Yes Sir, Officer!

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Today began like any regular work day. As I was getting dressed, I knew that I would be riding my Harley to the Metro to get to work, then when I got back to the Metro, I will be riding across the county to get some things for an elderly friend who doesn’t drive and drop them off on my way home from work.

Considering that I would be on my bike for a while after work, thus wanting to wear motorcycle boots (instead of cowboy boots which I usually wear to the office), I selected my H-D Police Enforcer Boots. While dressing, I tucked my dress pants into them. I can just pull ’em out when I get on the train. The boots look like well-polished dress shoes peeking out from under dress pants, and they are really comfortable!

I made my man his lunch, as well as my own, kissed him goodbye as he left, and soon thereafter, I mounted my trusty iron steed and rode off.

I wasn’t a mile down the road when I noticed a bike cop following me. He was just riding behind me. No signals, no lights, no motion to move. I wasn’t exceeding the posted speed limit. I thought he was just returning to his district station which isn’t far from the Metro station that I use.

When I turned the corner onto the street to get to the Metro parking lot, the cop made the same turn. I thought to myself, “hmmmmm.”

Then when I turned into the Metro parking lot and rode up to the special parking spaces designated for motorcycles… the cop rode up right behind me.

I had nothing to feel guilty about, but you know that feeling… when a cop follows you and then stops behind you, you can’t help but wonder what you did that prompted him to stop.

I killed my bike’s engine and dismounted. I took off my full-face helmet and turned around. The cop had a big grin on his face. The first words out of his mouth were, “it IS you!”

Now, what did he mean by that? Has he seen my alter-ego website? Have I met him somewhere or at a community meeting? Had I raised funds for a cop charity with which he was involved? Was he the cop who provided security at a recent public hearing that I presided over? I’m really bad with faces and names, but never boots. Trouble was, his Dehner Dress Instep Patrol boots were as undistinguishable as all the others on our county’s force… dirty, dusty, and well-worn. And I didn’t remember his name when I read his name plate.

If he had parked his bike so I could see his license plate, I might have known where I may have seen him. I know most of the county cops by their plate numbers. Well, anyway, the big smile radiating from his face and his hand thrust out to shake mine certainly shook off any fears that I had done anything wrong.

All he said was, “you’re the guy that Officer (name) told me about, who knows about boots.” He said that not only my boots tipped him off, but also my vest, which had recognizable patches on it.

Then he launched into a long discourse about his boots, what he doesn’t like about them (how hard they are to maintain, and that they get hot), and what he prefers as far as height and sole. He said that he really likes lug soles, such as were on his Dehners (see? He actually lifted his boot to show me.) He went on to say that he absolutely doesn’t want boots that have to be shined all the time. But he likes to have a good appearance.

He complimented my tall, black and shiny boots, and asked me where I got them. Unfortunately, they’re not available any more (but my deviant mind was saying, “Officer, Sir, I have a second pair that might fit you”). I recomposed myself, returned the handshake, smiled back, and then had a brief discussion about boots with this nice (but very chatty) cop.

Eventually he asked me about my recommendation on boots, and I told him what I had learned during my bike cop boot advising experience with another local force. I recommended he consider Chippewa Hi-Shine Engineer Boots and to have lug soles put on them at my local cobbler, who provides a significant discount to cops.

He thanked me profusely. By then, I had locked my bike up six ways from Sunday and was in the process of covering it. He helped me do that. He then wished me a nice day, and rode off. He left a huge smile on this Bootman’s face! Wow. Nice to be recognized for some expertise by someone who must wear boots for his profession.

Little Things That Mean A Lot

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Some days I really wonder when common courtesy and civility went out the window. But here are a few examples of little things that I have done and others have done for me that mean a lot…

At the naturalization ceremony for my two friends on July 4, we arrived early to find seats. I saw a few people going to a box in the back of the room and pull out small flags. I thought my friends and their families would like to have a flag as well, so I got up and looked in the box. There were hundreds of flags, just piled there. I gave my friends their flags, then stood at the door and handed them out to everyone else who was arriving. Funny, no one thought to do that. But man, it sure made the ceremony more festive!

