On my way to work this morning, I stopped at Ripstop Repairs to get the sternum strap on my pack re-attached.
(Don’t be silly like me and clip your sternum strap to the line on a tyrolean. Pop!)
Ripstop’s door was locked, so I ran into Rock and Resole, next door, to ask whether they knew when they opened.
What’s killer about what happened next starts with what I already wrote: I live here. I can stop at Ripstop or R&R on my way to work or class or after climbing or whatever (and have multiple times). Most cities don’t have something like Rock and Resole. People from all over the country send their precious climbing shoes to R&R and live without them for a while. They pine for their absent shoes. They moan when they come home to an empty doorstep — no shoebox sent with love from Boulder, ohhhh sad panda.
We get to walk in the shop and see the guys working on the shoes in person.
The Rock and Resole guys took one look at my backpack and said they’d fix it on the spot. That’s right, the cobblers fixed my pack. In 10 minutes. With an ancient wrought-iron Singer sewing machine. For $2.
Happy Boulder panda! Thanks guys! I’ll be back when my sloppy footwork wears out another pair of climbing shoes…