There’s fierce rivalry between the TBs (tramping boots) and the SBs (ski boots) in my life. The cousins have always competed for my affections and the honour of being chosen for the outdoor pursuit of the day.
So when the TBs heard that the SBs needed radical surgery, they began gloating in a most uncharitable fashion. They love nothing better than to assert their superiority over the SBs and on this occasion they were trumpeting the fact they had never, even when brand new, caused the most minor of blisters.
Through no fault of their own, the poor SBs needed to undergo a painful stretching procedure to accommodate the ugly bone spurs my feet had sprouted since I purchased them a few years ago. The once supremely comfortable boots had become instruments of torture in the intervening years to the point where I was nearly in tears at the end of a long ski run.
I happened to mention my agony to Paul, the Scot at Outside Sports in Wanaka as I surveyed the dazzling array of expensive SBs for sale, bemoaning the need to buy a new pair to accommodate my bulging bunions.
‘No need to buy new boots, lassie,’ says Paul after I explained the situation to him. ‘Bring your boots to me and I’ll have a good look at them.’
I was to deliver said torture instruments to him that evening and he would apply some judicious torture of his own in appropriate places. I shuddered as he showed me the tools of his trade and the hot iron rods he was intending to inflict on my unsuspecting SBs… but the prospect of saving a fortune overcame my qualms. When I showed him the offending boots later that day, he said ‘Och aye, I can fix them no trouble at all.’
I left the SBs in Paul’s not exactly tender care overnight. I had visions of them being shackled to a medieval torture rack in a dark, dank dungeon. But a couple of gluweins by the open fire at the nearby Cardrona pub seemed to soothe my conscience.
Early next morning, I returned to the shop and nervously tried on the SBs. My feet tentatively tested the interior of the boot and uttered a sigh of relief at the space and wriggle room they discovered they now had. Ahh. Bliss. I nearly hugged the dear Scotsman.
The procedure had been highly successful and the SBs once again fitted like a glove… albeit with a couple of bulges. Paul had heated the rigid plastic shell and given it a good stretch in precisely the right places. The SBs were very stoic about the operation and said it was worth the pain if it meant they would be able to continue in service… such good sports!
The Scotsman warned me against cooking my boots by the fire at night – would I do such a thing? – because plastic has a memory and it will return to its original form if it gets overheated. While I was in the shop, smiley Jack the ski rental lad, suggested I try a different pair of Dynastars as the ones I had been skiing on had skittery tips. Ski shop lads are the same the world over. Knowledgeable, entertaining, gregarious, cheeky – real characters.
My feet positively purred that day at Treble Cone in the fresh powder, a late season gift from the Great White Snow Goose. And my tips behaved well too.
And that night, basking by the fire, the TBs displayed a modicum of Christian compassion and charity towards their cousins… who wisely stayed away from the direct heat. It was heart-warming to see.
The TBs could afford to be magnanimous. They knew it was their turn next day and they would be heading into Mt Aspiring National Park by Dart River Jetboat, then disappearing into the wilderness on an off-track Ultimate Nature Experience.
© Ngai Tahu Tourism
They had seen many wondrous sights in their 10-year service and became quite garrulous as they bragged to the SBs about their exploits.
A few years earlier, the TBs had ventured onto the Franz Josef Glacier with ice crampons attached to their soles to explore the massive ice field with its blue-green crevasses and afterwards, they had sat beside me while I soaked my tired limbs in the Glacier Hot Pools.
They had also watched sheep being shorn at Rotorua’s Agrodome and met a nocturnal kiwi at nearby Rainbow Springs.
© Ngai Tahu Tourism
Early last year they had hiked the Hollyford Track for a second time to celebrate an auspicious birthday and wedding anniversary, and also experienced snowshoeing which they found somewhat undignified.
Looking ahead, they were confident they would also be chosen as the footwear of the day when I finally got up the courage to do the world famous Shotover Jetboat trip which thrilled Prince William and Kate when they visited Queenstown in 2014, and the Huka Falls Jetboat ride near Taupo that takes passengers right to the foot of a thunderous waterfall.
© Ngai Tahu Tourism
“There are many and varied thrills in store for me,” said the TBs. “You SBs however, are limited to skiing alone. You must get frightfully bored.”
Factbox
* Outside Sports has shops in Queenstown, Wanaka and Te Anau. We picked up all our gear from Queenstown Paul who expertly outfitted four of us in no time, and dropped it back to Wanaka Paul a week later. So convenient.
*Justine Tyerman was a guest of Ngai Tahu Tourism which has a stellar line-up of tourist attractions in New Zealand: Shotover Jet, Earth & Sky, Glacier Southern Lakes Helicopters, Queenstown Snowmobiles, Dart River Adventures, Hollyford Track, Guided Walks New Zealand, Franz Josef Glacier Guides, Glacier Hot Pools, Huka Falls Jet, Rainbow Springs and Agrodome.
* The writer flew Air Newzealand from Auckland to Queenstown return and stayed at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Queenstown.