When the ceremony was over, there were some hecklers standing in the back of the parking lot yelling about “those illegals.” Well heck, these folks worked hard to become U.S. citizens. So I asked one of them why he was there, and he told me that his church pastor told him (some lies) about the event. I explained it to him, and he looked embarrassed. He and his crowd of misinformed miscreants soon left. (My partner warned me “not to get involved,” but some people like this just make my blood boil.)

Then not to mention that I just hate seeing trash strewn about. I picked up their hateful signs and leaflets and put them where they belong: in the garbage.

Speaking of trashing our streets, later that day while riding my Harley to my brother’s, I was stopped at a traffic signal. I saw in my rear-view mirror that a nitwit behind me threw the waste from her fast-food meal out the window of her Lexus. I got off my bike, picked up her garbage, stood in one of my most “Harley-Biker-Growling” poses, and threw the garbage back in her window with an admonishment, “look at the example you are setting for your children!” Her kids were in the back seat, watching. She just stared, mouth agape (Bikers on Harleys can have an intimidating appearance when they’re angry.)

Saturday morning, I sent five birthday cards to some elderly friends whose birthdays are this week. It’s just something I do. Perhaps I get a little carried away (according to my partner), as I’m always mailing cards. I’ve been asked why not just send an e-card? But that’s not the same, especially to older folks who appreciate thoughtful traditions.

In turn, when the mail arrived on Saturday, I found a very nice hand-written card from one of my friends who I had coached for his citizenship test. In carefully written English, he expressed his thanks. The thoughtful words and the card brought tears to my eyes.

At the grocery store where I bring my aunt and some of her friends shopping regularly on Saturdays, someone asked me where she could find some product. I pointed out the location and said, “this week, this brand is on sale.” She beamed.

Leaving the store, escorting three old women across a busy parking lot with a cart full of groceries, someone stopped traffic for us so we could get across safely. Thanks! I need the help! Herding old ladies is worse than herding cats!

As I was returning the cart to the store, I dragged two other carts that had been abandoned in a handicapped parking space back with me. Note to dumb-dumbs: handicapped parking spaces are not cart carrels! If the store is nice enough to let you take the cart out to the lot, then please have the courtesy to return it! Sheesh… that really bugs me. Of course, as I’m going along, I’m picking up trash…. that bugs me too, the trashing of America.

Saturday night, my partner and I were having a little fun in boots & leather while relaxing on our more private outdoor deck. I noted that water from an earlier rainfall was dripping over the gutter instead of going down the downspout… note to self: clean the debris off the gutter-guards. (Remember this for later.)

Sunday, my partner had some photos that he had taken of his Mom but didn’t know how to download them from his camera or send them to be printed. Sure, I can help. Just a little thing, but was appreciated.

I was looking out the window and saw a neighbor walking a dog. She was having to dodge under some branches of some trees around the sidewalk. I got out my trimmers and cut off low branches on trees over the sidewalk. Beats hiring a tree trimming service (for which we haven’t budgeted from the HOA funds!)

I went to get my hair buzzed in advance of going to a major conference later this week. At the shop where my favorite stylist works (and to whom I have been going for 25 years!), I held the door for someone else as she was going in. She smiled and said, “gracias.” I had a pleasant conversation with her in Spanish as we were both waiting for the same stylist. Though my Spanish isn’t all that good, she was very courteous in not correcting me.

Sunday afternoon, I picked up a newspaper on a neighbor’s driveway. The neighbor is out of town, and I didn’t want the paper to be left there advertising, “no one is home.” He has done the same for me. A neighborly thing to do.

About an hour later, I saw a guy on the roof of that neighbor’s house cleaning out his gutters. I spoke with the guy, and he told me that a company he works for has a contract and that he does this work twice a year. I noticed that when he climbed the ladder to the roof, he had dropped the hose. I just picked it up and pushed it toward him, so he wouldn’t have to come back down to get it. He thanked me.

