I became a little tripped up: The undercarriage of my right hiking boot became a flap. I lifted my foot and saw that the sole was like a forked tongue, hanging on by a barely-there thread. Upon closer inspection, I realized this was the second, more internal layer of the sole, and the very bottom (outer) layer had been lost along the trail without me noticing. Funny how that happens. So, we pulled off the tenuously attached forked tongue, accepted what was, and continued the trail with my slightly lopsided gait. Apparently, that can happen when someone loses their sole.
A few steps later, déjà vu struck: a similar tripped-up sensation on my left boot. I lifted my left foot and inspected. Lo and behold, the left boot wanted in on the ground level of this disintegration operation. Was it out of solidarity? Competition? A sense of abandonment? I raised and tilted my left boot to examine—and without even touching it, the entire bottom fell out. There again, revealing a hanging-by-a-thread forked tongue. This forked tongue was also yanked out just as all forked tongues should be.
Now fodder for trail talk, we calculated the odds, curious how both boots would disintegrate at once. I did the math. These hiking boots were at least 16 years old. They’d trekked trails all over the world. They carried me to majestic heights. Gotten me through mud.
I chose to collect the fallen parts and layers into my Ziploc bag, which I keep in my backpack as a memento of this weird, miraculous synchronicity. (I keep a clean bag inside my backpack for things like leftover tasty treats, and now impossible feets.)
TLC sang that we ought not to chase waterfalls, but rather stick to rivers and streams that we’re used to, and maybe in their application, that makes sense. As for me, I choose to chase the majestic falling water, even if I lose some footing along the way. And it’s worth the cleansing spray.
We have so many unknown, unexamined, internal layers. Layers should be pulled back; some layers should be yanked.
The bottom sometimes falls out.
With wear and tear, some tread is shed. My step may be uneven, but my soul is not lost.
I’m getting new boots today. Happy birthday to me.