Amy Lu's View

I failed spectacularly at preparing for our recent “Big Vacation,” at least when it came to having functional hiking boots. 

I can’t blame my poor performance on lack of time or knowledge. Chad and I had been planning our Salish Sea UnCruise vacation since Christmas 2019. I had plenty of time to prepare for our vacation. I had ample opportunity to procure the clothes and supplies I needed to vacation successfully. 

Yes, there were many times when I thought we would never ever be actually able to go on the vacation because of Covid–we were originally supposed to go in May 2020 to celebrate our 25th Anniversary and 50th birthdays and we rescheduled twice–but still, in the midst of time-consuming Covid-related anxiety and disappointment, I had time.

I discovered my potentially disastrous mistake on the day we were about to go on the Big Hike on Orcas Island. 

Every day we went on some type of hike, but his was was billed as one of the more demanding hikes of the trip. We were going to hike 2,409 foot-high Mount Constitution.  

But first, we would have a chance to look around the historic Moran Mansion. 

We got out of the skiff boat that we took from our Safari Quest to the pier, and I almost tripped. My tripping isn’t surprising in and of itself, but something was amiss. Something was hanging off of my right foot. I was making a flapping sound when I walked. 

I stopped. I looked at my boot. I realized the sole was coming off. 

I simultaneously experienced a panic attack and the grips of depression. What could I do? Okay, okay, I can make this work, I told myself. I’m resourceful, I’m determined, I’m tough. I am NOT missing this f$%cking hike. I had a plan, I need to follow the plan and prove that I’m a bad-ass hiker (at least by the standards of this trip), plus it is supposed to be beautiful and actually promises to burn some calories. 

I tried to hold my sole and boot together with a rubber hair tie. 

This lasted for about 2 minutes. 

Our island tour guide for the day, Bethany (who was amazing and worth a blog post just about her), encouraged me by saying something similar happened to her once and I could “Leave my  sole on the trail.”

Yeah, that was cute and funny and inspirational, but I was pretty sure trying to hike this trail with  non-intact footwear would be slippery and dangerous. So Bethany suggested I ask the mansion/resort staff for duct tape. 

I did, and the staff was super helpful and nice and gave me some duct tape, and Chad tried to tape up my boot, but it was soon clear that it was hopeless.

I feared all was lost, when our tour guide Daimar stopped by and we eventually realized that there was still time for one of the crew members to get back to our boat and grab my tennis shoes for the hike. Before long I had my tennis shoes and the hike commenced. (Yes, the hike was pretty, and rather challenging–it WOULD have been disastrous with one damaged boot– and cold and rainy, and I probably burned the caloric equivalent of a Manhattan and a glass of wine).

I was highly embarrassed by my misadventure, especially since it was all caused by my own bad decisions. Yes, I do usually love attention and often pride myself on not having shame when I do something uncool, but I don’t like attention for causing a situation that makes me sad AND inconveniences others.

I totally could have prevented this: My boots were over ten years old and had already hiked around Scotland–how did it not occur to me to check their condition before we went on our trip? Especially as Chad has just noticed that his boots–the same age as mine– were in bad shape right before we left and we spent time in Seattle making sure he had a new pair. 

I also felt guilty because my dissolving boot sole left a trail of debris in the mansion/resort that the kind and helpful staff had to clean up. 

Although cringe-inducing, I guess my boot debacle wasn’t that surprising. I have never been great at packing. I put a lot of thought into it, but I usually feel like I haven’t packed the right clothes–yes, I can get by, I’m not walking around naked, but what I bring with me is usually too casual or too dressy or not right for the weather. 

I actually did do somewhat better on this vacation. Hiking boots aside, I was 75 percent content with the clothing I packed. And I tried to have appropriate clothing, I really did. I was mostly stymied about having functional hiking pants that wouldn’t make me cry because of the havoc wearing them wrought on my self-esteem. I have never found a pair of hiking pants that don’t make me feel squishy in all the wrong ways. 

My main overall complaint is that I did not pack clothing that was warm enough. Yes, I knew that my primary vacation activity would be frolicking in the wet and cold Northwest so, again, I don’t have anyone but myself to blame. But oh, there were times I longed for gloves and a hat. 

But back to my boot story–it DID have a happy ending, and I’m so appreciative of the crew member who got my tennis shoes, and Daimar, and Bethany, and the resort staff, and my fellow passengers who good-naturedly teased me a bit.

And of course, to Chad, who valiantly tried to save the day with Duct Tape.