The modern brogue has its roots in the footwear intrepid sorts once used to traverse the peat bogs in the Gaelic throngs of the British Isles. The distinctive perforations, known as brogueing (from the Irish bróg or Scottish bròg, meaning “shoe”), were designed to allow water to drain quickly from the shoe. Later adopted by those hoity-toity types known as the English, they have long been considered a standard article within a gentleman’s outdoors or out-of-town wardrobe, if wholly (and holey) inappropriate for business occasions. It is a hardy piece of equipment, traditionally called upon to tackle unwieldy landforms rarely encountered by polite society within modern conurbations. Perhaps the frozen surface of Lake Khövsgöl in the remotest northern flank of itself fairly far-flung Mongolia is beyond the shoe’s intended remit, but a good pair, as we have recently learnt, is clearly up to the task.

The pair in question were worn by Mr Peter Messervy-Gross in his recent completion of the Rat Race Mongol 100. This challenge is an ultra-marathon in classification, although not one you could comfortably take on in a vest, shorts and a pair of running shoes. The race course covers 100 miles across the metre-thick solid surface of Khövsgöl Nuur, the largest freshwater lake in Mongolia (by volume, if not area), where temperatures dip to -30ºC at night.

Mr Messervy-Gross had originally intended taking on the challenge wearing more suitable footwear. But following the loss of his baggage on his inbound flight, and unable to find alternative gear in Mongolia’s capital, Ulaanbaatar, he entered the race wearing the clothing he’d brought with him on the flight – jeans and the aforementioned brogue boots, with thermal underwear and mini-crampons borrowed from other participants.

Dubbed “the rogue in brogues”, Mr Messervy-Gross, a resident of Jersey, completed the event in four days, suffering only blisters. The four-year-old brogues, meanwhile, could do with a resole.