We noticed that many exhibitors were wearing BEDROCK SANDALS at the recent Enter Zone Outdoor ( E.Z.O ) in Hokkaido, and we truly felt that they are starting to be recognized and garner interest among lifestyle cyclists and outdoor activity enthusiasts.
This time, we are sharing a blog post from the brand's home country about how the heel strap of the Pro model proved its worth through hiking and hike-touring in various regions.
Danielle Vilaplana, a.k.a. Sonic, is a long-distance adventurer and photographer. Danielle tested the first prototype of the new Sandal Pro II during her thru-hike of the muddy Hayduke Trail.
Below, she shares her experiences in the American Southwest and introduces the Pro II’s hook heel strap. Follow her on Instagram to check out Danielle’s photos and stories.
Adventures in the Red Dirt Castle
“Whisper sweet nothings to the boat,” Gabe said. I did.
There wasn’t much else for a passenger to do as emotional support, and my desire to swim the rapids was about as limited as Gabe’s desire to wreck his boat during the first few days of our trip.
However, when rafting in a wobbling wooden boat at low water levels in Cataract Canyon, as anyone would expect, we crashed and we swam.
I can’t forget the wobbly roar of wood hitting rock and that split second where Gabe’s head disappeared underwater. But I don’t remember falling out of the boat myself. I should have been prepared to be thrown into the rapids.
I’ve jumped into waves with a surfboard and flipped a packraft before, but a chilly October morning wasn’t exactly ideal.
For several hours, we scraped through sand, crossed rocks, straightened the hull, and set it down on the ground.
Then we checked the items we had lost—my hat, the coffee pot (which I’d used to bail water out of the boat after the bilge pump broke), and most of our food. Gabe started repairing the boat. While looking at the color of my toes and salvaging a muddy Oreo, I didn’t even think about my footwear.
And that is a sign of good shoes. Bedrock’s new heel-hook strap sandals weren’t my first experience with them; they had sent me an early prototype when it became clear that velcro straps were reaching their limit in the unforgiving mud of the Hayduke Trail. The original Cairn was perfect for a summer in Teton granite and clear water, but you need incredibly rugged gear to endure the gritty, hellish conditions of Wyoming.
Utah is an aspirational state for the outdoors, with climbers filling Wall Street and cars loaded with mountain bikes driving along River Road.
I was drawn to the path of the "expert with nothing," throwing myself into every challenge with ordinary, modest tools and my own skills.
However, collecting hobbies is time-consuming and expensive, and the people most devoted to the dirtbag lifestyle—at least within the privileged outdoor community—are often the ones with the least to spare. You might be able to barter Debs for Nuun on the trail, but I don’t think Armada accepts that as "currency."
That’s why I rode a gravel bike instead of a mountain bike on the White Rim Trail in Canyonlands. Andrew and Josh tackled the intense climbs occasionally, while I gave up on using my 1x drivetrain and pushed the bike up the hills.
My bones rattled on the sandstone, and the narrow tires and brakes were tested on the steep, sandy descents. Each time we hiked or cycled, dust caked into Andrew’s velcro straps, but my prototype remained unaffected.
This kind of "underbiking" (riding a bike not suited for a specific route) eats up time, and in the fading daylight of October, we stopped in the dark, 15 miles away from our campsite.
While puffing on a cheese and seaweed cigar, I was moved by Joseph Smith’s work and jokingly shouted, "I live here!" But in reality, "here" was a Walmart parking lot in Cottonwood Heights.
The first Bedrocks didn’t seem ideal for a cold spring hike from Arches to Zion.
This is a place where troublesome mud demands a sacrifice of your shoes and cactus needles easily pierce your feet. However, throughout the 800-mile journey on the Hayduke, I rarely felt at a disadvantage in my Bedrock sandals, and I was impressed by their performance, sticking to sandstone walls and gripping tightly onto rocky corners.
We met doppelgängers on a similar journey in Glen Canyon, racing Stoney Baloney and the Scooby Squad down cliffs and canyons toward the Needles outpost. In the end, I was the only one in the group to finish that "real-life video game."
Yet in Zion, I sat surrounded by many people in hiking boots, feeling a mix of pain and relief born from the fun.
The Utah backcountry is no place to be unprepared, but because of its harshness, a certain cavalier grace is essential.
You might worry about what to do if you lack essential wilderness skills or local knowledge... but this combination of actual capability and absurdity is exactly what elevates a trip to an unforgettable dimension.
It might be exciting, it might be terrifying, or perhaps it’s both—but I know I can hike 500 miles with potato-like heels, and Gabe can maneuver his boat through low-water rapids.
This attitude is why I keep wearing Bedrocks and why I push the heel hook strap on the PRO model.
When I plan a trip, I work toward permits, survival logistics, and the compatibility of my sandals with crampons. I also solidify my gear list so I don’t have to think about the basic items I need as much as possible.
It was a relief to know I had footwear that could withstand jumping into quicksand, having a broken leg while on crutches, and digging a truck out of a snowy mountain—anything I threw myself into.
When strong people fall into difficult situations, they turn back and order Domino's. These sandals carried me from a pizza shop in Escalante to the highest peak in the Uintas. As long as there are places I want to go, Bedrock Sandals will keep doing their job and remain a trusted companion.
All photos and words © Danielle Vilaplana. Follow Danielle’s adventures on instagram.
Translated by Circles.