(preface)
In the best possible re-enactment of Dilbert, I needed to have a pre-adventure before venturing on a real adventure. I wanted to get comfortable hiking boots. As my occupational hazard would have it, I wanted to make data-driven decisions and get a clear picture of what I was buying.
This is a story of how it went.
Prologue
- You cannot be serious!
- Yes I can, I just choose not to… Some of the time
I am in the back of a military surplus store, trying Rothco Forced Entry boots on. No, I am not going into service, I am too old for that. I am just a guy who’s trying to figure out hiking boots for myself. What makes them comfortable? What makes them comfortable at the store but not in the middle of a 10-mile hike for a middle-aged guy like me? Why can’t I be like a normal human (which is another question I ask myself every day) and buy something that normal humans wear?
I’ve done enough hiking, but nothing too extreme. I like going when the weather is nice, not too cold, not too hot. I also have AllTrails Pro account and I regularly use it. I mostly hike around New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, but I am looking to expand. However, if I have learned one thing, it’s that with age, you have to be more careful about all the stress to your body. So, I am trying to figure out hiking boots for myself to minimize that stress. Being way over 21 sucks.
An older gentleman, one of the three people manning the store, comes by to check on me and asks me how I was doing. I tell him that I am trying on some of the boots they have in stock. I tell him that I have never served in any type of military, and that I am just a hiker looking for good boots I could trust to hike in. I am also telling him that someone told me that “military is kind of like extreme hiking”, so if the boots work for extreme abuse by military folks, it’s more than enough for my needs.
He goes on to tell me about how he was enlisting in the US Air Force back in the day. One day, after he got in, he was standing in line to receive his uniform. This is way back, when all branches were issuing uniforms to personnel, instead of allowing people to buy their own stuff. He gets to supply sergeant and almost instantly gets his pants, jacket, boots, and the rest of the uniform. “But I didn’t even tell you my sizes!” — he says. To which the supply sergeant replied — “I’ve been doing this for 20 years. You’re good. Don’t hold the line, keep moving!”
Turns out, the sergeant did know his stuff and the uniform fit.
The older gentleman leaves me alone to try the next pair of boots on the rack. He’s going back to the front of the store. I am sitting on a bench, with one boot on my right foot, another one in my hands.
I pause. How ironic, I think, someone dressing other people can size an unknown person up the moment they see them. Yet you, living with yourself for 20–30–40–50 years, or even more, still struggle to find the right sized footwear.
Ironic, indeed.
Part 1: The Call
Insufficient facts always invite danger.
As a person who proudly wears a black and yellow T-shirt with large, easy-to-read letters spelling “CAUTION: I have no idea what I’m doing” rather regularly, I must tell you that picking hiking footwear is just a tad harder than getting a team of 15 people in 5 different time zones to agree on anything, figuring out how an industry works in a week, or planning a three-day road trip with a moody teenager.
The problem with hiking is not finding the right trail to hike, waiting for the right weather, or even choosing the right music to hike to. It’s finding the right footwear, so the hikes don’t feel like a visit to John Wayne Gacy’s home. As an avid amateur hiker with no idea what he’s doing, I would know. I hiked in New Balance sneakers, slip-ons from Skechers, and the famous Merrell Moabs. I suffered climbing 800 ft elevation in Clark boots and fell into a waterfall while wearing ASICS. I was there with the person who went into Colombia jungle in sandals. So far, I can confidently say that you can hike in anything. It all depends on your level of comfort.
Wearing the right boots is less about “what’s right”; it’s more about “what looks cool for Instagram.” Of course, in the unlikely case that you actually do go on a hike, wearing “the right” footwear can save you a ton of time and money on visiting doctors. But it’s only if you actually go on a hike, which is, you know, optional.
I end up actually going on a hike, where I tend to take pictures as I walk, climb, run, suffer, and sweat. For miles. So, if anything, I’d love to be comfortable. Also, I would love to know if I could trust my shoes not to slip, twist, and run away from the next rock I am stuck on when I need them the most.
So, I figured, since I am already going places, I might as well pick the right shoes for Instagram. Oh, and to avoid going to those pesky foot fetishists who call themselves podiatrists and orthopedists.
And that’s where the fun started.
