Gear : Reviews
Reviews for CTC
Average Rating : 4.33 out of 5
Item Details | Reviews
Review
Review by: j_ung, 2005-12-29
[size=12][b]Full Disclosure: The company that manufactured this equipment provided it free of charge to RC.com and RC.com then provided it as compensation to the reviewer for his or her review. This company does not currently advertise on RC.com.[/b]
<img src="http://photos.rockclimbing.com/photos//669/66914.jpg"
alt="CTC" align="right" />
[i]Photo by Topher Donahue. All rights reserved.[/i]
The year was 1994 and my approach shoes, the latest in a string of disappointments, had finally stomped my last nerve into dust. Face pinched with disgust, hands shaking with frustration, I held my mangled, delaminated, water-logged approach shoes Boston-Strangler style and [i]approached[/i] the nearest trash can. Too tight around the instep… too floppy in the toe box… the water resistance of a sponge or without the durability of a paper bag – I’d had it with so-called approach shoes (can you hear the disdain dripping from my lips like venom as I say the words, [i]approach shoes[/i]?). It would be ten years before I would wear another pair of those... things. I would spend the next decade in hiking boots that were sturdier, running shoes that were more agile and fit better or just plain anything that didn’t fall apart at around mile five.
So it is with some trepidation that, three months ago, I slipped into yet another pair of approach shoes, this time with a review in mind. It might be funnier if I could use this opportunity to take my revenge on every pair approach shoes prior, but unfortunately – fortunately, if you’re Montrail – my new CTCs are the shit.
Why was I surprised? Montrail, after all, is no stranger to light trail shoes, as the world-wide success of its trail running line can attest. On the trail the sole is well cushioned, but just a bit stiffer than the average approach shoe. I needed a few walks to really get to used them, but once I did, I appreciated the layer between me and every golf-ball-sized pebble; my feet stayed fresher longer. A mesh upper keeps my feet ventilated, but also makes them a bit too light for winter walking. A generous swath of rand that makes it all the way round the shoe keeps most water out on wet days. I have to be a little careful to lace them tightly, otherwise my feet slide around in them just the tiniest bit.
On the rock the stiff sole combined with Montrail’s Gyptonite make the CTC my long and moderate shoe of choice. I climb everything under 5.7 and longer than one pitch in them and it’s the first time I’ve felt comfortable doing [i]that[/i] in quite some time! The rand helps a ton in hand-sized and beyond cracks, and again, the stiff sole comes in handy. On easy terrain, the CTCs perform as well as any too-big rock shoe. I found myself runout on more than on occasion, but still edging and smearing with confidence. My partner for eight pitches and two fourth-class descents one sunny day will grudgingly admit her jealousy over watching me lead, follow, scramble and hop carelessly and effortlessly from boulder to boulder like a hairy, sweaty wood sprite… all in the same pair of shoes.
But the best part of all – and I’m not saying you can’t find this in any other approach shoe – is the durability of the CTC. Since first stepping into them over three months ago, I’ve made them my primary shoe for everything from stomping around the woods with the dog, to strolling the mean streets of Fayetteville, to approaching the New River crags and leading long moderates, and I even use them as my running/gym shoe. I’ve logged oodles of miles in them and they look like the day I opened the box, except a lot dirtier.
So here I am, at long last, happy in a pair of approach shoes. I had forgotten how much a good layer of sticky rubber can affect my life in aspects other than just climbing and “approaching.” My feet are sticky and comfortable and my trash can is empty.[/size]
<img src="http://photos.rockclimbing.com/photos//669/66914.jpg"
alt="CTC" align="right" />
[i]Photo by Topher Donahue. All rights reserved.[/i]
The year was 1994 and my approach shoes, the latest in a string of disappointments, had finally stomped my last nerve into dust. Face pinched with disgust, hands shaking with frustration, I held my mangled, delaminated, water-logged approach shoes Boston-Strangler style and [i]approached[/i] the nearest trash can. Too tight around the instep… too floppy in the toe box… the water resistance of a sponge or without the durability of a paper bag – I’d had it with so-called approach shoes (can you hear the disdain dripping from my lips like venom as I say the words, [i]approach shoes[/i]?). It would be ten years before I would wear another pair of those... things. I would spend the next decade in hiking boots that were sturdier, running shoes that were more agile and fit better or just plain anything that didn’t fall apart at around mile five.
So it is with some trepidation that, three months ago, I slipped into yet another pair of approach shoes, this time with a review in mind. It might be funnier if I could use this opportunity to take my revenge on every pair approach shoes prior, but unfortunately – fortunately, if you’re Montrail – my new CTCs are the shit.
Why was I surprised? Montrail, after all, is no stranger to light trail shoes, as the world-wide success of its trail running line can attest. On the trail the sole is well cushioned, but just a bit stiffer than the average approach shoe. I needed a few walks to really get to used them, but once I did, I appreciated the layer between me and every golf-ball-sized pebble; my feet stayed fresher longer. A mesh upper keeps my feet ventilated, but also makes them a bit too light for winter walking. A generous swath of rand that makes it all the way round the shoe keeps most water out on wet days. I have to be a little careful to lace them tightly, otherwise my feet slide around in them just the tiniest bit.
On the rock the stiff sole combined with Montrail’s Gyptonite make the CTC my long and moderate shoe of choice. I climb everything under 5.7 and longer than one pitch in them and it’s the first time I’ve felt comfortable doing [i]that[/i] in quite some time! The rand helps a ton in hand-sized and beyond cracks, and again, the stiff sole comes in handy. On easy terrain, the CTCs perform as well as any too-big rock shoe. I found myself runout on more than on occasion, but still edging and smearing with confidence. My partner for eight pitches and two fourth-class descents one sunny day will grudgingly admit her jealousy over watching me lead, follow, scramble and hop carelessly and effortlessly from boulder to boulder like a hairy, sweaty wood sprite… all in the same pair of shoes.
But the best part of all – and I’m not saying you can’t find this in any other approach shoe – is the durability of the CTC. Since first stepping into them over three months ago, I’ve made them my primary shoe for everything from stomping around the woods with the dog, to strolling the mean streets of Fayetteville, to approaching the New River crags and leading long moderates, and I even use them as my running/gym shoe. I’ve logged oodles of miles in them and they look like the day I opened the box, except a lot dirtier.
So here I am, at long last, happy in a pair of approach shoes. I had forgotten how much a good layer of sticky rubber can affect my life in aspects other than just climbing and “approaching.” My feet are sticky and comfortable and my trash can is empty.[/size]
