Ode to my Sperrys

My last few days here have been full of goodbyes, both expected and unexpected. Under the unexpected was definitely my beloved bright pink Sperry Topsiders.

As you can see from the picture, they have definitely been well used. They are caked with clay from a thousand visits to the ceramic studio,

and mud from my latest adventu

re in La Jolla (more on that later). These are the shoes I have worn across Europe, to every physical therapy session, and during many a la

zy day. Sure, many have made fun of me for them, and really, I don't blame them. They are (or were, since they are extremely faded now)

BRIGHT PINK. You don't often see people with bright pink boat shoes, and I have gotten a lot of grief for them. But that doesn't mean I love them any less. In fact, I love them more, because, I mean, who else has has bright pink boat shoes?

I

tried to find more phot

os of me wearing my shoes in interesting places, since I wore them to Prague and all over France. The only picture I could find was me in front of a medieval catapult in Provence. I think that says it all.

The last adventures of my shoes took place on a secluded beach in La Jolla Cove. My friend Jessica and I were walking on this path to some tide pools one day, and we see these guys in wetsuits climbing down this steep hill next to this path. Turns out there was a little rocky beach below that locals used. Many people use it as a launch pad for snorkeling and swimming, since there are tons of fish and sharks in the water.

Yesterday we decided it was time to explore the beach. We arrive at the top of the hill, me in my Sperrys and my friend in her flip-flops (later removed for easier climbing). The first part was pretty easy-it was steep, but there was generally enough footholds that we didn't have to worry. We got to a ledge, and from that point on it's a muddy hill. The only way to get down is two muddy ropes, put there probably years before by some enterprising young surfer.

Getting down is hard. After a while, I gave up on using the rope gracefully, and I slid down on my ass. I made it down using a combination of sliding, climbing down the rope, and, to be quite honest, sheer luck.

The bottom was absolutely gorgeous. The beach was covered with huge rocks, and as we walked farther down the beach, I saw a small trickle of water that formed a mini waterfall in the cliffs. It was beautiful, although it did cause everything to become slimy and muddy.

The view of the ocean was equally beautiful. We could see the kayakers off the cove, and La Jolla Shores off in the distance. It was extremely peaceful, and, except for two guys going snorkeling, we were the only ones there.

Then came the climbing up part.

I am not the most athletic person, but luckily 3 sessions a week of physical therapy on my calf gave me enough strength to climb, or else I would never have been able to do the climb. The first part was the hardest. It was muddy from people walking up there after swimming, and I had to hold onto the (equally muddy) rope just to make sure I didn't fall. It began to dry up about halfway up the rope, so I made it up to the ledge without too much trouble. However, the rest of the way back I had to essentially climb. I gave up on walking upright, and I used whatever I could to latch on.

It was hard. I have always been afraid of heights and extreme things, so I was terrified out of my mind. However, I just kept climbing up, and just kept going. Finally, I made it to the top, and I was greeted with the most beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean, made all the more beautiful by the fact that I had just completed one of the scariest experiences of my life.

I can literally say I have never been as dirty as I was when I completed that climb. My jeans were completely covered in dirt and mud, and my hands were so dust-coated they no longer looked the same skin tone. The look was completed by my Sperrys, which were so completely coated with mud that I couldn't even bring them into the house

Later, when we asked Jessica's brother if he had been there, he informed us that that hill goes by the name "Devil's Slide". Apparently people go down there, and sometimes have trouble coming back up since it is so steep. Very appropriately named.

So those were the last days of my Sperrys. They ended their life well-loved, well-used, and covered in mud. Rest in Peace, old friends.

I now have a new pair of Sperrys. They are grey suede, with leopard spots on the sides. Hopefully this will be the start of a beautiful new relationship, filled with adventure and new places.

Photos will (hopefully) be up soon.