Random Thoughts from a Couple of Weeks in the Life

A fellow lives in a big city surrounded by tens of thousands of houses with expressways nearby and jet planes flying overhead.  He retreats into his backyard amidst the noise and congestion and makes a selfbow and a set of arrows from a piece of elm and a bundle of river cane.  In an even bigger city on the other side of the country another fellow lives in an apartment encircled by more apartments and houses and tall buildings and dingy factories.  He sits in his living room watching television shows about survival as so-called “experts” go off into the wilds to battle the elements…replete with film crews and nearby helicopters just in case their skills fall short.  Midway in between the two great cities a man makes YouTube videos about “sustainable living.”  In the background one hears 18-wheeler trucks rumbling past on that great highway connecting the two megalopolises.

I recall a line from the old movie, Red Dawn, where the character playing the downed pilot says about war, “It’s here every day.”  Like that stretch of highway between San Antonio and Dallas or maybe between San Diego and San Francisco or Allentown and New York or Gary and Chicago.  Millions of cars and trucks race north or south or east and west.  You can stand ten miles away on either side of those freeways and hear the howling of all those vehicles.  If you happen to live near an international airport like DFW between Dallas and Fort Worth you no longer know what it’s like to live in quiet.

A few weeks ago I was in Galveston, Texas and as I skirted that place called Houston I came under the flight path of airliners queued into the distance making their approaches.  Twenty-four hours a day those planes land and on the other side they take off.  Does the mind become immune to the constant noise, I wonder?  Or does it work its way into the brain via channels that cannot be closed and then festers in places like the heart and lungs and even the bones?

I stayed at a motel in Dallas the other day and like every other motel in Texas saw that the people who keep it operating come from other places.  Cleaning the rooms and mowing the grass they speak no English.  Saw road crews manned by these same people.  Saw houses being built by the same crowd.  I see farms run by their kin and in fact I know of a nearby “farm” that were it not for those laborers there would be no food produced, no eggs gathered, no fields tended.  They are the bosses and if anyone thinks otherwise then they are simply fools!  Without them the entire system collapses within hours.

People struggle to make ends meet.  The masses often live from paycheck to paycheck.  They exist powerless: mere pawns and minions agreeably tethered ideologically, religiously and politically to their masters.  They turn on their radios or television sets and listen to people who tell them how and what to think.  They vote as instructed with nary a thought as to whether they have just acted outside their own interests.

I heard a lady say the other day she wanted to ban assault rifles and high capacity magazines because she wanted to “save lives.”  So I proposed a solution.  You say it’s all about saving lives, I said.  Okay, so let’s ban all assault rifles and high capacity magazines and make it illegal to possess them.  But at the same time you must ban abortion.  There was a moment of quiet and I asked: You want to save lives right?  The lady nodded but I could tell she wasn’t pleased with my plan.  So I said: How is it that you were so worked up about the killing of twenty innocent five-year-old children but then walk those same children back a few years (four, three, two, one and then a few months) and it’s perfectly okay to kill them in the womb?  If it’s really about saving lives then let’s save lives, I said.  But the lady countered with, “We don’t want women seeking abortions in unsafe places where they might die.”

There were one-million two-hundred thousand abortions (1.2 million) in the United States in 2011.  There were about 32,000 gun related deaths (most of them suicides) in 2011.  Now let’s do the math.  It would take 37.5 years of gun related deaths (at the 2011 rate) to equal one year of abortions in the USA at that same 2011 rate.  It would take 60,000 Newtown, Connecticut shootings to equal one year of abortions.  What happened in Newtown was beyond horrific.  For a man whose life is his children the thought of what those families are going through is impossible to comprehend.  Many of those parents went to Washington DC and pleaded with Congress to pass some sort of gun legislation.  But did you notice that not one (Not One Single Parent!) of the 1.2 million aborted children went to Washington DC to plead for any sort of anti-abortion bill?

I saw where one group is all lathered up because the IRS apparently targeted right-wing groups for scrutiny.  But that same group says nothing about the fact that the IRS did the exact same thing against left-leaning groups during the previous administration.  So maybe the real scandal is in allowing the tax exempt status of organizations (right or left) that are politically motivated while pretending to be socially focused?  Maybe that’s the cancer we need to excise?

