The Seven League Boots

Seven League Boots are mythological footwear presented to a pilgrim by a magical being. When worn, the boots touch the ground only once every seven leagues, enabling the pilgrim to cover vast distances on a quest.  I am told seven leagues (21 miles) is the distance the King's messengers rode between stops for fresh mounts, food and rest.  Since they were on horseback, their boots were said to touch the ground only once in seven leagues.

Recently, I found a pair of “Wellingtons” in my closet. I have not worn or seen them in years. They are plain, brown leather boots. They are not tall or fancy or anything beyond well made. They may be thirty years old. Frankly, they looked like Hell. The leather was heavily scuffed and polish was nonexistent. I hauled them to the elderly man in my neighborhood who cares for leather goods. [Except saddles] He does excellent work and I left the boots with him.

When I returned a few days later, the old man presented the boots and began to apologize. He pointed to various places that did not gleam as glass. As he pointed out the various defects, he explained there was nothing he could do to repair them short of re-dyeing the entire pair.

My mind wandered with each landmark. The worst gouges were the result of the time I turned-over a Harley in an unexpected curve. An ambulance came to see me as I lay in a watery ditch beside the road. When I looked up, I asked, “Are you an angel?” Lucky, it was an EMT from the local fire department – and he was straight. Whew.

Another scar reminded me of the time, when felling a tree, a large trunk rolled across my foot and tried to climb my leg. My right foot was purple up to the knee for four weeks. The boot survived.
There were many scars and blemishes on those boots. Some were identifiable. Others just looked like miscellaneous gunshots, animal bites and excrement stains – hardly worth note.

In the end, I thanked the old man and left a generous gratuity. Those boots and I earned every one of those defects through taking chances and pursuing adventures, the sweetest part of life. I will not be re-dying them. I shall keep them just as they are and hope to record one or two more adventures before they bury me – with my boots on. After all, we old boots have a magical bond.