Streams of water poured down from the eaves. I could cope with that. I don’t let rain keep me indoors. But my ankle was another matter. It stubbornly refused to support my weight, and this put an end to my plans for the day. There was no way I could carry my canoe down to The River. What to do? That was indeed the question. Then my eyes fell on the box where I stash clothing in need of sewing. It was filled to overflowing with cotton and cotton‑nylon “Battle Dress Uniform” (BDU) pants, many of them already boasting patches on thighs or knees. I like BDUs. They’re roomy where I want my pants to be roomy, available in a wide range of dirt‑concealing colors, and generously provided with pockets. They’ve served me well over the years, and they wear well, too. Some of my older pairs are in their second decade, still going strong despite bearing the scars of hundreds of miles of field surveys. But BDUs have one weakness. I’m not just a paddler. I’m also a cyclist, and I crank out several thousand miles each year, both on and off the highway. Anyone who rides as much as I do develops pretty good‑sized adductors — they’re the lumps of muscle on the insides of the thighs — and these brush together when I walk. The result? My BDU pants need frequent patching. It’s a fussy and tedious job, and since there aren’t too many chores I like less than running a sewing machine, I sometimes find myself without a single serviceable pair of BDUs to my name.

Which happened to be the case on this rainy morning, in fact. My last intact pair of BDUs had worn through only a couple of days before I twisted my ankle. So it looked like I couldn’t avoid serving a short custodial sentence at the sewing table, even if the only labor involved was easy. In putting paid to my paddling plans for the day, my ankle had pretty much guaranteed that. Or had it? I was looking for any excuse to avoid a stint of make‑and‑mend, and I found one. It couldn’t have been simpler. I just didn’t need to patch my BDUs right away. As luck would have it, they’d already been relegated to second place in my affections. And what had supplanted them, you ask? Campmor’s aptly named Trekmor 2/1 Convertible Pants, that’s what. These have now become my number‑one choice for knocking about… Read more…

 

 
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