Surprisingly, I’ found out that already owned a bunch of brand new tacticool boots, hiking supershoes, and other fancy foot-focused accoutrements. The problem is that I bought them right before the pandemic and never had a chance to wear them. And now all those shoes are either too big, too small, or just don’t fit! Damn virus, what have you done to my shoes!
What’s a guy to do? Of course, go read the reviews. They should tell me which boots are the best, right? I mean, those people review dozens of boots every day. They even get paid to do it by the companies that send in their shoes for review. So, they must know all the right answers.
In a few days of research, I’ve read so many reviews that my head felt full of sneakers, high boots, trail runners, approach shoes, rucking boots, 607-compliant boots, Berry-compliant boots, minimalist boots, and anything else you can think of. My brain took a break. I was ready to go to a store with a full understanding that I only needed properly sized Merrell Moabs, Oboz, or Keens, and I would be set for life. Luckily, I went on another hike in my 3-year-old Merrell Moab 2 hiking shoes that I already broken in. My knees hurt, my feet hurt, my very soul hurt, and it was one of those miserable exercises where people come back from, put their hiking shoes in the box and hide the box away. But they told me Moabs are the best!
What do?
Part 2: Two Steps Back, One Step Forward
Ah, screw it.
But I am not Kirk, Spock, Luke, Buck,
Flash or Arthur frelling Dent.
I’m Dorothy Gale from Kansas.
My first instinct was to just buy another pair of ASICS and to hell with all this hiking shoes bullshit. I can do just fine; ASICS are relatively cheap and will last me the whole season, doubling as everyday shoes. I loved ASICS ever since I got my first severe flare-up of plantar fasciitis, and I haven’t looked back ever since. They’re good sneakers, and they can be bought for cheap on Amazon. But if you wear them daily — they usually won’t last more than a year.
Then I remembered how much fun it was slipping and falling into the waterfall in my favorite pair of ASICS and my enthusiasm took a back seat. Then, I thought of hiking in the February puddles and mud where waterproof Moab sneakers, while painful, really saved my feet from getting wet. Also, all the ankle, knee, and hip pain I suffered because hiking in everyday sneakers isn’t that genius of an idea. Another consideration is that hiking in spring gets you in front of lots of ticks and those guys usually fool around at 3 to 5 inches from the ground, which is where the sneakers end. Scary.
So, I went back to research. One thing that instantly stood out to me was that ALL the reviewers are incredibly sporty, super fit, have been doing this for years, know how to run the trek, jog in the mountains, climb Kilimanjaro, and cook a bear with bare hands. The average review sounded like, “I took these shoes on my morning 15-mile run from home in the mountains. I wanted to warm up for my midday 65-mile run. Because last time when I didn’t warm up, my afternoon 20-mile trail run session was a little bit challenging.”
Who the fuck are these people, and when do they work?
I am not this guy. I am not a runner. I walk at my own pace, make stops to take pictures and venture away from the trail a lot. I absolutely will climb onto extremely uncomfortable rocks to get a good view and a good photo. Even if it means an iffy return path — or no return path at all. I also carry a hiking backpack and some extra weight distributed around my body in the form of subcutaneous fat. I need control of my feet, I need to be sure my footwear won’t have a mind of its own, and I want it to support a guy who is far from a top physical shape. So, basically, I have nothing in common with these people — and they’re trying to tell me which shoes to buy. Thanks, reviewers! You guys are no help at all!
So, I started with what I knew, which was almost nothing. My base premises were as follows:
- Merrell Moabs cause pain and fatigue in certain places of my legs and feet. I felt comfortable climbing rocks in Harriman in regular sneakers but had issues walking on a flat Watchung trail in Moab 2. I can walk for miles on flat surfaces in almost any footwear, but some surfaces are more challenging than others when hiking.
- Low price segment mid and tall boots cause pain from the pressure on the front of my ankle bones. Most of them are no-go for me.
- The most important “fitting” characteristic of the boot is how secure is your heel in the boot. Rest usually could be fixed with proper lacing. But if the heel is not secure — there will be blisters, no exceptions.
- Shoes that have “large toe box” don’t hold the front foot tight. This is by design — as one walks and hikes, the foot tends to expand a bit, especially in the front ball and toe area. A large toe box allows for more expansion thus making feet less constricted.
So, I dusted off old rusty Google and went on a sneaker fishing expedition. What causes pain on flat walk but doesn’t on a rough terrain? What should I do if hiking shoes cause me pain in the knees? What makes hiking shoes good?
