I have a huge J-shaped scar on my foot to remind me not to be an idiot by going barefoot in water, whether it be a muddy pond, a raging river, or a tiny trickle along the trail.

When I was a wee lass of nine or ten, my cousins and I, bored with our family picnic at a local park, went swimming in Lake Lanier in an area frequented more by picnickers and fishermen than swimmers.

Ah, youth.

My cousin carried me out of the water while I was screaming bloody murder, a trail of watery blood trickling out of a very deep gash in my instep. Somewhere between all the laughter and splashing and the joy of feeling the red mud squishing between my toes, I’d managed to find what were probably the remnants of a broken beer bottle in the murky depths.

I felt horrible: I blamed myself for ruining the family gathering, I had to get a tetanus shot, and I got to listen to the ER doc cuss under his breath about the toughness of my tomboy feet while he broke a few needles sewing me up.

Since then, I have worn some type of footwear while in the water, without fail, whether that be a pair of ratty sneakers, or thin, made-in-Asia watershoes of the WallyWorld variety.

Several years ago, while learning to kayak in NOC’s Rapid Progressions Program, someone handed me a pair of NRS Kicker Wetshoes, and I fell in love.

Whoever designed the NRS Kicker Wetshoe was most certainly a whitewater enthusiast who took great pride in developing an all-around water shoe adaptive to most any condition. I’ve worn mine canoeing, kayaking, hiking, tubing the ‘Hooch—heck, even fishing.

With an adjustable locking drawstring around the ankle and a sturdy Velcro strap around the midfoot, unlike the cheap made-in-Asias, they don’t fall off. In fact, they hug the foot. But because they are made of neoprene, which when wet is both insulating and pliable, they don’t blister or chafe. Also, thanks to the neoprene, unlike the times I wore my ratty old sneakers, my feet never get cold.

Because the shoe encapsulates the whole foot, I never have to worry about stubbing my toe on a rock or getting sand or other debris in the shoe, leading to discomfort. (I’m looking at you, Keen.)

The soles are made of a thick, grippy rubber (sort of like climbing shoes, but with tread) and provide great traction on a variety of surfaces – in your kayak preventing foot fatigue while bracing, on slippery rocks (both on the bank and underwater), on trail. The soles also wrap up around the toe and sides of the foot, providing both traction and protection for the tenderest parts of my feet. I have never loved my NRSes as much as when I’ve gotten my foot wedged between two river rocks, though I admit, on occasion, I’ve wished for more ankle protection.

I find them comfortable enough to wear all day, multiple days in a row. I recently took them on a four-day canoe trip down the Alapaha River, and while I brought other shoes with me, I never wore anything besides my NRSes.

Though they’re not that expensive to begin with at around $36 a pair, I am pretty tickled to tell you that I am still wearing the same pair I bought used for twelve bucks at an NOC gear sale almost ten years ago.

That they are still making them, with few discernible updates in design, is a testament to the shoe. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. (Seriously, NRS, don't go messin' with a good thing!)

Comfort, functionality, and durability - it doesn’t get much better than that, folks.

Grade: A+++++