A group of rose-breasted grosbeaks and blue grosbeaks came to visit and we watched them munching on suet and bird seed.  And last night the coyotes took to singing an old song I hadn’t heard in ages.  It was the one by Roy Orbison called, Crying over you.

Two Angry Females....

I’m not sure how to explain the photos other than to say that both bodies were lying a few feet from each other and it looked like they had been dead for only a couple of hours.  Even so, they were still quite beautiful.  Strange, how something so stunning can be so dangerous.  And yet, these females are in abundance out here.  Yesterday I found a bunch of them hiding in a row of concrete blocks placed to form a retaining wall near the cabin.  Each had a large egg case alongside and when I was messing with them one of the egg cases popped open and hundreds of little ones started running around.  The moms are fierce protectors of their young.  They’ll rush at you and if you’re not careful they’ll bite.  Ah yes, my friends they can mess up your life.  Woe to the fool who falls for the trap.  Did they kill each other?  Was it jealousy or a territorial dispute?  I guess it’s likely not jealousy since they terminate their mates when no longer needed.

You’ve heard of a cat fight?  Well, this is a fight with fangs and venom.  Some people report extreme pain upon being bitten while others say it didn’t hurt all that much.  Hmm, I think I’ve heard that before.  Nausea, muscle cramping, fever; the symptoms vary but if one is healthy then it’s not life threatening.  Still, who wants to be bit?  We’ve got another reclusive lady around here and I’ll tell you about her later.  Yes, the brushland desert is a mysterious place filled with all sorts of beauty.  But watch out for the temptress in black with the bright red birthmark on her belly.  She’s vicious when angry.  But then aren’t they all?

I spotted these two ladies on the trail walking back to the cabin.

News from America’s Frontline:

The Relationship Between Land Desecration and Entering the United States in Violation of Federal Immigration Law.

First, let’s settle on some terminology: If I tell you that people are entering the United States in violation of federal immigration laws then what terms are you going to use to describe these people?  When I was a kid a word that was in vogue is now considered an absolute pejorative although you still hear some “Old Timers” using it.  I don’t get the impression these Old Timers have any specific ill will against these people who swim the Rio Grande and arrive on US soil soaking wet.  Nonetheless, that old expression is deeply frowned upon and even the more accurate designation, “Illegal Alien” (for there are also people with Legal Alien status) has become “politically incorrect” and in some circles people look on aghast when it is used.  I recall something the late Edward Abbey said in a book entitled, One Life at a Time Please. “The only acceptable euphemism, it now appears, is something called undocumented worker.  Thus the pregnant woman [who enters the US in violation of federal law and] appears, in the final stages of labor, at the doors of the emergency ward of an El Paso or San Diego hospital, demanding care for herself and the child she’s about to deliver, becomes an ‘undocumented worker.’”

A common saying one hears in these parts is that, “People come to this place because the table is already set.”  La mesa está puesta.  The same might also be said of the Europeans who arrived in The New World after denuding the forests of England and Mainland Europe.  They promptly went about deforesting the East Coast and plundering the land as they moved westward.  The results are now a country severely polluted and desecrated.  East of where I live, for example, the oil and gas mafia has so ravaged the land that it looks like a vast cesspool with miles of discarded drilling equipment and black pools of muddy oil.  Roads crisscross the region and according to the people who own that land (although it can be said they are nothing more than wards of the big oil companies) the land will remain defaced for centuries.