This was my question now — what are the best hiking footwear for me personally?
I was drowning in answers. Buy better shoes. You can’t overspend on shoes or boots. Buy Salomons, no, buy Hoka, no, I only ever buy Altras, no, go with Merrells, no, Oboz is the best, no, my friend’s cousin swears by Danners…
I stopped the research right there — too much noise and not enough sense. I said to myself — whenever I have a minute, I’ll go to any outdoor store that sells above-the-average sneakers. I’ll try every single shoe model they have. And then I stumbled on a Reddit post where someone was saying something about high heel drop causing knee pain. It was like someone just threw me face-first into large soft titties. It was comfortable and warm, and it made perfect sense.
The heel drop is a vertical distance between the level of the heel and the level of the toe. It’s measured in millimeters and has the most profound effect on how you walk in your shoes. High heel drop in the shoe shifts the stress to the knees and hips. Hello, knee pain. A low heel drop puts additional pressure on the foot, ankle, and calf but reduces the pressure on the knees. Aloha, plantar fasciitis.
Then it dawned on me. I quickly checked the data on Moabs. Different sources claimed different numbers, but all agreed that the Moabs have above average heel drop size. This is what was causing discomfort when I walked long distances on flat surfaces in hiking boots. That’s why it was painful! That’s why I preferred hiking in everyday sneakers — because the pressure is on the areas of my legs that already trained for the pressure due to sneakers commonly having low heel drop.
It turns out that almost every single model of every single brand has its own heel drop value. Most manufacturers only publish heel drop values for running shoes. Still, sometimes you can either find someone who knows, someone who has had it measured, or — after trying shoes with a variety of drops — you may just feel it.
The task now was to find shoes that have low heel drop, fit well, and are comfortable to hike in.
So, I made a list in Notion.
Part 3: Enter the mentor
Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive
need for a logical universe that makes sense.
But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.
My first trip was to REI Co-op on Long Island. Of course, first, I went to REI in Manhattan, located in the famous Puck building. It turned out we both were all out of Puck — the store was closed for renovation. So, I drove to Long Island.
An absolute delight of a human being, a salesperson named Sean was not just extremely helpful. Somehow, a few customers aggregated around him as he projected some unspoken positive and friendly vibes. In about an hour, we all became friends; we shared stories and discussed the fit of various brands and models. All this while trying all sorts of footwear, which Sean, with some magical prowess, produced in unimaginable quantities for each of us.
It was phenomenal.
One of the areas where Sean’s advice was extremely helpful was the explanation of why things are the way they are. Obviously, all people are different, and their feet are different. Duh! However, there are certain distinct types of the shapes of human feet. You could even say that people could be divided into groups by the form and shape of their feet. Not that we need to discover more ways to be divided, but still. Different brands target not only various demographics but also tend to build shoes that are more compatible with specific foot shapes. In my case, Oboz builds their shoes with a specific foot shape in mind. When I tried their hiking shoes, my heel was way too loose around the back of the shoe while the front of the shoe was squeezing my toes like they were little bottles of Heinz Ketchup. However, when I tried Merrell boots of the same size, they fit snugly and felt fantastic. Well, until you walk the trail in them, obviously.
Another interesting insight that he shared (among many more) was that there are expensive brands, and there are brands that are expensive. While “you get what you pay for” is generally true, some brands offer you more bang for the same buck. You can spend your hard-earned dollars on a cool brand, or you can spend them on a brand that will keep your feet cool in Florida heat. The same $100 can purchase a pretty shoe from a famous brand that will fall apart in months or buy one that will last a couple of years. They would each be well suited for hiking, running, or anything else. They would just have different mileage on them.
I decided to ignore the price component completely and just try everything I had heel drop data for. First — just to feel the footwear, and second — to learn what various heel drops feel like for me personally. Then I tried everything I did not have the data for to “guestimate” what the drop is based on what it feels like. One cool thing about REI is that they have artificial rock installed in the shoe section, so you can try the shoes on “rocky” terrain.
I went on a-rockin’.
