I
t wasn't until I finally shot the turkey that I noticed what had happened to my boot. It was twice as
large as normal, a clown shoe of sorts, and the first line of my internal dialogue was "I don't feel
injured."
Yet something still wasn't right. Both of my feet were wet, as they often get when turkeys pitch
down from their roost on the wrong side of the creek and I'm forced to quickly head them off. But
these boots had been wet and muddy before. They were my three-season,
do-everything walking boots that have accompanied me everywhere from
Dawes to Richardson counties and all places in between.
Now I had a massively swollen foot – so swollen, I thought, that
I must have broken something when I slipped from a dirt wall I
was trying to climb earlier in the morning. Yet it didn't hurt at all.
Perhaps I was in shock. I sat on a log and looked at the sole of my
boot. Through the caked-on mud I could see my sock. My sock?
Why was I seeing my sock?
Then I smiled, finally understanding that this is what a boot
looks like when you've worn it so much that you have
completely torn out its rubber sole.
Some might believe a boot isn't worth its weight if it
doesn't last a certain number of years, but I'm not one
of those. I remembered a conversation I once
had with former NEBRASKAland writer Jon
Farrar. Every gun, he said, needs at least a few
scratches on it.
I think boots do, too. And, if they get enough
scratches, they will fall apart on their lucky
owner.
Quite often, I am approached by a friend
or colleague trying to convince me that I
need the newest in new technology or gear.
I usually counter with the question, "Do
you think it will hold up?" I need rods and
reels that can outlast a trip or two down
a dusty Sandhills road, a bow that won't
rust when I want to archery hunt during a
rainstorm, and a pair of boots that will, at
some point, spontaneously combust
– yet only after leading me
on one of my most
memorable turkey
hunting ventures of
the season. ■
Jeff Kurrus
May 9, 2018
A Life Well Worn
62 NEBRASKAland • JUNE 2018