The people who come here from all over the world have a dream of living a life that perhaps no longer truly exists.  When the current president of the United States says that people should have access to the American Dream he is either engaging in political fantasy or, like other politicians and many economists, his thinking is intensely myopic.  I heard David Stockman, former congressman from the state of Michigan and Director of the Office of Management and Budget for President Ronald Reagan say recently that US population numbers were decreasing and that we needed many more workers to fill the labor force in years to come.  He was suggesting that immigration will fill that need.  But here are some facts: Population densities probably reached what is called maximum carrying capacity back in the early 1980s.  A world population of around 4.2 billion was a maxed-out limit and unless some unforeseen event occurs dramatically reducing that number it is unlikely the world population now at over 7 billion (or the US population at 325 million) will decrease to a number less prone towards succumbing to acute limiting factors like disappearing water supplies, economic strife, and food depletions etc.  In other words, what we are seeing today is a collision of sorts between economic theories and biological facts.  With a US population approaching 350 million we are essentially living on a time bomb.  At that density any limiting factor (even the most obscure) can quickly become major.  A severe and prolonged drought, a food transportation breakdown or a breakdown in the safety of our food, a sudden epidemic, simultaneous terrorist attacks, extreme political partisanship leading to dysfunctional government etc., will have a devastating effect.  At current population numbers we will see a breakdown not in months but in weeks.  The slide from tenuous stability to chaos will probably be unstoppable as systems begin to crumble one after the other.

Now lest you think this is hyperbole and some sort of doomsday sermon let me assure you that knowledgeable scientists have been making these predictions for a while.  Those forecasts have been lambasted by special interests groups (people who want to keep you ignorant so they can profit at your expense); nonetheless, the science is well researched and the conclusions have been thoroughly peer reviewed.

The current dilemma over water in South Texas serves as an excellent example of how the overall system is beginning to fail.  Panicked politicos and business people are scurrying around looking for new water sources but in the intervening years they were warned that unbridled and poorly planned growth would create problems down the line.  Now some researches are suggesting that water shortages may become the norm in places like South Texas.  With ongoing droughts, exponentially growing populations, increased demands on water not only for human consumption but also for things like gas well drilling and agriculture, and what you are seeing is a system stressed to the limit.  Remember that one gas drilling “fracking” operation consumes between 2.2 and 2.5 MILLION gallons of water.  This water is severely polluted after being used.  Now multiply that number by the thousands and you get an idea how clean water is being ruined daily so that natural gas can be pumped out of the ground.  Is it worth it?  Are you willing to forgo clean water so you can light your gas stove?

But add to that the tidal wave of people who are coming through the region every hour of the day.  Local news reports seem like nothing more than copy read from the local Border Patrol headquarters PR desk.  Stash houses are busted daily—each containing dozens of people crowded into rooms and sleeping on the floors.  Hourly police chases (oftentimes endangering the citizenry) occur as smugglers driving vehicles loaded with people try to escape.  Shootouts are common.  Add to that the increased crime rate as colonias (subdivisions) packed with people who are here in violation of federal immigration laws fight amongst themselves or engage in gang violence or peddle drugs or are involved in car-jackings and other crimes.  As some Texas Lower Rio Grande Valley residents told me recently:

“We can’t go anywhere anymore.”

“Walk into a Walmart and not even the clerks speak English.”

“A man was shot dead at a car wash a block from my house.  The killer took his car and fled into Mexico less than thirty minutes away.”

“A local business man had a family member kidnapped and the kidnappers demanded a million dollars ransom.”

Of course, there will be those who read this and use it as a fire starter to enhance their racist views.  How often are these same people as nefarious in character as the people they enjoy denigrating?  Remember that many of the people flocking to the US from south of the border are doing so because they can no longer survive in a land ripped apart by drug cartel violence.  And who are the big drug users?  Those folks are found in the United States.

So where does this leave us in an overpopulated, polluted and crime-ridden land where people live under constant stress?  Ironically, the news media gives little voice to these problems.  The same goes for many politicians.  John McCain, the senator from Arizona, seems fixated on The Middle East while overlooking the problems in his own backyard from Tucson south.  I could say the same for a number of Texas politicians.

Unfortunately, there are those amongst us who will use all of these problems to promote their own political agendas.  In the process real and genuinely workable solutions will be missed.  The problem is simply too complex to be addressed with a few sound bites or for that matter a blog post.  But mark my word: In the end the biological imperative will win out over the tunnel vision of economists, capitalists and politicos.  It comes down to a matter of population versus resources.  And when that goes awry what you’ll get will be less like rolling the dice and more like insider trading.  It’s not a gamble; it’s a sure bet.