My Notion list got more data and was now flush with colors. I marked all the shoe models I’ve tried and wrote — very expertly, I might add — how I felt about them. Which size of which brand fits the best. How comfortable was each part of my foot — the ball, the heel, the arch? Did I experience any pressure or pain in any of the places? Every little bit I felt went on record. After a few hours, I emerged from the store armed with way more data than I had coming in, a much better understanding of what a good shoe feels like, and a pair of Hoka Challengers.
They cost about the same as I’ve spent on my ASICS in the past three years, and they also felt like it. This was something new. I found sneakers that weren’t just good for everyday use but that I could occasionally hike in — I found something I could trust to hike in.
This feeling… it was different.
Part 4: Into The Unknown
Dying she could handle.
Dying without any answers seemed terribly cruel.
Armed with the knowledge of heel drop’s influence on my body, legs, and feet, I pressed on. Knowing what to look for now, I found the first review website (called RunRepeat) that was truly useful. These mad lads cut the shoes sent in for reviews in half! They measure all sorts of stuff of a shoe, including the actual heel drop. It turns out that manufacturers often mislead or make mistakes in their heel drop listings. In other cases, this website was the only reliable source of information on the heel drop values that the manufacturer refused to provide.
My list grew.
Suddenly, I discovered a world of “minimalistic” shoes. Oh, don’t listen to your common sense! The “minimalistic” in this case means zero heel-to-toe drop. Another term being used for these types of shoes is “barefoot” running. Imagine that — here are real people out there, without adult supervision, who adhere to the principle that nature already designed the best running platform in the form of the human foot. Therefore, no additions to it are unnecessary. These people prefer zero-drop shoes for running, walking, and other human-like activities.
Some popular brands cater to these people by offering a couple of zero-drop models. Some brands even specialize in zero-drop shoes (like Altra and Xero). Of course, I tried these brands too. Their shoes weren’t uncomfortable, but they felt… weird. According to the internet wisdom, one should not transition directly from a 12 mm drop to a zero drop. One should approach the process carefully and spend some time in purgatory of 7 to 5 mm drop shoes. So it was written in the scrolls of internet wisdom, thus it must be true.
While visiting other stores that were in some ways aligned towards sports and outdoor activities, I used every chance to try new shoes and enrich my data. It became a fun activity — looking at brands and models at a specific store to analyze the target segment of the market the store is trying to address. If you see Skechers, New Balance, and Adidas, you probably won’t find good hiking shoes there.
That’s how I tried boots.
Specifically, I decided to try 5.11 Speed 3.0 boots — just for funsies. I am, of course, familiar with the brand itself. 5.11 caters to tacticool people. This results in a love-hate relationship with the internet crowd. Some people absolutely love 5.11 clothing for their durability in real-world applications, cool military-like appearance, and all the free stuff that 5.11 showers them with for their positive reviews. Others think the brand is overrated, and the durability isn’t at the same level as “real” military stuff — whatever that means. Obviously, in my use case, I don’t need to wear boots anywhere near 24/7 for months and years. As an occasional weekend hiker, I will not be rucking for weeks in the Alaskan snow or sands of Afghanistan, so I figured my needs are also not “true military style”.
So, I tried 5.11 boots, because why not?
While putting these boots on I imagined that they would be much like my old Soviet Union winter boots my father brought home for me. They were rigid, minimal flex in the outsole, with flat faux fur insole that felt good first five minutes and miserable, slippery, and cold the rest of five months of winter. They also were usually a size too large, which resulted in blisters and worn-out socks.
I, of course, was wrong. After figuring out the right size of the boots, I felt like a large part of my life had been missing, and I had just found it, ate it, and it felt good, warm and fuzzy. The sole of the large, scary looking tacticool military boot was very easy to bend, allowing very comfortable walking and even running. Despite being an 8-inch tall boot, the upper part didn’t get in the way, didn’t chafe the skin, or cause any pain. Of course, a quick search on their website showed that the 5.11 Speed model has 15 mm of heel drop. A little too much for me and way above average too. Still, I have recorded my experience and decided to look at other boots. The boots felt nice, though. I wanted more of it, just less of pain in the future because of it.
Then, I connected the dots.
Do you know who loves boots? The military. You know what I know about military boots? I know nothing about military boots. So, I started looking for people who are looking to buy comfortable boots for military applications. Why? Simple — if a boot can withstand the abuse of a professional soldier for any extended period, it can certainly support me in my occasional weekend hikes while being priced the same as “cool” brands. I have discovered new names and new brands, and new information flowed into my list.
