Crew Wool Work Sock

These boot socks are awesome and amazing. Merino wool, natural, breathable and made in the US! What else can you ask for from a sock? I am still to test the durability but by the way construction seems and the fabrics feel I can say it will be a smooth ride! Keep up the good work guys!

They fit great. My feet are not fatigued after work. They have turned into my everyday socks. Great product. I will definitely be buying more.

Switched over from darn tough and been happy so far. Nothing wrong with darn tough at all, just wanted to try something different. Would definitely recommend to anyone looking for a good everyday sock.

I’m a firefighter and have trouble finding comfortable socks that don’t make my feet sweat, still being tough. Until now! These are the best socks I’ve ever owned and I’m so glad they are made in the USA! Keep up the great work!

Ordered a pair of every high end sock I could find for comparison. These were easily the most comfortable. Working 10 hour days in construction glad I found them.

I wasn’t sure I would like the cushioning, but it’s very comfortable. The quality is great. They have the right amount of stretch in the upper half, and it’s not all concentrated in band at the top, like some socks that cut off your circulation. I’m very happy with my purchase and I love that they’re made in the U.S.A.

So last week, I awoke with a hankering need for some fresh work socks. I liked that Camel City Mills are thermoregulated and made in the USA, just like my Pappi, so I decided to pull the trigger and buy a few pairs.

Now my home doesn’t get shipping, so I had them delivered to the nearest steakhouse and called my buddy, Jax Gunner, a retired Air Force pilot turned Hurricane Hunter, to pick them up and airdrop them during his next flyby. As luck would have it, he was just on his way to survey a storm forming off the coast of Caicos Island. He packed the socks full of blended iron and strapped them with a GPS locator before calling me on our Kymeta KyWay Go U7s to say he dropped them about 40 klicks northeast of my home. 33,000 feet up, the wind carried them closer than I’d have liked, and they landed about 20 kilometers from my fishing dock. I was hoping for a proper morning hike, but 12 miles would burn off the eggs and bacon from breakfast if I put enough weight on my back, so that’s what I did.

Trudging through alpine forests with my trusty mule, Ferguson Gipsy, slung over my shoulder, I made good time, and soon I was standing over 3 pairs of Heavyweight Wool Work Socks. It was raining and Ferguson was starting to sop, so I broke a piece of yellow buckeye off a tree, took some iron from the socks to use as flint stones, and stripped off my old pair for firestarter. Sitting in the rain while Ferguson dried, I surveyed my new buskins. I could tell they were legitimate because they were almost as dry as I was even with the torrential downpour slapping their raw hide. Moreover, hitting the ground at terminal velocity would have torn most stockings asunder, but the Heavyweights hadn’t a hole or tear on ‘em. After I sanded down my callouses with a piece of jagged quartz, I used the fresh socks to wipe the mud off my Burnellos balmorals before packing the boots back in my rucksack – it felt right to trek home in just the legwear and break them in. I dropped a slab of raw tomahawk over the fire to kill it, threw Ferguson back over my shoulder, and started making my way uphill.

I was sold faster than a cheetah at a pug race, but I wanted to see what their breaking point was, so I decided to make a day of the excursion and wandered toward a trail of roaming Canids I spotted on my way out – see I was carrying a fife I fashioned from a razorback’s tusk, which I had been itching to play from atop the mountains nearby. Besides, one of the peaks had a ropeslide leading downhill, which I could use to test the threads’ tensile strength. For the trek up, the socks were almost as durable as my bare feet, and breathable enough to keep from sweating between my toes. I would have forgotten I was wearing them if it weren’t for the reinforced padding and the lack of a cold up-draft on my shins.

Just before I reached the mountain’s peak, I caught up to the pack of wolves. Ferguson was uneasy as they growled hungrily toward us, so I patted his flank and set him up against my right hip. I had plenty of meat to spare in my rucksack, so pulled out some pieces of cured razorback and filled each of the 2nd pair with the stuff. I closed each sock with a Palomar knot and tossed the unyielding chew-toys to the stack before whisking up Ferguson for the final ascent. I looked back about 40 yards later and it was clear the pups would be pulling at those socks for years.

When we reached the peak, I withdrew my fife and played Starwood in Aspen while a black Kestrel flew overhead. Some time later, I surveyed the peak for the zipline. I saw it there, not 200 yards out. I walked over with Ferguson and pulled out the 3rd pair of socks. A tug of one of them, it was clear it could take our weight. But could it withstand miles of accelerating decline on a 3/4-inch steel line…I had to know. I took one of the tubes and gently tied Ferguson’s ankles together, then I lifted his legs overhead and draped him on my back. Whipping the last free sock over the line, I twisted it once, clutched my left hand around it, and lifted my feet.

Sparks began to spit in all directions. If anyone had seen us, they’d probably guess a welding rod was being used to sure the line. Soon enough we reached my favorite drop-off point. I let loose the sock and we fell 30 feet, smashing on a stump of petrified redwood - it cracked like a 20-gauge buckshot, and scores of sparrows took flight to the sky around us. I’ll admit, the force of the blow may have blistered my heel were it not for the durable padding of the things.

The rest of the trek was placid and calm: Ferguson stretched his legs while I played Back Home Again on the fife, refilled by hummingbird feeders, and caught a couple Pike trawling with the socks off the back of my rowboat. I never did find their breaking point, but all in all it was a good day. I’ll be buying another pair of the Heavyweights to replace the one I left with the pups. I think I’ll also buy some Lightweights for the summer ...