Scotland vs. The Arizonan's Revenge

Well before the point of misery.

"By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, where the sun [did not] shine bright on Loch Lomond", I discovered the difference between waterproof and water-resistant. While considering my packing list during my preparations for this journey, I decided that the words "boots" and "waterproof" were somehow optional. At least I disregarded these two words when I found the shoes I wished to take with me on my trip. Blue, lightweight, durable, good tread, but alas neither boots nor waterproof.

Until Loch Lomond, I did not realize what a horrible mistake those shoes really were. I do not know how many hours or how many miles that hike consisted of, but I do know that it rained the entire time. I also know that Scottish woods are mainly mud. I cannot recall ever feeling so miserable. I was soaked through every waterproof layer and well, my shoes did not stand a chance against those beastly highland mud puddles. That day, I cursed Scotland for betraying me. I cursed myself for buying stupid shoes because I thought I could not stand for my feet to be weighed down by something so bothersome as hiking boots.

Rowardennan Hostel

With a mile or less left to our hike, we sought brief relief from the consistent precipitation under some conveniently constructed shelter, and we all let out tremendous groans regarding our soaked and freezing state. Then someone said {I can't remember who} while looking down at her waterproof boots, "Well, at least my feet are dry!" I looked down at my blue-beauties and wanted to cry. They were caked in mud and my feet were swimming in the collected moisture within two pairs of heavy socks.

Needless to say, our hostel was the most beautiful thing I had ever beheld. I dripped myself to my room, rescued my books and journals from the puddle that had collected at the bottom of my rucksack, and stuffed my shoes with brochure pages {advice from a dear friend} that I had swiped from the reception desk.

During my shower--which immediately followed the rescue of my belongings--I contemplated my current love-hate relationship with Scotland and my shoes worst enemy: rain. I knew well that I was only at the beginning of many a rain-filled hike, and that I could not allow myself to be miserable for the remainder of the trip. I considered going out to purchase actual hiking boots or even Wellies to save myself from the rain. But I stubbornly refused to allow myself and my precious shoes to be defeated. I then gave my shoes a name: The Arizonan's Revenge. Together with my trusty shoes, The Arizonan's Revenge, I would conquer England, rain and all.

-KB

P.S. Once I was out of the mud I learned
to love Scotland once more, and Loch
Lomond is a vision of loveliness.

The bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.