We went for a hike this morning. The first hike in a loooong time. Actually, that's not true, we did do one earlier this summer. But for some reason, the hike we did today felt like a first. Maybe because it's the first fall-like hike of this year. Or maybe it's because I used my hiking boots from high school. As I laced them up I was transported way back to the day I got them.

My parents and I were driving (for whatever reason) near Troutdale, Oregon, and stopped at the outlet stores there. As we shopped we came across a pair of hiking boots, brown and green, my favorite colors at the time (I was heading for a forestry major, remember). My parents encouraged me to try them on, and when we found they fit, they announced that they would buy them for me. I was shocked, because I didn't think I needed them. Sure, I wanted them, but I didn't need them. Plus, they were 35 bucks, which I thought was expensive. My parents basically told me to never mind the cost, and said that they wanted me to have them as a way to support what I was interested in. I think I may have wore them out of the store.

Those boots have been on several hikes with me, though not as many as I would like. I've hiked in the Columbia River Gorge, the Oregon coast, Lava Beds National Monument, the Oregon Coast Range, Mary's Peak, the Cascades, along the McKenzie River, around Clear Lake, across old lava flows, and into lava tubes. I like the memories I have attached with the boots. And I like that I still have the boots. And after this morning's hike, I was reminded of how much I really enjoy hiking, and I made a silent promise to myself to get out more often. After all, these boots still have good tread on them!