On Reddit, people were sharing their experience with specific brands and models of boots they were wearing while in service. Not how cool the shoes looked in Instagram reels, but how long each brand lasted and under what conditions. Canada, Alaska, Afghanistan, Florida, summer, winter, fall — the data was there. I just had to pick it up. If a pair lasted dude at least a year, it translates to hundreds of miles of marches. Some brands and models kept coming up again and again.
Quickly, I learned that until recently, folks in the military were limited in their boot choices by regulations. However, at some point in 2000s, service members were allowed the purchase of any boots that are 607–1 compliant — which is a long list of things a boot for military must adhere to. For all military branches the number of choices increased exponentially — the needs of infantryman in a desert are different from a member of Navy on a ship, that are different again from Special Forces operator in the mountains. Many brands decided to focus on producing “combat boots” because… well, because it was worth it.
Those folks with minimalistic shoe preferences turned out to be of some help after all. While there are almost no boots with zero drop, there are boots with drops smaller than the standard 10 mm, which people who subscribe to “barefoot” ideology were buying.
Given that people tend to stick to their choices if these choices are good, brands started getting their street cred. If someone buys the same brand and model many years after retirement because it’s the best shoe on the planet — the very least I can do is try it.
I’ve ordered 20 different pairs of boots on Amazon.
I tried them all.
Part 5: The Order Deal Ordeal
I have a bad feeling about this.
I sent them all back.
The worst part of ordering boots online is that you don’t know what size to order — so you order the closest you think would fit based on the information you find online. I got my Hoka Challengers in size 10, and my old Merrel Moab 2 in size 10.5.
“This brand runs small,” La Sportiva Bushido in size 11 is still too small for me.
“They’re usually wider than others.” Under Armor Valsetz, size 10 felt good, but their Stellar boots in 10.5 feel 2 sizes too large.
“The toe box was larger than my usual boots.” Vasque size 10 is the right length, but I need wide-width shoes to prevent the eventual spaghettification of my feet. Once 10 W arrived, it turned out their heel drop was different from the heel drop in size 10.
5.11 Speed boots in the same size 10 differ in fit by about half the size between leather and suede variants.
What. The. Fuck.
At this point, being more invested in research instead of in actually getting a pair of hiking boots, I ordered more. Now, the deal with ordering footwear online is that you can only return unused items in the original packaging. No taking shoes on a few hikes and then sending them back. But I’ve got stairs in my house! So, I had to improvise and hike at home.
I started picking my favorites.
Under Armor boots were the softest and were the first mid-size boots that didn’t cause pain to my ankles. They were also some of the best-looking boots from anything I had ordered, if maybe a bit too aggressive.
Garmonts consistently felt like they were awesome boots. After three tries, I finally got them in the right size and just needed to figure out why my right foot’s bridge hurt. My favorite pick was the T8 NFS, the softest model. The T8 Bifida was recommended more often in multiple Reddit threads. However, they are designed to be tougher for more “in the field” abuse and they felt too rigid for me. Their heel drop felt to be around 10–12 mm. However, a tough 8" upper compensates for it by forcing a better posture. Overall, I’ve spent more than 4 hours house hiking — walking, running, climbing stairs, and sitting — in Garmonts and they just felt right.
That is — until I tried Tactical Research Mini-Mils. These shoes won my heart with their softness and 5 mm drop. I got them in a larger size first, but even then, I didn’t want to take them off. I was instantly in love.
Wearing Danners felt like driving a Rolls Royce after being stuck in Nissan for ages. It’s hard to explain to someone who has never driven a Rolls Royce, so just trust me on this one. You can, however, experience Danners — REI always has them in stock.
Vasque felt like what Merrells should have been without a high heel-to-toe drop. They also didn’t look like a prostitute on meth that got a facelift at a local McNiptuck. They have a 6 mm heel drop, which is ideal for me. I spent about an hour in them walking, running, and climbing stairs, and I am sold now. Surprisingly, it was another one of two midsize boots (it is 5" high) that didn’t hurt my ankles.
I felt like I had too many choices. Like a kid walking into PetSmart’s adoption section, I wanted to keep them all.
There was only one problem.
Part 6: The Princess Is In Another Castle
Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!
These shoes are expensive.
