[Hmmmm... maybe not the most accurate title ever...]
I see conversations all the time online, and I hear them in the bait shop, from guys who've spent hundreds of dollars on their chest waders because anything less would mean cheap, low-quality waders that would fall apart if a gnat sneezed on them. I'd laugh inside every time because my less than $50 Gander Mountain brand breathable chest waders have carried me through nearly 5 years of trouble-free wading through water, mud, weeds, down rocky banks, up two trees, over thousands of miles of highway (I put them on before I leave the house in order to save time), into a few pizza shops, innumerable trips into bait stores and fly shops, and probably have become my most often worn article of clothing.
So that's why, when I felt the sudden rush of cold hitting my left ankle last week, I was hit a very real sadness. I knew their time had come.
I was wading the shallow edge of a deep pool on the Allegheny River, casting minnows to some very cooperative Smallmouth Bass. It was a Grey day, and I was bundled up against the cold. A denim jacket, two sweatshirts and a hoodie covered my upper body, and beneath my treasured waders I wore only sweat pants.
I'd caught a number of fish and was delicately poised between 3 boulders, about calf deep. I'd wedged my right foot between two of the boulders, and rested my left against the base of the other. I was slowly retrieving my minnow while admiring a flock of gulls coasting out over the river, calling to each other over and over again, when the top of my left ankle turned to ice! My instant fear was confirmed in less time than it takes to tell, as that icy grip spread across my ankle and down my heel.
My heart sank as I realized that, with my love of wading, my fishing year was coming to a serious postponement, if not end. I left about an hour later and drove home dispirited to say the least. I stood in my kitchen prying off the stockingfeet of my waders, exposing my now certified wet stocking
foot.
I briefly pondered repairing the leaky foot, but quickly realized two things: they were inexpensive when new and this could be my excuse for a new pair!
I could make the effort to repair them. I have repaired neoprene waders before, and every blood stain, scratch and smell in these things has it's own unique story. However, if memory serves, they cost me about $40 and that's
real close to the tipping point of the "repair and spend labor-hours/spend a few dollars for a new one" value.
I think the toughest part is that I'm a sentimental kinda guy. I dig the idea of looking at a pair of old waders, covered in patches and various stains, and reliving the stories that put each blemish in place. You can imagine the difficulty I have with the manufacturing standards of today. "Build it as cheaply as possible out of the cheapest materials and they can buy another one in a year" is the mantra of so many companies these days that fewer and fewer people even expect high quality out of the material goods they buy now.
Many kids aren't taught how to repair things anymore. "Smaller and lighter" have somehow become adjectives denoting quality, when just over a decade ago the terms large and heavy indicated something made with quality ingredients and a portion of pride. But, I digress...
I haven't checked wader prices recently, but I could probably get another pair of the same brand for nearly the same price. I can't justify the expensive (over $120) pairs on my budget, although I seriously want a pair with the built-in fly (no explanation needed.)
So, fix-'em or buy a new pair seem to be my best options. Which would you do?
