Years ago Janie and I went to a wedding in Buena Vista, Colorado.The guest list included horses and mules, cats and dogs, and of course cowgirls and cowboys. The setting was exquisite. Clear, dark blue evening sky with the first planets of the night visible. The backdrop of The Collegiate Range' 14,000 foot peaks didn't detract from the picture either. As expected, the bride and groom rode in on horseback dressed in full western regalia. Around us were hats and spurs, belt buckles and bolos, deerskin and fringe, but it was the boots that captured the image of the night. I have always loved cowboy boots. Ever since I was 6 years old and my parents came back to Norway after traveling in the U.S. have I owned not just one pair. But that night it became clear to me that boots were more than an iconic symbol of the west, they were a way of self expression.