While speaking with him, I asked him if he had time to clean that back gutter of mine that I can’t reach because my ladder is too short. Quick as a flash, he cleaned mine, too… for a very reasonable price. (He was great to watch, too, in his wet shirt with his abs showing through, well-worn work boots… but I digress….:-))

This morning at the Metro, someone was staring dumbfounded at the farecard machine. Instead of laughing at “another lost tourist,” I just explained how to get a farecard. He smiled, said thanks, and was on his way.

While on the Metro, I gave a stern look to the jerk who always leaves his newspapers on the train. I have warned him before to pick up his garbage. Whenever I’m around and he knows I’m watching, he takes his papers with him when he leaves the train and puts them in a recycling bin. I figure he’s just lazy, but laziness drives me bats.

When I arrived at my office, I found a hand-written thank-you note (not an email!) from a colleague who said that she appreciated the information I had given her about navigating the maze of my (home) county’s bureaucracy. She finally got her sidewalk fixed. She had been trying to get it fixed for a year on her own without success, and got it fixed two weeks after speaking with me. (Actually, I referred her to her local elected official district office staff who interceded. That’s among the reasons why we have locally elected representatives — to help us in matters like this. While something small like a sidewalk repair probably won’t get the elected official’s attention, knowing whom on the official’s staff to talk to and who can provide constituent service is the magic knowledge here. Now you know.)

Little things mean a lot. Saying “thank you,” picking up trash, holding doors open, and smiling. If you see something you can do or needs to be done or should have been done… DO IT! The world needs more courtesy and civility, especially when times are so rough.

And there are some men with whom I have formed bonds of friendship through “BOL” who do this too, and have noticed that I try to be a nice guy… I want to give them a special shout-out of thanks for being the courteous, thoughtful, gentlemen that they are: my friends “AZ”, “UTBR”, Clay, David (Bamaboy), Maf, “StephenNC” … you guys know who you are, and you mean a great deal to me because you are such thoughtful and kind men. You make things special in your respective parts of the world. Thanks! (See me smile!)

H. Jackson Brown Jr. said, “Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day.”

Boots on My Feet II

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From time to time, I post some pics of the boots I have been wearing lately.

Sunday, June 29: My Sunday-go-to-meetin’ new Dan Post Sand Vegas Cut Cowboy Boots that I wore to church with my partner.

When I got home, I put on my tall Chippewa Oil-Tanned Engineer Boots and for a short motorcycle ride to a quaint old mill town for a leisurely lunch.

After that, I changed from my biker duds to casual Sunday afternoon clothes, including my Nocona Ostrich Inlay Boots and went to a political strategy meeting.


When I was through with that, I kicked off the yuppie clothes, leathered up, and had some fun with my hunky partner. Oh, the boots? H-D Police Enforcer Boots. They work really well with chaps tucked into them (and nothing tucked into the chaps :-)).


On Monday, June 30, it was raining in the morning which meant that I couldn’t ride my Harley to the Metro. But it also meant that I could wear cowboy boots with leather soles that I ordinarily wouldn’t use while operating my bike. I chose my Largato Mexican full-quill ostrich cowboy boots which are as comfortable as slippers.
When I got home from work, I did work around the yard, and booted up in my ol’ comfy Harley Harness boots. They got a little dirty and muddy as I was helping a neighbor build a retaining wall in the stream behind his (and my) house. When I was done, I took the boots off outside to let ’em dry (and not track dirt inside the house, which is “frowned upon.”)

I changed to some boots I hadn’t worn in ages — my Tony Lama white Firewalker cowboy boots. I can‘t wear these for more than a couple hours ’cause they cause my feet to hurt due to the higher heel. I can’t really wear boots with a high heel. (Besides being a klutz, high-heeled boots just cause achy feet.)

Tuesday, July 1, dawned clear, so it was time to choose boots to use to ride to the Metro and which would look fine with dress clothes at work. I’m lookin’ again at my first pair of H-D Police Enforcer Boots… ah, so comfortable. And I really like how tall boots feel on my legs as I walk around during the day.

When I got home, it was time to mow the lawn. I changed to my Thorogood Station Boots which have become my knock-about work boots. They are comfortable and don’t get hot.

