A perfect testing ground
by Terry Wieland
On July 16 of this year, a small but vigorous tornado pogo-sticked its way across my section of the Ozarks. My phone buzzed, sitting on the table, to broadcast a tornado warning. I was still looking at the screen, trying to figure out what to do, when a solid grey wall swept past the kitchen window.
When it was gone, a minute later, a big and beautiful old ash tree in the pasture was uprooted and lying on its side, a tall pine beside the drive was snapped off like a toothpick, and three oak trees had crashed beside the stable. Rain was coming in sheets, the power was off, and ditches over-flowed. And, my phone was still squawking at me.
At that moment, by coincidence, sitting by the door was a pair of Arxus boots I had just received with orders to try them out. Since my long-favorite pair of Les Chameaux were in the car, roughly a torrent and a half away, I pulled the Arxus boots on over my rain suit and sloshed out to assess the damage.
Normally, Missouri in July is not ideal for testing rubber boots, with temperatures pushing a hundred and the only moisture our excessive humidity but, thanks to the tornado, today was different. Trees were down everywhere, roads were flooded and blocked; my pasture was, in places, almost knee-deep in water, and it was still coming down.
It was, in other words, a perfect situation for testing both the waterproof and walking qualities of boots that aspire to compete with the near-legendary Le Chameau. We take our silver linings where we can find them. So off I set to prowl my seven acres of woods and meadows and see what was what.
For those not familiar, Le Chameau is a rubber boot made in France. They are constructed of natural rubber and chamois leather, zip up the side so they fit as snugly as walking shoes, and have never been cheap. Our late lamented editor-in-chief, David Foster, bought some back in the 1990s, and told of walking into a saloon late in the day for a shot of Maker’s Mark. Some of the denizens approached him and asked if he was wearing “them four-hundred dollar boots.” I’ve had one pair since 1998, and a second since 2012, and neither show any sign of wearing out.
The great thing about them, aside from longevity and — dare I say it? — stylishness, is that you can wear them all day, regardless of weather, as if they were regular leather hunting boots.
In fact, that’s what I now did with the Arxus boots. They are the Primo Nord Zip model and, having put them on, I wore them all afternoon as I walked, sloshed, waded, drove this road and that to see what was open, helped pull downed trees off a highway, and stood in a flowing stream with water halfway to my knees on what is usually someone’s driveway.
Arxus boots are made in Sweden and have many of the same features as the Chameau. Instead of leather, the Primo Nord is lined with neoprene, and the zipper — a Riri from Switzerland, no less — is at the back instead of the side. They are insulated and rated warm, with proper socks of course, down to zero Fahrenheit. Best you log onto their website — www.arxususa.com — to get all the technical details. They list at $395.
For the record, the situation with the Le Chameau company is hazy. They have all but disappeared from the American market in recent years. That’s why, when I was in England in 2012, I bought a second pair in order to have a back-up. I’m told the factory in France has closed, and now the company has only one, in Morocco. Whatever the situation, I’m glad I have mine, and no, they’re not for sale.
All is not lost, however, because Jack Butler is importing the Arxus line from Sweden and, for my money, should make even diehards like me not mourn the loss of Chameau too much. Arxus has various models from ankle-height to the knees, for cold weather or warm, with proper lugged soles for maximum traction in the worst conditions.
As I write this, it is September and Hurricane Francine is gnawing at the coast of Louisiana. Rain is pelting Memphis and they are expecting up to ten inches in the Missouri Bootheel. Outside it’s glowering and spitting rain. My Chameaux are still in the car, but the Arxus Primo Nords are standing by the kitchen door. You never know.
Wieland had been idly hoping for a little bad weather to try out the Arxus when the tornado struck. Be careful what you wish for.
