The best gaiters in the world cannot be purchased from a store. They are handmade. Seriously. And you can make them yourself.
Cowboy boot gaiters in tall (and stabby) grass
I have worn many different gaiters over the years. Lightweight gaiters for my trip to the most gorgeous dunes in America, lighter-weight DirtyGirl gaiters for my trail running days, and others that were supposedly for hunters. All this done in my quest to prevent pebbles and stabby grass bit from working into my shoes and socks and poking holes in my skin (and maybe avoid migrating foreign body which is a very real and potentially deadly issue for dogs and why not people?). I also like to wear comfy pants instead of heavy canvas-like things and those grass seeds just love to snag into the weave of said comfy pants.
Gaiters are supposed to prevent sand, rocks, and grass from getting into your socks and maybe also prevent the bottoms of your pants from wetting out while you walk on the dewy hillsides. Typically they tie around your calf and under your shoe. They offer, at best, moderate protection from all that nature that wants to glom onto you and little to no protection from thorns, snakes, and other ankle-biters.
I was ruminating on this issue with my judicious daughter as I picked grass seeds out of my socks and shoes. Anyone who has walked across a hillside in late summer or early autumn knows the potential extent of this job. “Judi” related an experience with a sage at camp who made gaiters out of cowboy boots. Sky has had a rather storied life and brings much practical wisdom to the people at this camp in the western desert of Texas. I was determined to try this new gaiter out for myself.
For anyone who has worn them, cowboy boots are amazing. Except on dewy hillsides or multi-mile hikes, or craggy rock faces. But really, the problem is the soles which are great for saddles but not for hiking. Sky had solved this problem by combining the best part of cowboy boots with the best part of hiking shoes. I knew I had to try this for myself. Just as soon as I got all the danged seeds out of my shoes.
Get yourself a pair of boots that will fit over your calf easily. The sole size doesn’t matter.
I searched for a couple of months at every thrift store I saw for a pair of boots with an inexpensive price tag for me to cut up. I finally found these lovely boots for seven bucks and commenced to cutting.
I found that my favorite pocket knife, a Kershaw, was the best tool for relinquishing the sole from the upper.
Best pocket knife ever easily cuts through apples and leather boots
Stab into the upper of the boot just above the sole.
I chose to leave most of the foot covering attached because I frequently wear breathable shoes that grass seeds love to infiltrate.
One upper liberated, one to go
Checking to determine how much of the toe portion of upper to remove. I like to cover my shoelaces as much as possible.
After removing the sole, slip the boot/gaiter onto your calf before putting your hiking shoe on to try on the gaiter and decide where to trim. I found that trimming was better done with scissors.
To put these gaiters on, slip gaiter over calf, then put on shoe. Slide gaiter down over shoe and hit the hills
Gaiters in action
Then slide the boot down over the shoe and head out to your favorite grassy area. Does it look silly? I don`t think so, any more than any other gaiter and actually quite a bit more stylish.
Stabby grass and such are no problem any more
Only a few seeds got me by grabbing onto the shoelaces. These are easy enough to ignore, if desired.
That night at camp around the lovely fire you can look silly as you kick back with a beverage while everyone else is picking grass seeds out of their stinking socks.
Chillin’ and warming up after the hike
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Ahh, once again I sallied forth to the hells of the nearby appropriately named canyon to spend a couple of weeks gorging on asparagus and test my new system of poison ivy avoidance.
The start of the trip was less than auspicious due to heavy rain causing a road to partially slide off the mountain thus, and rightly so, necessitating the closure of the only road to the trailhead from which we start our journey. Being a person who firmly believes if there is one way to do something, there are a thousand ways to do it, I began to consider options to the “wait and see” attitude of the people in charge of fixing the road. Wait and see as in, wait and see if the road slides further (it did, about 6 inches when I went to see for myself), wait and see if the rain will start up again or if conditions will dry enough to let heavy equipment up there. Regardless of what might come, the authorities were saying it could be a week or more before the road was actually open. After some discussion, the don mentioned an alternate route to get to the Snake River, one much less popular because, instead of starting at river level like the preferred trailhead does, this starts at mountaintop level, thus necessitating a 4,000 foot drop to the river which is done practically in one straight line following a creek. Have you ever taken 2,000 steps straight down? Boy, there were some shin muscles tweaking out at the end of that, I’ll tell you!
Ready for Antler hunting. Finn sports her GPS collar with the antenna
Leah also got to do what she was built to do, haul mules up
a winding one-lane mountain road. Doesn’t she look grand?
Leah doing her job as a real ranch truck.
Here is an example of how harsh the terrain is here in Hells Canyon. This knife edged ridge looks crazy-sharp! And the weather was slightly ominous.
Heading out from Cow Creek. That is Oregon across the Snake River with all the snow on that seemingly flat horizon.
Okay, let’s see if Monty can remember that mules are not his
friends and one cannot walk between the pack line.
Monty and the pack line
Here is one of maybe two switchbacks during the entire descent to the Snake River. It was a bit on the steep side, as per usual around here.
Never thought I’d wish for more switchbacks
And all that rain made the difference between creek and
trail somewhat undetectable.
Trail IS creek
Finally we made it to Kirkwood Ranch on the Snake River.
Lots of green grass for the mules to enjoy while we took a 3 minute break to
stretch those shins. Only 11 more miles to go so better not dilly-dally. I’ll
write a later post on the old homesteads I found in this area.
Lovely Kirkwood Ranch on the Snake River
We took turns walking and riding Stella, the don and I did.
