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My first thought was, “Well, phooey. There’s a waste of $200.” I gazed forlornly at my new Salomons: crampon capable clodstoppers, still putting forth the odor of vulcanization, bought only hours before my discovery of lightweight backpacking. I could sense their vestigial hobnails. They would go the distance, I had thought; I would be tramping through some pretty rough country, to be sure. I was going to hike a thousand miles, I had argued to myself, all of it unknown.
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