While I was growing up I had many pairs of sneakers, boots and good old “get outdoors” footwear, along with some that I was not supposed to wear tramping around in the woods.
My favorites were a pair of black canvas Pro Keds—the perfect footwear for an eight year old boy to get dirty, wet and stinky.
They hosed off easily and didn’t show too much of where I had been on a particular day’s journey.
But during an annual spring break down south my eyes were opened to an entirely different type of footwear.
My family and I had visited a great old historical fort along the way—one of my favorite side trips which I’m sure were taken just to please me.
In this historic place people dressed in grand old clothing to represent the style worn 250 years ago.
I was thrilled to see the period clothing but most of all I was fascinated by the shoes.
Those black shoes with a buckle across the top where shoe laces belonged were really awesome.
I spent some time with my pen and sketch pad, making some notes about them as a tour guide spoke.
He explained the history of why this fort was built and described the many nationalities of the people who stayed there or tried to take possession of it.
It was a great lesson in history, but my mind stayed focused on those shoes.
I noticed that the men, women and even the children wore the same style of black shoes with the large leather tongue and short heels.
I wondered how I would do wearing such a pair as I explored my Limekiln Lake woods.
I studied their other articles of clothing too and made sketches of the jackets with huge cuffs and short pants with so many buttons.
I sat against a huge cannon and pulled the brim of my worn baseball cap in close to ward off the glare of the sun. I kept my ears open as our guide delivered the details of the fort’s history, jotting down notations in the margins of the sketches.
Some 30 years ago I bought my first pair of reproduction shoes to wear to my first living history event.
Black and short-heeled with the traditional brass buckle, they felt comfortable, like being in the presence of an old friend.
This first pair only lasted two years. I wore out the heel and split the toe leather after hiking the many historic haunts of Revolutionary war battlefields.
Today, I feel better in my historic shoes than I ever did as a child in my Keds. Yet there are some similarities.
Like my sneakers, these shoes can also be hosed off when they get dirty and stinky.
They also do not show evidence of where the day’s journey has led me.
Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Inlet. ltmitch3rdny@aol.com