From the Vault: These Boots…

By Eilene Lyon

…are made for working.

If you wander through our yard and look carefully, you might spy two pair of boots, in an advanced state of decay. They may seem an odd choice for landscape décor. Let me explain…

Back in 2008, I made a major pivot in my “career.” (I use quotation marks, since there is no linear trajectory in my work history.) In December 2007, I received my second bachelor’s degree in Environmental Biology. I soon secured a couple positions.

My goal was to spend my time outdoors in the natural world, rather than sitting at a desk, staring at a computer most of the time (and yet, here I am, again!). I lived this dream-job life for the next eleven years.

My first field work involved walking 12-kilometer transects in the Mojave desert outside of Las Vegas, Nevada, searching for elusive desert tortoises. We did this in teams of two, five days a week, camping in the field four nights. Sometimes we also had a significant hike to get to the start of our transects.

Field gear included a pack that could hold three liters of water and equipment, lightweight long-sleeve cotton shirts, long pants (soon shredded), sun hat, and of course, good hiking boots.

I purchased my boots from REI (made by Merrill) and they fit me perfectly. The Mojave is a rocky place and even the toughest boots take a beating. By the end of the four-month field season, this pair had reached their limit. But they launched me in my new career and provided my feet with solid protection and comfort.

It just didn’t seem right to simply dump them in the trash. I tried using them as planters, but that didn’t work, so now they just enjoy the natural elements as they did in the days they worked so hard on my behalf. Perhaps not a glorious retirement, but better than a landfill.

This second pair of boots I purchased when I worked for a catalog company called Back in the Saddle. They sold equestrian-related apparel and gifts. Technically they’d be called paddock boots. I didn’t wear them much until I started my second field job in the summer of 2008.

I had a seasonal contract position with La Plata Open Space Conservancy (LPOSC) monitoring properties for which they held a conservation easement. These are typically large ranches, but they vary quite a bit. I didn’t have to do the kind of hiking that the desert tortoise project required, but I needed something impervious to various weedy species, such as cheatgrass and Russian thistle.

My term with LPOSC lasted six years, and by then, the paddock boots had bitten the dust, like the REI boots before them. Again, they served as a symbol of my new outdoorsy work life, and I gave them a place in the yard, too.

My sentimentality about footwear had played out. I eventually settled on a style of hiking boot made by Ariat. I’m on my third pair (none relegated to the yard), but these should last a good while since I no longer work as a field biologist.

Yesterday, they served me on a field trip in southeastern Utah with the Native Plant Society. We had beautiful weather and learned many new-to-us species.

Part of the hike involved sauntering down a historic wagon road into Butler Wash built by the Mormons in the 19^th century. I can hardly imagine the difficulty and discomfort of this narrow, rocky route. And I’ll bet those Mormons might have wished for a nice pair of REI hikers!