Then after a quick shower and having dinner at home (as usual) with my partner, I rushed off to a public hearing. I can dress casually for these hearings, but I like to wear nice lookin’ boots. Dan Post natural belly-cut python cowboy boots looked great with my dark denim jeans and black shirt.

Wednesday, July 2, was another typical ride-the-Harley to Metro morning, followed by a full day at work. Unlike some others, I don’t carry “work shoes” in my briefcase. I wear what I wear for the day when I walk out the door. Today I wore my Dan Post Black Cherry cowboy boots whose soles are worn enough that I could wear them while riding my Harley the two-mile distance to Metro. Mind you, if I were going to be riding a longer distance, I wouldn’t wear smooth-soled boots.

When I got home, I enjoying not having anything that I had to do, so I kicked back in my old comfy Chippewa Engineer Boots. Comfy as house slippers, but durable as heck. They’ve been through the mud, muck, and tens of thousands of miles on my (old) Harley. I grilled dinner for my partner and we ate it out on our deck. We enjoyed the evening, watching the sun slowly set and the critters in the forest behind us play.

Thursday, July 3, was a big day. I was joining five cop buddies of mine for a fundraiser. I left my house at 5:00am and rode with my friends to Ocean City, Maryland, and then we rode back west across the state. Knowing I was going to be booted all day long, I wanted boots that were comfortable, durable, and didn’t get hot. My favorite “biker boots” have become my Chippewa Firefighter Boots. Great sole, easy on the feet, and look great, too. What could be better?

I have to admit that when I got home, I was so tired, I took off my boots (and everything else) and sat in the hot tub with my partner for an hour, then went to bed.

Friday, July 4, was a busy day. I hosted a breakfast for two friends and their families who I had been coaching to become U.S. citizens. They were going to be sworn in as citizens in Baltimore. I put on my Dan Post black cherry Vegas cut cowboy boots, had a nice breakfast, then took off for Baltimore.

After the ceremony (which was great!), my partner wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go back home. When we got there, I changed into casual clothes. The boots I picked were my short black Wesco harness boots. I rode the Harley to my brother’s for a crab feast. I saw most of my family, had a great time, but then it looked like it was going to rain. I came home (and got there just as it began to rain. Whew!)

I found my hungry partner in the basement when I got home. I fixed him dinner, then we settled back in our rec room and chilled out. I kinda have to admit, I took off the boots and relaxed, in socks! (Me!). We cuddled, talked about the day, watched the Capitol Fourth show on TV, and then went to bed.

Hope you enjoyed this visit to about a week in a bootman’s life.

A Happy Independence Day

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Today the United States celebrates its birthday of 232 years since it declared itself independent from Britain. I prefer to call this day “Independence Day” because it the true name of the holiday. I mean, we can always wish someone a “Happy Fourth”, but then again, we can wish them a “Happy Fifth,” too. All days should be happy, but today is a great one to celebrate the birth of this great nation (with all its faults, it’s still a great place to be.)

I had been coaching two friends to become U.S. citizens for about a year now. They passed their citizenship test a few months ago. Today, they were sworn in as our newest citizens in Baltimore. What better way to enjoy this particular holiday but welcome new citizens to our country, and sign them up to vote!

Shortly after the ceremony, we celebrated at Fort McHenry, where the famous “Star Spangled Banner” flew during the bombardment of the fort during the war of 1812. Francis Scott Key was held aboard a British ship and watched the bombs bursting in air and the illumination of the flag throughout the night. Thus, he penned a poem which was put to music and became our National Anthem.

We will enjoy a traditional Maryland crab feast at my brother’s home with all of my humongous family this afternoon. Then if the weather permits, watch fireworks at Baltimore Harbor. It was the bombardment of Baltimore by the British during the War of 1812 that caused fireworks to be related to our country’s birthday celebration. What better place to enjoy fireworks but where that relationship was born?

I love this holiday, and hope you do too. Happy Independence Day, and Happy Birthday, America!

Dumb and Dumber

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I took the day off from work today and rode 212 miles with some cop buddies of mine. We had planned this ride for several months. We got people to pledge an amount of money (ranged from US$0.05 to US$1.00) per mile that we rode. My haul in pledges (computed for all the miles ridden today) was $2,819.60. Once collected, that will be donated to a charity that supports families of officers killed in the line of duty.

