Another good 30 centimetres fell overnight. The smell of breakfast, which our landlady is making for us, is already drifting up from downstairs. She's fantastic. Both the breakfast and the landlady. We'll eat and head out. From the headboard of the bed I grab blue-grey ski socks with the Bridgedale logo on the toe. I think today will be our sixth ski day here in Georgia. And every morning I slide my feet into my ski boots wearing the very same socks.
Because they don't smell at all. Only when I pull them out of my ski boots after a full day of skinning and skiing is there a faint whiff in the air. But as soon as they dry, the odour is gone. Merino wool is simply a gift of nature. And even after being worn in ski boots day after day, the socks stay soft, as if I'd just taken them out of the dryer – no sweat-starched tin cans. Enough talk, let's get to it! The powder is calling. And I'll probably pull that second pair of Bridgedale socks out of my bag just for appearances' sake – after all, skiing the whole of Georgia in one pair of socks would be weird, right?
Freshly knitted socks are half as big again as the final product. They are then steam-washed several times and shaped on a form – until they reach their final size.
— from the Bridgedale sock production process
True, that's not exactly pocket money. But which socks can you wear for a week or longer? Well, you can wear any socks. The question is what the people around you think about it. And my daily routine is certainly no gentle shuffle. Mornings working in a café in town, afternoons at the crag, evenings on a floor covered in dog hair and splinters from a chewed-up stick. Tomorrow we'd better take the beast on an all-day trip to the Jizera Mountains. And so on, round and round, flat out. Two pairs a year are enough. Because Bridgedale lasts – no worn-out heels or holey toes. Unlike cheap socks which, if you're lucky, end up in the bin after six months.
The merino wool yarn is first wrapped in a synthetic fibre, and only then are the socks knitted from it. This creates a dense, hard-wearing knit that you won't wear through in a hurry.
— from the Bridgedale sock production process
First snow in the Jeseníky Mountains. That light dusting that sugar-coats the mountains but doesn't yet flatten the bilberry bushes. I'm walking along an old hunting path. Wet grass brushes against my low Gore-Tex hiking shoes, and with every touch it tries to push moisture through the membrane. The trail climbs up to the ridges. I wade through bilberries and snow pours into my shoes from above. That's where the membrane gives up. My feet report damp inside. And it's still a good two hours' walk home to the warm. Over similar terrain.
I pull Bridgedale waterproof socks out of my pack – last year's new release. I brought them as a backup for exactly this situation. I pull them on instead of my soaked socks and put my damp hiking shoes back on. Now merino wool keeps me warm and a waterproof membrane keeps the water at a respectful distance from my feet. After six hours outside I unlock the front door. I'm done in. Shoes soaked through – feet just fine.
The Hydrotech membrane has a hydrostatic head of >10,000 mm and is breathable enough to cope even with intense activity.
Well, with the autumn drizzle on its way, I reckon my Bridgedale Stormsocks will be seeing plenty of action. After all, mud and rain are no reason to stop running in the mountains.
Just one warning to finish. The first time you put them on, the first step, the first all-day hike. Bridgedale socks are simply different. Soft, comfortable and unbelievably tough. It's hard to describe, you have to try it. Just be prepared not to take them off for at least a week. Except maybe to sleep.
Hike Lightweight – for hiking boots and low hiking shoes, from Czech mountains all the way up to four-thousanders.
Hike Ultralight – all year round in low hiking shoes and around town.
Stormsocks – for autumn and winter running, and as a backup in foul weather.
Ski Lightweight – for freeriding and ski touring.