I mean — not Air Jordans Holy Grails expensive, although you don’t really wear AJ1s for hiking. If you’re wearing Holy Grails, it’s because you’re going to a VIP club in an orange Lambo, and the word “expensive” isn’t really a part of your vocabulary. But the brands I was trying on are often mentioned in “Buy It For Life” conversations, where the phrase “buy once, cry once” is uttered more than once. Usually with an emphasis on the second part.
For a person who’s been buying $50 sneakers once a year or so, the concept of investing $200–300, or maybe even more, into a pair of hiking boots I wasn’t planning on wearing every day sounds like something from a famous “Last Boy Scout” pants scene. On the other hand, there’s something gratifying in owning something useful, cool looking, and potentially lasting more than a couple of years. I mean if you compare this to the cost of a mocha pumpkin spice non-fat latte — it’s peanuts. But mocha pumpkin spice non-fat latte or ordering a parfait on Uber Eats is essential to creativity of a young mind.
Boots like these are a luxury item.
As I was churning through the boots, I was wearing each one for at least a few hours. Unless it was an instant “no” due to size or fit issues, I wanted to spend at least a couple of hours before even thinking of comparing this to others. At the same time, I continued to search for reputable sources of heel drop data and other information that could help me look at the shoes from different perspectives.
A point of view I didn’t consider came from some of the YouTube channels hosted by former military folks. Since they’re literally living in the boots for days, understanding how they approach boot selection helped me change some of my own views.
For example, I realized I should probably stop searching for “do it all” boot.
If I plan to hike “light” or even run the trail — with barely any load, the trail sneakers, like my Hokas, would do the job. The minimalistic boots or shoes (with zero or low heel drop) would also come in handy since they’re extremely light and agile.
On the other hand, if I had any aspirations of true “rucking”, or even carrying any significant weight (aside from my own) — hiking with the load (usually with the rucksack, thus the term), I would need thick soles and more rigid boots, maybe even with larger heel drops than I thought I could handle. On uneven terrain, especially covered with rocks, which is a regular occurrence even on well-traveled trails in Harriman State Park in New York, feet can get damaged easily. I can absolutely attest to the fact that sneaker soles will make the bottoms of your feet hurt within the first 20 minutes on a rocky trail. The chances of rolling the ankle while carrying the load also increase drastically. In this scenario, trail running shoes and minimalist boots will do nothing to protect feet from rocks or tree branches on the trail while increasing the pressure on the heel and making walking even more exhausting and potentially dangerous.
The number of choices started to drop.
As I continued reading, watching, and house hiking, a new variable entered the chat: the insole. Turns out, if you take insoles out of Rockies S2V — one of the highest-drop boots I’ve tried and one of the most recommended across the board — they become zero-drop boots, so you can use any other insole to create your very own custom heel-drop size.
Suddenly, everything I knew was wrong.
Part 7: I Need To Get Out Of This Place
Would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?
I got myself a variety of insoles from various brands from Walmart and Amazon. I wanted to test different shapes, sizes, and types of support for my arch and heel that these new insole options would provide.
Obviously, only some of the boots were worth retrying. But I figured I needed to get some back to test them with different insoles. I tried Mini-Mils with thicker soles, but no matter what I did, they just wouldn’t fit right. So those were out, at least for now. Under Armor boots were doing just fine with their own insoles. Garmonts felt even better than before. Danners fit well but were still chafing my heel with any soles I put there, so I bagged them away. The funny thing was, the best Danners fit was with the insoles from Garmonts. While Garmonts fit the best with a third-party insole. Additionally, I accidentally stumbled on a Propper Series 100, a regular mil-spec desert boot. It was cheaper, fit way better, and came with extra insoles for better fit. To add insult to the injury, almost every video I watched about the boots was saying something along the lines of “Yeah, stock insoles are like… just there… get your own insoles to make boots really fit”.
Everything has changed with the insoles. Insoles changed everything.
I felt like trying more different brands would confuse me even more now. I felt drowning in the very data that helped me swim before. I felt like I didn’t have enough data on insoles to account for this new variable. I felt like I had collected more than enough data for myself. Should I stop? Or should I try every shoe, sneaker, and boot again, now with insoles?
I needed to lead this dumpster fire of a research project to water. Or to a fire station. Either way should work.