Getting the News....

People used to go for weeks without getting any news.  Maybe a traveler would stop by and say something relating to the world beyond their tiny enclave—a cabin in the wilderness, a ranchito in the desert country, a sod hut amidst the grassy plains.  A worn newspaper tattered along its edges with pages missing might be the only access to information.  These days things are much different.  People have a Facebook page and a Twitter account.  Okay, somebody tell me why anyone should care.  They have “push notifications” on their smart phones; and cable TV and Talk Radio brings them everything from news to not so subtle indoctrination.

Out here we live closer to the former ways than the latter.  Yes, I’ve got Internet access but that works only now and then.  Respites in reporting are not necessarily voluntary.  The system shuts down and so does the blog.  Live removed from the maddening crowd and there will be glitches.  C’est la vie.

This past week has been busy news-wise.  Bombings and explosions and other things.  I ran into someone on the little dirt road leading out here and stopped to say hello and he said, “Did you hear about what happened in Boston?”  Later someone else said, “You know that little town north of Waco where they make the kolaches?  You know that bakery?  Well this huge fertilizer plant blew up there.”  I know the kolaches and that little bakery.  By the way, have you ever eaten haluski-capusta?

Anyway, I’ve lived in places where no one got the news for weeks.  But it didn’t really matter what was going on.  We survived.  We actually fared well.  Life calmed down.  Things were pleasant.  It was quiet and peaceful and upon reflection I realize I didn’t need to know what was going on beyond a mile or two past the front door.  In the most genuine sense, All news is indeed local.  Somebody’s cow just had a calf.  Somebody else has a new Catahoula Cur.  Still no rain although the forecast says we might get a few sprinkles on Wednesday.  I had a six-foot rattlesnake on the steps leading up to my porch the other night.

In other places people are glued to their TV sets watching every move the cops make, listening to dim-witted politicians ramble on like wrestlers on the Saturday night matches.  Pulses quicken; blood-pressures rise; fears are upped.  Let’s keep you revved and sleepless.  Make you so angry you’ll do anything we tell you when the time comes.  Let me see, How can we get you to play the fool?  Make sure you persist on an emotional plane and therefore disregard logic and reason.  Sad occurrences all around all the time but the worse news I heard in the last three weeks was that three different parents in three different places backed their cars over their little children.  That makes me very sad.  That’s my report for today.

Prickly Pear Cactus: Sustenance for Generations of South Texans

The prehistoric people of South Texas lived as family groups and small bands.  Their languages were similar though moderate geographical isolation or distance spawned dialects that overtime evolved into new languages.  People living at the extremes of the region whether at the eastern end along the gulf shore or several hundred kilometers to the west could no longer understand each other after a few centuries.  Regardless, trade in essential goods continued and cultural similarities made coexistence possible.  These were basically nomadic people who relied on staple foods such as the prickly pear and mesquite as well as other plants.  Meat sources included small animals and the occasional deer and javelina.  Bison were rare and found only to the north of the South Texas Sand Sheet.  Deep South Texas was an amalgam of dense riparian woodland and sparser upland brush interspersed with native grasses.  The waterway known as the Rio Grande (in Mexico it is called El Río Bravo) was literally a raging river known for massive floods that stretched north and south for many kilometers.  Within the waterway were thousands of islands on which many natives lived.  Their chief mode of transportation was the dugout canoe made either from the trunk of a Montezuma bald cypress (Taxodium mucronatum) or Sabal palm (Sabal texana).  Those living near salt or freshwater ate fish and mollusks and those food sources were a boon for maintaining viable human populations.  Regardless, diseases like malaria and yellow fever were present and often made life difficult.

In the upland regions the people waged a continuous battle to find food and water.  The Sand Sheet farther to the north was a desert without surface water and with minimal food sources.  Spanish explorers reported that the vast desert was essentially unpopulated and prior to the arrival of the horse it is difficult to imagine that any natives ever chose to cross that expanse.  Migratory excursions would have been around The Sand Sheet to the west or perhaps along the coast.  Archeological digs on the northern part of The Sand Sheet in what is now known as Brooks County show that at the end of the Pleistocene about 11,700 years ago small groups of people lived along streams and rivers that flowed into the Gulf of Mexico.

