By Faith Gonia
When I first started hiking, I dreaded the sound of others’ footsteps. Fearfully, I turned my head at the distant clumps of another pair of boots. But, my love for nature overrode the danger of going alone. Pepper spray in my left hand, phone in my right, I laced up my Merrells and embarked into the woods.
My trusted boots never let me down. Holding up for miles of solo adventures, they have trekked through thick mud in the winter and dusty dirt come summertime. The Merrells kept me company on the quiet trail.
“Do you have to go by yourself?” my mom always questioned. Impatient, I assured her that the trail was safe. While I did love hiking alone, my mom’s question had a definitive answer: yes. Because who would I go with?
However, last summer, my Merrells met several of my closest friends, whom I would soon get to spend hours with in the Bay Area mountains. Together, we’ve gathered a community of trail-lovers. Whether we are hiking Mission Peak in Fremont, or my go-to Almaden Quicksilver loop (Mine Hill, of course), we spend hours chatting away amongst the trees. The trail is not quiet anymore.
Even though they hike a little too fast for me sometimes, who else will hike seventeen miles with you on your seventeenth birthday? Or, drive to a trail at 5 a.m., only to find that parking does not open until 8?
With even more mileage, my Merrells began to wear down. I finally decided that it was time to part with my original hiking buddies. Opening Google, I typed “Women’s hiking boots,” pressed enter, and scrolled through the dozens of options. My eyes fell upon a suede pair with red laces, on sale for Black Friday. (My apologies to my wise AP Government teacher, Eric Buran, but I did participate in the consumerist holiday.) Five days later, a large box arrived on my doorstep. Its label? Columbia.
My Columbia boots now sit by the front door; my Merrells, in my closet. But my dirty, scuffed boots will always hold a place in my heart, and so will hiking alone. I will continue to take to the trails solo sometimes. To my Merrells, thank you for keeping me company when the woods were too quiet.
Wearing my Columbias, I am joined by countless other boots beside me on the trail. But I don’t turn my head.