While riding across our beautiful State of Maryland, including the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and almost to what we call mountains way west of the bay, we observed a lot of people on the road, including other guys on motorcycles. I really can’t call some of them “bikers” because they weren’t. Dumb-dumbs wearing shorts and sneakers on a motorcycle are, well, dumb. Then there were the ding-dongs on bikes wearing (off all things), flip-flops. For a short jaunt into Pennsylvania to have lunch in Gettysburg, there were the [deleted] not wearing any helmet at all, since Pennsylvania repealed its mandatory helmet law. My jaw just dropped when I saw a guy on a big Harley like mine with his woman on the back seat riding happy-as-you-please way above the speed limit in shorts, sandals, no shirt, and no helmets. Oh my gosh. What stupidity.

Then I can’t begin to say what I think about the dumb-dumb drivers yakking away on hand-held cell phones, not looking where the heck they’re going. I really wish my state would adopt the cell phone laws that were enacted and took effect in California and Washington on July 1, which ban the use of anything but hands-free cell phones while operating a vehicle, and ban them completely for drivers who are under 18. Eventually… but our part-time legislature that looooooves to yak on their cell phones are hard to convince. I’ll keep workin’ at it.

I was booted as shown, in my Chippewa Firefighter Boots which are sooooo comfortable and they don’t get hot at all. I didn’t wear leather; it was above 90°F (32°C). Long jeans, shirt, and my full-face helmet, which is well vented and quite comfortable.

Not all the motorcyclists on the road were dumb-dumbs. Many wore boots, long pants, a shirt, and a helmet. But there were far too many in sneakers, shorts, and helmet-less. Uggggghhh… sorry, guys, I just can’t abide by the fact that even though the law permits it, some people have to be so thoughtless. Their medical bills cost all of us in higher insurance premiums and tax dollars spent at public hospitals to care for those who are injured and uninsured.

Who am I Now?

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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and musing with some friends and my partner… asking myself, “who am I now?”

My life is settled. I have a wonderful partner; regular full-time job that I enjoy; nice home in the quiet suburbs; a Harley (and a 4-wheeled vehicle too); great family, good friends, and a wonderfully accepting and tolerant community. I lead a busy civic life, and enjoy having opportunities to help make others’ lives just a little bit better each day. I am a fortunate man in many respects.

Am I the guy dressed in leather going to a leather bar? Not (any more.) Am I the cowboy entering the gay rodeo? Not (any more.) Am I the guy showing up at the gay pride festival? Not (any more.) But you may find me in boots and leather around my community and at home, and perhaps on my website or a few other places around the ‘net. I may not get out much, but I’m not dead (yet).

I am… the colleague who explains where to meet when the fire alarm goes off… the neighbor who helps you fix that broken window… the friend who commiserates the loss of a pet cat… the Road Captain who leads you on a fun and safe motorcycle ride… the homeowner’s association President who gets the county to repair your broken sidewalk… the civic activist who will be with you at a public hearing on local development issues and who testifies before local and state legislators about issues that will improve our community… the “nice young man” who escorts you to the polls to exercise your privilege to vote or who helps you compute your income tax return and file it… the fundraiser for local charities… the gentleman who organizes volunteers to install safety items in your home, and twists arms of local vendors to supply the materials… the cousin who shares your joy at the birth of your latest grandchild and updates the family tree… the nephew who takes you grocery shopping… the brother, uncle, and great uncle who loves you more than you’ll ever know… and the partner in every sense of the word to his one-and-only man.

Yeah, I guess I have changed, from a guy who played a bit in leather, but uses it now for riding his Harley than going out to leather bars. The former cowboy who if he rode a horse today couldn’t walk for a week. The guy who might sit and watch “CHiPs” re-runs on TV but now is so involved in the community, with friends, and with family, that he doesn’t even know what’s on any more (and doesn’t care).

My focus and interests have changed. Is it maturity? Is it age? Is it accepting that I am fulfilling my parents’ desires for a life fulfilled? I dunno. I muse. I wonder. But you know, I love my life and for that, I thank God, my family, my friends, and most of all, my loving and abiding partner. He really made it all happen for me, more than he will ever know.