Regardless of whether people lived in the rich riparian belts along the Rio Grande or in the sparser upland regions the main plant food source was probably the prickly pear cactus.  To the Indians of the region the prickly pear (Opuntia sp.) was a multiple food.  By that I mean that different parts of the plant offered sustenance all year long.  In addition the prickly pear (el nopal) provided for other human needs both medicinal and structural.

The vast majority of people living in South Texas today are of Native American decent.  Political designations aside (Hispanic, Latino) their genetic lines can be traced back over 10,000 years to the earliest settlements in the region.  Amazingly, few people in this vast area understand that they are the progeny of the original inhabitants of the land.  Even so, the culture is rich with telltale signs of the past.  Among those signs are the many uses of nopal that tell a story reaching back into distant millenniums.

The prickly pear is such an important plant that without it the ecology of the region would probably change dramatically.  For humans the prickly pear provides food from the young pads (nopalitos) and the fruit (tunas); and the sap is brewed into an alcoholic drink or used unfermented as a tea to treat various ills like gallstones, colitis and diarrhea.  Some people today use prickly pear to combat diabetes and benign prostatic hypertrophy.  The fruit is made into a sort of cheese known as queso de tuna.  When I was young spending summers at a remote ranch in southeastern Tamaulipas, Mexico I witnessed the native people using nopal as a poultice to treat burns and minor skin abrasions.  The sap or juice from the plant has been used to make candles and I have found the sap a particularly good source as a sealant in woodworking.  In making a survival bow, for example, use the thick nopal juices to cover the ends of the bowstave and thus keep the wood from checking.

We are currently experiencing an exceptional drought in South Texas.  But as far back as I can remember ranchers have used nopal pads to feed livestock when times get bad.  Prickly pear is not particularly high in protein but it will serve over the short haul.  One frequently hears the roar of a propane “prickly pear burner” hundreds of yards away as ranch hands scorch off nopal spines so cows can feed.  But cattle are a recent phenomenon (some would argue not particularly beneficial overall) and before that el nopal provided both protection and food to another animal that even today provides a nourishing fare for people living in remote mountain regions to the south.  Known as the “nopal rat” this large rodent builds its nests in clumps of prickly pear.  The nests often extend all around the plant with strategically placed entrance/escape holes.  The nest entrance/escape holes are usually guarded with the spines from another cactus known as tasajillo, (tas-ah-hee-oh).  Cooked over a spit or roasted in an oven these rodents are a delicacy.

Prickly pear ecology is a complex subject but whether as a prime nesting source for birds or a natural erosion control mechanism or an important source of honey during droughts the prickly pear has offered untold generations food, medicine and even shelter.  In parts of Mexico I’ve seen indigenous people use prickly pear as fences and on several occasions we constructed wickiup shelters using nopal pads as roofing material.  When the shelters crumble the pads fall to the ground and in a year’s time a number of new clumps mark the spot where the shelter once stood.

The Coming World War over Water....

“Water is a big issue! Fresh water––while globally abundant–– is scarce in much of South Asia, northern China, the Middle East, and parts of Africa, and will become scarcer in the years ahead. At the same time, global demand for water for agricultural and industrial production and household uses is increasing steadily.  Experts at the Global Water Policy Project estimate that by 2025, 40 percent of the world’s population will live in countries that are ‘water stressed.’  These countries—most of which are in Africa and South Asia––will be unable to provide enough water for agricultural, industrial, and household needs."

