Flip Flops at 8,000 Feet: An Introduction
Most people think I’m crazy.
When you live at 8,000 feet in the high desert — where the air is thin, the sun is brutal, and the ground alternates between red rock, sage, and patches of late-season snow — people expect you to be geared up at all times. Merino wool base layers. Trail runners with 4mm lugs. Gaiters, probably.
I wear flip flops.
Why
It started as laziness, honestly. You’re heading out the door, the dog needs a walk, the truck needs gas. Who has time to tie shoes? But somewhere along the way it became something else — a little act of defiance against the idea that the outdoors requires a gear list.
High desert air is dry. Your feet air out. The sun warms the straps. The ground is rough but your grip adapts. You slow down a little, pay attention to where you step. Turns out that’s not a bad way to move through a landscape.
The Rules (Such As They Are)
I’m not delusional. There are limits. Here are mine:
- Snow depth matters. An inch? Fine. Six inches? I have boundaries.
- Cactus density is a real variable. Wide-open desert: flip flops. Cholla field: reconsider.
- Altitude is not the constraint. I’ve been above 11,000 feet in these things. The lungs are the problem, not the footwear.
- Social settings are fair game. Weddings, yes. Job interviews, context-dependent. Funerals, I read the room.
What This Blog Is
This is a record of those adventures. Where I went, what I saw, how the ground felt underfoot. Occasionally some thoughts about gear, weather, and the particular beauty of a climate that tries to kill you a little bit every season and somehow makes you love it more.
Pull up a chair. Or don’t — the desert floor works fine.