Farewell to old friends
As the new climbing season approaches northern Japan, I have found myself having to say a seasoned farewell to some old friends.
When your hiking boots start to give you blisters, and when they get your feet all wet in the snow, you know it's time to have them put down, metaphorically speaking. Or strung up, or any other snappy little analogical sentence that comes into your head. However, I won't lose too much sleep over their redundance because I've bought myself some new beasts:
Marvel at the spikey crampons I bought to go with them. The spikes I bought last year were about as small as you can get, and I found that they were next to useless in the warm snow later on in the year. I dropped a bit of cash on them, mind you, but in the long run I think they'll be worth it.
My old leather jobbies were good to me. They took me up the mountain at least twenty five times last year, as well as occasional trips elsewhere, and with a bit of luck I'll get twice the runs out of my new ones.
Bring on the weekend!
When your hiking boots start to give you blisters, and when they get your feet all wet in the snow, you know it's time to have them put down, metaphorically speaking. Or strung up, or any other snappy little analogical sentence that comes into your head. However, I won't lose too much sleep over their redundance because I've bought myself some new beasts:
Marvel at the spikey crampons I bought to go with them. The spikes I bought last year were about as small as you can get, and I found that they were next to useless in the warm snow later on in the year. I dropped a bit of cash on them, mind you, but in the long run I think they'll be worth it.
My old leather jobbies were good to me. They took me up the mountain at least twenty five times last year, as well as occasional trips elsewhere, and with a bit of luck I'll get twice the runs out of my new ones.
Bring on the weekend!
<< Home