Sunday, August 18, 2013

My Limmer Lightweight Boots

These are the Limmer Lightweight Boots I bought a few years ago. As you can see, they've got a few miles behind them now. Anyway, I'd never heard of the Limmer boots before. The name came up in a web search. They looked like some good boots though, so I picked up the phone and called. I got Karl Limmer on the line. He was professional and polite. I asked him every question I could think of about his boots. As an avid hiker, the boots I wear are very important to me. Karl took the time to answer all of my questions and gave me all the information I needed to make my decision. The next day I sent him the measurements of my feet and placed an order.

After I received the boots I spoke with Karl again. He instructed me on how to break them in.  Slow and steady he said.  Well, I tried it Karl's way for a day or two. Then I decided that I wasn't going to pussyfoot around the house in them for two weeks before taking them on gradual hikes. No, I went all in. I put about 24 miles on them the first week. I went high and low on rocky mountain terrain.  Then more of the same the next week. Then I took a trip up the Organ Mountains crossing lots of streams and snow along the way to the peak. For the record, I never blistered and suffered minimal discomfort. My Limmer Lightweight Boots are good to go now. They fit great and offer outstanding support. And I love the rugged look.

As for the price, I paid $280.00 for them. I have no complaints about that either. You get what you pay for.  If you want cheap - go Chinese. But if you want a quality hiking boot that will hold up under the most adverse conditions - call Karl Limmer. The Limmer stock boots are made in Germany.

Thank you for visiting my website.


The Penalty of Leadership

In every field of human endeavor, he that is first must perpetually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. When a man’s work becomes a standard for the whole world, it also becomes a target for the shafts of the envious few. If his work be mediocre, he will be left severely alone – if he achieve a masterpiece, it will set a million tongues a -wagging. Jealousy does not protrude its forked tongue at the artist who produces a commonplace painting. Whatsoever you write, or paint, or play, or sing, or build, no one will strive to surpass or to slander you unless your work be stamped with the seal of genius. Long, long after a great work or a good work has been done, those who are disappointed or envious, continue to cry out that it cannot be done. Spiteful little voices in the domain of art were raised against our own Whistler as a mountebank, long after the big world had acclaimed him its greatest artistic genius. Multitudes flocked to Bayreuth to worship at the musical shrine of Wagner, while the little group of those whom he had dethroned and displaced argued angrily that he was no musician at all. The little world continued to protest that Fulton could never build a steamboat, while the big world flocked to the river banks to see his boat steam by. The leader is assailed because he is a leader, and the effort to equal him is merely added proof of that leadership. Failing to equal or to excel, the follower seeks to depreciate and to destroy – but only confirms once more the superiority of that which he strives to supplant. There is nothing new in this. It is as old as the world and as old as human passions – envy, fear, greed, ambition, and the desire to surpass. And it all avails nothing. If the leader truly leads, he remains – the leader. Master-poet, master-painter, master-workman, each in his turn is assailed, and each holds his laurels through the ages. That which is good or great makes itself known, no matter how loud the clamor of denial. That which deserves to live — lives.
written by Theodore F. MacManus

A deadly viper once bit a hole snipe's hide; But 'twas the viper, not the snipe, that died.

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El Paso, Texas
Native Texan · Navy Veteran · Various Scars and Tattoos · No Talent But yet a Character

One From the Archives

Post #2151

Anything that costs you your peace is too expensive. —Unknown



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