UKH

Indulge me here, please, with my wee story.
I was mortified as a stroppy teenager, when my Dad, Robin Cloquet (alpinist / 1950’s), walked around in deepest Surrey & our village of Banstead in a pair of his worn Klettershue with red laces.
I, on the other hand, thought it was the bees knees to walk the Surrey hills in the deep winter of 1979 in a pair of Galiber Super Guides which I had saved up for before heading to my first Winter course at JSMTC Tywyn as part of my pre-selection for RM Commandos.
I remember their painful time on my feet as we completed our 3x day pass-out exped. in the depths of a Welsh winter on and around Cader Idris and over Cribn Fawr to meet our extraction RV.
Then, a few years into outdoor education (and there’s another story that takes me from RMC to Drake’s Island Adventure Centre) and Karrimor brought out the KSB….
‘Yes’, I know you’re already thinking of my dad’s opinion had he been alive: he was right.
The Klettershue, on which the KSB was modelled, was the goto footwear. My three pairs were worn religiously over the next six years!
Roll on heaven’s knows how many years, through the pain of Koflach’s and into the 2020’s and what do we have? Yup, me proudly wearing La Sportiva ‘s version of the Klettershue, its Gore-tex Boulder Mid.
How my Dad must be having a wry smile at me…and how much I’d love to hug him one more time as I tell him of my alpine adventures and let him chide me for my arrogance at his choice.
PS: The most touching moment of my mountaineering was to climb the Rimfischhorn just as Robin did in 1954 and even more tearful was to see his signature in the hut book at The Flu Hut above Zermatt. In the image, note too the arrow pointing at the nationality of the climber…only 8 years after VJ Day in 1946. Mountaineering sure does bring people together.
Here's a link to the Google album which shows the boots and the hut book - Andy's Album - https://photos.app.goo.gl/xqRrnaCtMbnw9s8w5

Nice reminiscences; thanks. You have some great memories of your father. All that stuff matters.

Re your final comment: I've only just in the past couple of days read Frank Smythe's book 'Mountaineering Holiday.' Apart from the understated details of his trip all over Mont Blanc at the end of his holiday, what stands out through the book is the fellowship of the hills - even at the time that World War II was about to start. As you say: mountaineering brings people together.

Edit: as a PS, I have never found (and still don't find) Koflachs uncomfortable. They were a revelation in their time, and I have walked (and climbed) miles and miles in those things with no problem. Maybe I'm just lucky?

I never had a problem with Koflachs once my mate advised me to put duct tape over the internal rivet that held the hinge.

There again walking up Mt Keen in a blizzard, I met some poor Scotswoman who practically had tears in her eyes when she asked whether I didn't find them desperately uncomfortable.  When I said not at all, she vowed to persevere; I hope I said the right thing, because there was no way she was going to break them in!

mountaineering brings people together....

Isn't there a story from an international expedition to the SW face of Everest when the team were listening to a broadcast of a football match, where the Germans were winning against England.  A German mountaineer quipped at some British climbers 'Ha, I see we are beating you at your national game'.  Don Whillans replied with 'Aye, well, we've beaten you at yours twice'.

Joking apart though, what a nice story.  I can imagine your delight at finding your Dad's signature in the hut book.