Intelligence Challenges Through 2015

United States Central Intelligence Agency

Future historians—if indeed any exist—will question the mental state of the people of this era.  Economic and population growth was held sacrosanct even as resources were polluted and depleted.  Entire regions began suffering from drought but at the same time plutocrats pushed for more expansion while the oil and gas mafia injected precious underground water supplies with highly poisonous chemicals thus ensuring even those reserves could not be used.  Even the CIAs report above is not without its underlying political softballs.  Note that the document states that water is “globally abundant” and that shortages will only occur over there…you know in far off places like Africa and South Asia.  But a quick look at places nearby like South Texas tells a different story.  At this very moment politicians, bureaucrats and “developers” are in a state of panic.  Water reserves are critically low and some communities are now saying they will not be able to provide water this coming summer.  This is not an oddity.  Other places in the United States are also seeing looming water crises.  In South Texas most of the water comes from the Rio Grande that marks the border between the US and Mexico.  But the Rio Grande’s water shed occurs mainly in Mexico and thus the United States is dependent on its southern neighbor to release water into the river.  This is according to an international treaty stating that over periods of time Mexico must discharge water from its reserves into the Rio Grande so that the people of South Texas can have water for their cities and industries.  Of course we should keep in mind that the United States has either violated or ignored many treaties that did not serve its best interests and Mexico has been the victim of this tactic in decades past.  As one letter writer recently told me, “What goes around comes around.”  But you see Mexico is also experiencing an acute water crisis.  In fact, Mexico’s water reserves are even lower now than in the United States.  And according to the water sharing treaty Mexico still has two years before it must comply with its part of the deal.  In other words, even though the politicians, bureaucrats and “developers” are panicked there isn’t much they can do other than whine and perhaps threaten.  Mexico is completely within its rights to hold onto its water reserves for two more years.  But, of course, this type of situation has been predicted for a long time.  A perspicacious few have been telling folks in South Texas for decades that they should be less reckless and instead initiate serious water conservation measures.  The mindset however has always been to install water conservation ordinances when things are critical but to quickly abandon those ordinances the minute the water situation rebounds.  But here are some frightening facts.  The two large reservoirs that hold water along the Rio Grande in South Texas can go from high to extremely low in less than a year given current demand.  Nonetheless, the business community and their politicians can be likened to the sinner who begs for mercy when in a tight spot but quickly goes back to his evil ways when things improve.

Here are some more facts: American intelligence community reports predict that wars are going to be waged over water shortages.  It will no longer be a matter of who has the great oil reserves but instead who has water.  Consider this: If you were a kid growing up in the United States in the 1960s the population was about 165 million people.  Today the US population is over 300 million and some are saying its closer to 350 million.  By the way, for all of you young “bushcrafters” out there who are going to the woods to make feather sticks, baton pieces of wood and otherwise partake of the wilds I’ve got some very bad news.  There ain’t any wild left…at least not in the contiguous 48 states!  In fact, what you perceive of as wild is in reality just a sort of playground where you can go and pretend.  Fifty years ago there were less than half the people on this land than there are now.  Your perceived wilderness experience is what those living a half-century ago called a picnic at the city park.  Add to that resources are depleting at light speed!  While some are frenzied over buying another knife or axe or piece of high-tech camping gear maybe it would be better if they made do with less and thus stopped participating in the rape of nature.  Just a thought but what I see in so many forums and “bushcraft/camping” blogs is nothing more than buy, buy, buy and more buy.  If people living 100 years ago could suddenly come to life I guarantee you they would take one look around and immediately conclude that everything has already fallen apart.  But here’s one more thing to imagine: Did you ever see the guy who runs out in front of the lemmings as they scramble headlong towards the cliff?  Well, just in case you’ve never seen that then let me tell you what happens.  The poor fool is waving his hands and yelling as loud as he can and the lemmings just keep coming and coming and then they make a mad dash around him and just then the man whips around to see the lemmings as they run (each and every last one of them) off the cliff and into the great abyss below.

The Great Desert Boot....

 Once humans realized adding cushion and protection to the soles of their feet saved them the punctures and tears that often lead to illness and death they were quick to adopt shoes of varying styles.  Indeed, shoes were probably amongst the earliest innovations implemented by humans as they evolved.  And while there are parts of the world where people do not wear shoes this is more an outcome of poverty or the inability to obtain them than choice.  Present them with shoes and they will wear them with glee.  Albeit, the shoe industry has become a model of capitalism, and styles often have nothing to do with anything related to safety or comfort.  Witness the high-heeled, pointy-toed horrors worn by some people, i.e., the drugstore cowboy, the fashion-conscience lady, the trend-slave etc.