Life is short. Wear your boots. Love those you love even more.

The Demise of Frye Boots

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As I was doing my routine review of the pages on my personal website that are viewed each month and tally the results from the logs, I continue to see that for 24 months running, my pages on Frye Boots remain the most visited on my website.

In June alone, there were more than 16,000 unique visitors who viewed one or more “Frye Boot” pages on my website. About 70% of the visitors were referred by a Google search, another 15% by other search engines, and the remaining visitors came from other pages within my own website. That’s pretty good, considering this is just a gay guy’s personal, non-commercial website. But that number is an indication that lots and lots and LOTS of people are searching for photos and information about Frye Boots.

Frye Boots sure have a huge reputation. Those of us “about my age” remember fondly seeing guys in Fryes while in high school, and perhaps getting a pair of our own. Man, I went “Frye-crazy” when I was in high school. There was this cool-looking dude that everyone admired who strolled into class one day in olive Frye campus boots. I swear, the next day, ten more guys had on Fryes!

The classic and unique look, the sound of their clunkly heels on the floor, and the feel of those boots was just something else. Even today, searches for “Vintage Frye Boots” are what’s driving lots of visitors to my website, to eBay, and to other sources on the web.

Pity that Frye as a boot-making company is no more. Yeah, that’s right. You can find the Frye website, and see them advertise their boots. But let me quote from what I wrote on the HotBoots “Tutorial” a while back:

“According to Frye, the Frye Company is the oldest continuously operated shoe company in the United States (Notice the careful choice of wording — they no longer refer to themselves as a shoemaker or bootmaker.) The company was founded in 1863 as the Frye Boot Company in Marlborough (or Marlboro), Massachusetts, and continued to produce their shoes and boots in that location until 2003, when they closed the plant, outsourced bootmaking to other countries, and relocated the company headquarters to Great Neck, New York.”

Yeah, that’s right. Frye boots available today are not made in the U.S. any more — they are mass-produced in China. Guys who have ordered the “new” Frye boots since 2003 have told me often how much they are disappointed with them. The quality is poor (compared with Vintage), the colors fade, the heels have come off, the threads have loosened, the insole is crappy, and the leather is not as thick.

So, if you are interested in Frye Boots, don’t buy new ones. Search eBay using the term “Vintage Frye Boots.” Then look carefully at the photos. Look for a “Frye” white label on the inside of the boot shafts. (Fryes made in the ’70s and earlier had a black label on the inside of the boot shaft.) Ask the seller when the boots were purchased. Don’t be fooled, and don’t buy boots from a company that now is merely a shell for what it once was — raking in money from a name, not the quality we once knew.

Choosing Boots

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Since I am an out an open Bootman, I have received a number of email messages asking me questions about buying boots. Over the past several months, I have been writing, on-and-off, my own “tutorial” version of things I consider when buying boots for my personal use.

You can find this information by clicking here.

Remember now, this is my own personal opinion. Every man who wears boots has different likes, dislikes, and preferences. For example, I don’t really like lace-up boots because I’m just too lazy to take the time to lace them properly. (And I guess it reminds me too much of shoes; yuck.) I wear cowboy boots primarily at my place of employment and for knockin’ around in my community at meetings and such. I wear motorcycle boots, of course, when riding my Harley.

I only wear boots, without a pair of sneakers or dress shoes to be found in MY closet (I won’t say what’s in my partner’s closet, but I love him anyway.) I change boots two to five times a day, depending on what I’m doing and where I am going. But to me, boots are functional footwear, as well as an avocation. They are, however, not a fetish. These sentences have links to past blog posts of mine that explain why. Visit them if you’re curious.

Meanwhile, visit my website page about choosing boots and let me know what you think. Stay booted!

Our County’s Finest

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Lined up, ready to escort us on a ride to raise funds for C.O.P.S. (Concerns of Police Survivors), here are my county’s finest motor officers. They’re great men, easy to talk to, hard workers, and among the best at what they do.