First, I decided to get rid of any boots that were even remotely inconvenient, didn’t fit exceptionally well, or would make me want to take them off after any period of time. After all, I was trying to get shoes for me, right?
Second, I need to decide if I am looking for boots, shoes, or whatever else I want to find. What was the problem I was trying to solve, really? Finding myself a pair of boots for hiking or rucking, or collecting data on boots currently on the market?
Third, I don’t want to hoard several pairs — I simply won’t use them as much, and it would be a waste of good money. Since I am documenting everything, I can get a pair or two and order something else when these are done. So, ideally, I should be able to make that choice at any time using the data I have collected.
So, I built a final list of boots I wanted to try and got ready to complete this adventure.
And then I got sidetracked.
Part 8: I Was Blind But Now I See
Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every time.
Suddenly, I realized that I needed new tires for my car.
I mean, I knew I needed new tires for a while. I just didn’t realize how badly I needed them. One day, I noticed one of the tires had lost pressure. This had happened with other cars I used before, so I just pumped air into it and called it a day. Well, whaddya know, the same tire lost pressure again the next day. And again, the the next day. I checked the manual, and lo and behold, I was 20,000 miles over the manufacturer’s warranty. On top of that, some of my tires’ sidewalls looked pretty beat up. I guess there are human years, there are dog years, and there are car tire years. 7 car tire years sure looked like 85 human years to me.
I had no idea which tires I needed because the last time I shopped for tires was so long ago that I don’t even have any emails about that. I remember ordering them online, but these could be Mandela effect memories.
It looked like I had a new research project on my hands, so I started looking around for sources. I came to TireRack, and after answering several simple questions, I had a list of tires suitable for my car and the type of areas I tend to drive in. Sorting by consumer ratings, price, availability, weather rating, and mileage warranty, I was able to zero in on three options in about three minutes.
That was fast. Pizza-pizza fast.
To cross-check the results, I went to several online forums for car owners and got pretty much the same three options as top recommended. Additionally — and much to my surprise — there were almost no arguments about which tires are the best. No holy wars a la “Windows vs Mac” as you would have in almost any other online discussion on pretty much any other topic. Folks would just say — here’s what I’ve been using for my car. You want a recommendation for yours? Call TireRack, they know their shit. Not a single reasonable argument against those types of suggestions.
Oh, isn’t that interesting?
You know what? I want the same for boots and hiking shoes — an authoritative place, when it comes to data, that I can answer a few pointed questions and get my personalized recommendation.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the review websites I relied on when making my choices. The RunRepeat, the TrailToPeak, and the Rose Anvil, all good places to get to know shoes and boots better. I used them heavily to educate myself on the shoes and what I need for myself, and I used the data they provided to build my orders and Try-Before-You-Buys. But RunRepeat is only focused on runners, and I am not the one. TrailToPeak has nothing but trail shoes. Rose Anvil is an accessories company, and they do video reviews for boots but videos don’t really lend themselves to multi-facet sorting. There are about a dozen subreddits that may or may not contain expanded information on some of the boot brands and models. There is no single place of reference where I can figure out what I need for my needs.
I want the Tire Rack for boots.
To be the change I want for the world, at least to start somewhere, I needed to convert my Notion list into something more useful, like an Excel spreadsheet. My list contained data about 200 items by then — models of boots, hiking shoes, and sneakers of various sizes, heel drop data, and my impressions about that. And there was no way in hell I would copy-paste all that individually into Excel.
But we’ve got tools for that.
Part 9: Hippity Hoppity These Boots Are My Property
I’m not a robot. I’m a freak of the universe …
a thinking animal …
and I’m trying to see my way clear through this morass.
I ended up with five boots for the final selection. Each fit relatively well, and with the right insoles, it could have been the one. But to really get the right fit, the boots need to be broken in. And that requires using and abusing the boot somewhat. One of the fastest ways to break in boots like these is to soak them in water and walk a few miles while the boots are wet. The boot’s leather will mold to the shape of your foot faster and better. However, this makes boots ineligible for a full refund. To proceed, I needed additional information on break-in periods. My brain was already full of boot data. I needed another one.
I decided to use Generative AI.
As a person who proudly wears a black and yellow T-shirt with large, easy-to-read letters spelling “CAUTION: I have no idea what I’m doing” rather regularly, I have no problem admitting that I don’t know how to code. Therefore, I used “minimalistic” or “barefoot” approach. I wrote two very simple Python scripts. There was no Jupyter notebooks, and no fancy IDEs. Just text editor, command-line Python, and a weekend.
