When I am out and about barefoot in colder weather it naturally attracts comment. Folks want to stop and talk. “Aren’t your feet cold?” After a while, I pull on one of my stock phrases:
I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid.
I was out barefoot hiking again this past Friday. Aside from the usual chance to stretch my legs, I had another purpose: My explorations around Vulture Point and Vulture Cave convinced me that my map of the area just wasn’t quite right.
So I headed back there determined to pay close attention to the terrain and apply it to my map-making.
In a comment to yesterday’s entry, Beach Bum asks
What I am most curious about is what did these libraries do 40 years ago? Is anyone that worked there back then still there? I doubt it, but it would be interesting to find a retired librarian who worked in any library and ask what was done then. Did they spend all day kicking out barefoot people during the warm months of the year? Or did they conveniently make those rules after going barefoot went out of style?
I’ll try to answer that.
Well, here’s an interesting juxtaposition.
You are probably aware of my lawsuit against a library for banning bare feet. I think I’ve also mentioned that my daughter is a librarian (she tolerates me ).
Well, she’s at a library conference in Toledo right now, and sent me a picture.
I wore footwear two days ago for about the most in a long time. You may recall that I did oral argument in my barefoot lawsuit, Neinast v. Fairfield County District Library, in the morning. As I said there, I wore shoes, since I wanted to argue that case, not some different theoretical case about whether I could argue my case barefoot. That was 2½ hours of shoefulness. (I did drive there and back barefoot, as usual).
But that wasn’t all.
You may have noticed that yesterday’s blog entry was MIA. I was rather busy yesterday and the evening before preparing for oral argument in my appeal of the lawsuit I have against the Fairfield County District Library.
The lawsuit is an attempt to have their barefoot rule removed. The effort has been a long and winding road.
OK, I know it’s not mid-winter. But I was doing some Google searching and came upon a story from this past year’s hike.
The Hocking Hills Mid-Winter Hike is held every year in Hocking Hills State Park right around January 21. Folks hike from Old Man’s Cave to Cedar Falls to Ash Cave, and then buses take them back to where they parked.
I’ve done it three times, barefoot of course.
Just a little Sunday morning amusement, featuring Ken Bob Saxton:
Like nearly all southern boys of his age, President Jimmy Carter went barefoot as a boy. He wrote about it in his book, An Hour Before Daylight, Memories of a Rural Boyhood.
This is what he wrote:
Here’s a cute little song from 1947. It’s from the album “Hank Fort Sings Her Own Great Song”. Hank Fort was from Nashville and gained a fair bit of fame by writing radio jingles and then other fairly well-known songs. She was born Alma Louise Middleton Hankins Fort in 1914 and died in 1973.
Somehow I wonder if the song may have been a bit autobiographical.
Two years ago I participated in the Walk with the Ancients. This was a pilgrimage that walked around 70 miles from the Native American earthworks at Chillicothe to the Octagon earthworks in Newark. Here’s the story that the Columbus Dispatch did about it at the time.
Obviously, I walked the distance barefoot.
Yesterday was another of the organized long hikes at Clear Creek Metro Park. You may recall that the Executive Director of the Metro Parks is Training for Mt. Everest. There were about 20 people on the hike. I was the only barefoot one.
The hike was about twelve and a half miles, with elevations changes of around 300 feet. It was also right at the start of the leaves changing color and, due to the constant 25 mile-an-hour wind, a lot of leaves on the ground.
Those leaves have both pluses and minuses.