I enjoyed the ride along Maryland’s byways, non-stop along the way. An officer would block traffic at stoplights and major intersections so the 1,200 or so bikers on the ride could just roll through non-stop.

Man, what a great ride. I kinda wish the officers would take some pride in their boots, because most of the boots were dirty and scuffy. A nice shine would look good on those Dehners and Chippewas. But other than that, their graceful style of riding those big Police Harleys was quite a sight to behold, and enjoy.

One wonders about how such a big bike is handled so well. If you look closely at this officer, he is looking where he wants the bike to go — not looking at the bike or its controls. His body is upright, over the center of gravity of the bike. He is countersteering — pushing against the bar as he enters his turn. This method of operating a motorcycle takes lots of practice, skill, and training. When done correctly, it looks quite graceful. Such training for us regular bikers (in the U.S.) is available by taking the Motorcycle Safety Foundation’s Experienced Rider’s Course, offered periodically. I continue to learn a lot while watching our officers ride, and enjoy the opportunity to ride with the best.

Motor Officer Boots: Alternatives

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Continuing this week’s series on motor officer boots, I begin by exploring alternatives to the boots I blogged about on earlier days:

  • Chippewa Motor Patrol Boots
  • Dehner Patrol Boots

    • and

  • Chippewa Hi-Shine Engineer Boots


    • There are several alternatives available. Shown here are patrol boots     offered by Intapol Industries of New Jersey. One of the interesting features of these boots is a zipper along the seam of the boot shaft to facilitate putting them on and taking them off. They also offer various widths from stock, but do not offer custom sizing. They insert a plastic back stay to ensure the boot doesn’t “break bad” at the ankles. The “Amazonas” sole is about as goofy as the sole found on the Chippewa Motor Patrol Boot, in that it must have a low melting temperature and leaves black marks on hot motorcycle pipes. The boots shown here were made in Brazil. The current boot in production (with soft lug soles) is made in India. My opinion: a nice affordable alternative for a bal-laced boot but not really good for regular duty wear on a motorcycle. Quality is questionable. Fine for BLUF events when used with leather breeches.

    Another nice alternative bal-laced boot is the H-D Police Enforcer Boot which is made by Wolverine under the Harley brand. These boots were discontinued probably because motor officers wouldn’t think of going to a Harley store to buy boots. Also, the boots are made in China and it‘s unfortunate but true: Chinese-made boots lack a lot in quality. However, these are the most comfortable of all the patrol boots I own. The insole that comes with the boots is outstanding. They are also a bit wider naturally, so they accommodate a larger calf size well, including being able to have leather tucked inside them comfortably. The soles are somewhat soft, but haven’t left black marks on my bike’s pipes. I really like these boots, but since they were discontinued, they’re not available any more.

    Another beautiful boot is the Hartt Strathcona. It was made in Canada, but the manufacturer, the Hartt Shoe and Boot Company, went out of business. This boot is also exceptionally comfortable, and has a rugged, durable, lug sole. I got these boots in Vancouver, Canada, back in the ’90s and still enjoy wearing them. They have the widest calf of all of my motor officer boots, so I can wear them with the thickest of leathers. I am considering now looking at boots made by Rino of Toronto. However, because the U.S. economy is such a shambles due to mismanagement by this Administration, I’ll have to wait. Canadian prices for their products haven’t come down just because the value of the U.S. dollar declined by half in the last few years.

    The last boot I’ll blog about in this series is the Wesco Motor Patrol Boot. A photo of the boot from the Wesco website is shown here. I have a pair of boots that is sort of a hybrid between the Motor Patrol Boot and the Wesco Boss. That is, it has the design of a motor patrol boot but the sole of the Boss boot. These U.S.-made boots are rugged and work exceptionally well as designed. There are absolutely no flaws in construction. The leather is thicker than all other patrol boots I have seen, which is why the few cops I have seen wearing them have complained that they get hot while worn on duty. They are expensive, as well, competing in price with Dehners.

    There are other manufacturers of boots, too. I have yet to see a pair of All American Boots or some others, and I’ll keep looking.

    Hope you enjoyed this series on motor officer boots. I’m not sure what’s next. Tune in….