One of the earliest places to adopt shoes was in the deserts and brushlands.  Take a man’s shoes away and you have crippled him.  I posted an article about South Texas thorns recently and a quick read of that piece will tell the whole story.  A two or three inch puncture wound via mesquite thorn or lotebush, junco, brasil, devil’s cactus or horse crippler requires prompt attention sometimes in the form of a tetanus shot or some other sort of first aid.

But is there a perfect desert or brushland boot?  Well, there are some slight differences between classic brushland and classic desert.  Both places are dry and hot and covered with cacti and low-growing, thorny hardwoods.  Of the two I suppose that brushland is the more nefarious when it comes to potential puncture wounds and other sorts of feet injuries.  Ideally, I suppose a good brushland boot will have a bit stiffer sole to prevent long thorns from piercing into the skin.  Deserts have thorns too but not in the varieties and most certainly not in the densities of the brushlands.  Nonetheless, I have worn desert boots (sometimes called chukka boots) for nearly 50 years.

I started wearing the crepe soled, all-leather boots back in the 1960s when they were popular.  But I was never that concerned about what was “in” or “out.”  I saw the advantage of having a shoe that was lightweight, quiet and comfortable and left nary a track.  For a young fellow who was already a committed woods roamer by the age of 14 desert boots were the ideal footwear.  I owned chukkas made by Hush Puppies and Clark’s and in later years by companies that appeared then disappeared.  Not long ago I bought two pair at Target with the brand name, Merona.  The best desert boots have genuine crepe soles that make for nearly silent walking.  The leather can be suede or full-grain.  I’ve used both but have found the full-grain lasts a bit longer.

Desert boots require very little breaking in but some people may want to add a better arch support insert and I always switch out the flimsy boot laces for something more substantial.  My youngest son is a desert boot fan and he uses leather laces on his shoes.

Desert boots were worn by British forces in places like North Africa during World War II and I think they had the right idea.  The desert boot is cool (this is where the suede leather seems to have an advantage) and because of its light weight it is less tiring than heavier “military” type boots seen today.  Not long ago I ran into a couple of Border Patrol who were searching for long-distance-travelers and they seemed a bit lost themselves.  They were both wearing heavy black combat boots which I guess are all the rage these days in law-enforcement circles but I could tell they were cumbersome and hot and those two boys looked worn out.  They eyed me and I eyed them and I figured they were harmless and I guess they figured the same about me and so we talked for a minute and drank some water and one of them looked at my boots and said, “Now those look comfortable.”  “Very,” I replied.  But now and then I’ll spot their distinct boot tracks so I figure though they admired my boots they weren’t willing to actually give them a try.  I guess their heavy, black jobs are more in line with a uniform look although it can’t be said that a British soldier wasn’t a dashing figure decked out in his khakis, bucket hat, swagger stick and desert boots.  But don’t try wearing desert boots in rocky terrain or where there is ice on the ground.  The crepe soles, though nearly perfect for the eolian sands of the desert or brushlands, offer no traction on rocks or ice.  You will slip.  Just ask the old Woods Roamer.

Perhaps if there were no thorns I might opt for some sort of sandal I made myself.  That would be in keeping with the philosophy of self-sufficiency.  One could perhaps make a moccasin comparable to a desert boot and maybe I’ll try that somewhere down the line.  Back in the 1960s desert boots sold for under $30.00 and sometimes closer to twenty-bucks.  Nowadays they are much too expensive for what you’re actually getting.  Some desert boots sell in the $120.00 range and if you know anything about cost accounting you’ll also know that the profit range is substantial.  In addition most desert boots are made in places like China and, in fact, the last two pairs of Clark’s “original” desert boots I purchased were made in Vietnam.  That should make every Brit out there sad, or so I would think.  The quality is still quite good but outsourcing everything makes one a great “job creator” not for here but for over there.  Six one way and half-a-dozen another, I guess.