I went Nightmare! mode.
The first script goes through Reddit threads that were supplied to it, and extracts comments into text files. I had to make these text files small because ChatGPT can only produce 4096 tokens of output each run. What this means in English is that model will cut the output short if I run out of token allocation.
The second script reads each file, injects the contents into an AI prompt, and, using an API, talks to the AI of my choosing, asking it to create an Excel table with the brand, model, and how the commenter liked or disliked said brand and model of the boot. Then the script would add the generated data into one Excel file.
I was then able to sort, filter, and read. Because Excel is a many splendored thing!
For two dozen threads and more than a thousand comments that would have taken me about a week to read, I ended up getting the resulting Excel in just two days, including writing the scripts. Filtering, sorting, and reading took another minute, because it’s Excel.
Did you know, that there is Microsoft Excel World Championship? It’s held in Vegas, at Luxor Hotel and Casino, right under Carrot Top. You can watch it on ESPN, too!
It turns out that one of my favorites, the “space boots,” Reebok Rapid Response Stealth Boots, take around 3 to 4 weeks to break in. I don’t think I am ready for a commitment with pain for that long, and I don’t think my feet are ready as well. Another exciting discovery was that Valsetz boots, while well-fitting and cool-looking, don’t really last long even under moderate use. Proppers aren’t really that good overall boots — almost everything else I chose would be better quality-wise.
All I needed to do to find what the right information was to filter data in Excel. If I felt that my preselected threads are not enough, I could pour over Reddit again, load up hundreds more, and get even more data. I mean, I could write another script that finds these threads based on search keywords, subreddit names, and number of comments a thread has.
I could discover more brands or collect even more data for existing ones. The whole experiment would have cost me only a few dollars more in API usage fees — cheaper even than shipping six shoe boxes back to Amazon. Obviously, it wouldn’t replace my experience or tell me which boots fit me the best.
It would tell me which boots would make the most sense to fit.
Although I didn’t really get my TireRack for boots, I did get a scoring ability for user sentiment. I could go further and analyze the sentiment on boots’ endurance, whether they run small, wide, or short compared to other boots, and collect any other information across any number of users of the particular brand and model of a boot.
Yes, I know: data science has been doing it for ages.
But I am not a data scientist. I don’t have dual PhD, and special data ethics training to be able to do this on a scale. I am also not a Python pro, although with the way things are, I might just ask Generative AI for more help in this area. I am also not a full-time runner, or a supercool dude with a mocha pumpkin spice non-fat latte in his hand reviewing shoes for a living. I just want to pick up a pair of comfortable hiking boots.
For me. Personally. For I am that guy.
Epilogue
“Do you think it’s ready?” I asked.
“It’s perfect… a masterpiece.”
“Do you think it’ll sell?” I asked.
“No fucking way.”
I have just sent the last 6 shoe boxes back to Amazon. I am sitting in my car (with new tires!), wearing Belleville C320s that I am breaking in this week. Each shoe had about 5 minutes of water poured on from a water faucet. Yet I barely feel any moisture. I also don’t feel like I want to take these boots off.
My other chosen pair, the Garmont T8 NFS, awaits its turn next week. Both pairs have their insoles replaced, although I really liked Belleville’s custom-shaped ones. It’s just that other insoles do a better job of placing my feet exactly where they need to be in the boot.
I am also wearing Darn Tough Merino Wool socks that cost $25 a pair and have a lifetime warranty. Yep, if you wear them off — send them back to Darn Tough, and they will replace your socks free of charge.
I had no idea either one of these things existed just a month ago. I know, these are not exactly “there are aliens among us” type revelations, but these feel more useful. At least, for me.
I have also discovered a number of new boots lacing techniques, techniques of breaking boots in, found a new way of looking at shoes, boots, and other footwear, acquired new experiences and some new general knowledge about hiking in general.
In addition to having a vast amount of data on boots that I will never buy, I now have a couple of Python scripts, a few examples of how to parse Reddit threads and comments, and whole new experience of doing the search for the best boots for me in a whole new way.
I wonder if any of this can be scaled? Monetized? Made useful to others?
Maybe I just need another project?