With Monty’s “issues” around me being on top of a mule, I rode only on the wide
and flat spots where Monty could have space to make different choices if he
found himself drawn to the mule’s legs. With a bit of babysitting, Monty only
once cut in front of a mule during the whole trip and thankfully the mules were
paused. Monty is definitely getting better but since he is who he is I don’t
think I can ever relax when he is around mules. He just doesn’t believe they
can hurt him. It’s so funny to watch how different the other two dogs are from
him around the mules and also just being on the trail. The other two are
hunting dogs, they roam hundreds of yards away up and down the hillsides and
stay far away from mule feet. Monty does not get far from “his” pack, always running
between people if we are not all together to check up on everyone. He also
checks up on the mules though they don’t seem to appreciate his concern for
their welfare.
Stella and the don
Here is my view from atop Stella with Monty safely following
the don. No, the picture isn’t crooked, it just there are few flat spots around
here.
My view from Stella
Hell’s Canyon is also the only place I’ve ever been where
one has to be wary of poison ivy and rattlesnakes in the same place. I don’t
mean along the same trail, I mean in the exact same place. Here’s a rattler. He’s
little and not inclined to move fast but still I chose not to goof around with
camera angles to try and get him and the poison ivy in the same shot this day.
But see here, this photo is from a couple weeks later nearby and you can
totally see the ivy. I swear, if it isn’t one thing it’s another… and I’m
thinking I need to look into that rattlesnake vaccine they have for dogs.
Baby rattlesnake
snakes and ivy, oh my!
Though the day started out cool with storms threatening, it
cleared and became quiet warm as we headed up from the river to our base camp.
By the time camp was reached, the mules had walked maybe 18 miles and the dogs
had probably done twice that. Everyone was ready for a rest.
Sweaty ass
Dog Tired
Dog Tired 2
Boy, it’s amazing how quickly those dogs recharge!
Especially Finn, who is not even 2 years old yet. You might remember her from
last year, the puppy who runs through poison ivy all day and then wants to
climb into your sleeping bag at night. Sorry, Finn, no snuggles from me this
year. Finn had a GPS tracking collar to wear this year as she can sometimes
roam a bit too far afield. She was actually tracked running 32 miles per hour
on this trip! Now you see me, now you don’t.
Finn and Q
Finn-less
One warm day the mules and I stayed in camp. Just watching
these guys napping in the shade can make you feel sleepy. That is, until they
start yawning. How can you not laugh at those faces!
Henry aka Thing 2
This is me in every meeting ever held. “Try to keep the eyes
open, c’mon… okay, close them but have a thoughtful look on your face so you
appear to be really focused on what the speaker is droning on about… don’t
yawn, don’t yawn, don’t yawnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Rats.”
Being so far removed from light pollution, we can see
zillions of stars in our little slice of sky. One very early morning I decided
to capture the gorgeousness of the darkness. With the full moon lighting the
canyon walls, I held my breath and tried to channel complete stillness to take
this photo of what I think is Sagittarius over the ridgeline. The nights are so
mesmerizing one hardly notices the chill.
Stars over the canyon
And finally, the whole reason for this trip, imo…
Gatherer!
Asparagus! Freshly gathered. It would appear the animals here do not eat asparagus. See in this photo below how the green stalk is surrounded by dead dry stalks that, if not flopped over would be 4-5 feet tall. Those are last year’s asparagus. No one ate them. It was pretty early so the majority of asparagus hasn’t yet popped up enough to pick but I still got plenty to keep us in green veggies for the trip.
Growing wild
While basking in the glory of fresh tasty vegetables for
dinner, I looked up and noticed a plane drawing lines across the sky.
Have you ever noticed that the contrails break up and begin
to look like condensed chromosomes during metaphase? No? What, that’s just me
that sees this? Must be all that biochem. Well, now you’ll start seeing it too,
next time you see a contrail.
Metaphase
The advantage of traveling with the mules is that we can have good food, not just that dried stuff. I am terribly spoiled by the don, I will admit. He makes a great cup of coffee and then follows that up with a breakfast that would rival any fancy brunch restaurant.
Spoiled rotten, I am. the don makes coffee for me every morning.
Cowboy coffee
hella breakfast
In addition to asparagus, the “purpose” of this trip is to find antlers.
I’m not very good at that yet. In part because I’m still so overwhelmed by the
newness of everything around me and I’m distracted by so much awesomeness. It’s
also because I still have to look where I am walking so I take 10 steps looking
at the ground, then stop and look around for antlers but then I see a
waterfall, a burned log, a beautiful flower, my dog being cute or bored. But,
strangely enough, I did find an antler all by myself! Sadly, it had sat out in
the sun for many years or perhaps it had been engulfed in the fire that went
through here a few years ago but either way it was beginning to “rot” and
become chalky. I enjoyed the thrill of discovery and left it where it lay.
Bored Monty on steep hillside
Monty with my antler behind him
Nothing but vertical
Lady elk hanging out
Flower from ground view
Bleeding and burned
How can I find antlers when you look so cute all the time
Which do you think is more poisonous, the caterpillar or the poison ivy
Monty on Lightening Ridge. It’s really that knife-edge sharp
just another pretty view
The antler I found all by myself
Monty in Cougar Basin
However, the don had spied an antler near camp and we took a
morning walk to get it. I went down the hill to retrieve it, Monty got excited
and wanted to help. (As an aside, in Houston these would be called mountains so
I can honestly say I walked down a mountain to get this antler.)
Sadly the trip came to an end and it was time to pack up and
head back to civilization and daily showering. Of course, it wouldn’t be a
proper HC trip without a photo of the don shirtless. To be fair, by the end of
April it does get very hot in the canyon and no sense getting one’s shirt all
sweaty when you can’t easily wash it. I don’t mind at all.
