From the Front Lines to the Last Frontier: A History of the Bunny Boot

It was 1974 and a cold, early March morning in Anchorage when Rod Perry discovered an issue with his gear. For many far northerners, the longtime musher and volunteer is more famous for his lead dog, the charismatic Fat Albert, who was a canine star of the early Iditarod races. On this day, Perry was preparing for the race's ceremonial start, but he could not find one of his boots. No ordinary footwear, these were insulated bunny boots that would allow his feet to survive the bitter cold journey to Nome. 

Rohn Buser on the trail with VBX MAX Bunny Boots near Susitna Sled Dog Adventures in Talkeetna, Alaska.

Their time in the starting chute was approaching, and Perry became desperate. A missing bunny boot was the difference between participation and not, between frostbite and not. His father asked a radio station to broadcast a plea for assistance. In no time at all, Anchorage residents delivered 139 pairs of the appropriate boots to the starting line, all in Perry’s size and still before his start time. For of course, Anchorage folk had bunny boots aplenty. What else were they going to wear in winter?

Bunny boots are an iconic footwear style, especially for their earned reputation for hardiness and warmth. That road to icon status was unique, transitioning from the winter-blasted terrain of North Korea to the snowmachine playgrounds of the northern states. In Alaska, they became something more, a piece of the cultural landscape. 

The Military’s Cold Feet Problem

During World War II, the upper echelons of the American military realized the services were woefully unready for combat in extreme temperatures, particularly in the more frigid climes. Such concerns intensified after the war as the Soviet Union emerged as a primary nemesis. Put simply, the United States was unaccustomed and ill-prepared for Arctic or near-Arctic confrontations. For effective performance at low temperatures, all aspects of the military would have to be studied and possibly reengineered, from complex aircraft to the seemingly simple boot.

Ski soldier during the environmental training at the Cold Weather and Mountain School, Alaska Source: Annual Report of the Secretary of the Army for Fiscal Year 1962 

The Army established the Army Air Corps’ Cold Weather Testing Detachment at Ladd Field outside Fairbanks, Alaska in 1940. In 1947, the Air Force founded the Arctic Aeromedical Laboratory at Randolf Air Force Base in Texas, though it was likewise relocated to Alaska. Its stated purpose was “to solve the severe environmental problems of men living and working in the Arctic.” Army and Air Force installations across the territory served as testing grounds for the latest in cold-weather gear, from food to clothing to weapons. Antarctic scientists and explorers were questioned for their recommendations.

When the United States entered World War II in 1941, soldiers still wore the boots worn at the conclusion of World War I in 1918. A new model was quickly pressed into service, but both designs were hindered by a significant flaw, the underlying belief that all boots must be breathable. In cold and damp conditions, that meant feet became cold and damp with minimal delay. The shoes were made to fit snugly, and the leather further shrunk when wet. Soldiers were thus physically unable to wear thicker socks or multiple pairs as insulation. And changing wet socks was pointless, since the new pair would become sodden as well. 

Several interventions were attempted, from greasy weatherproofing to rubber shoe guards, but the war ended without any more effective alternatives. At temperatures below freezing, frostbite sets in. At temperatures above freezing, wet boots caused trench foot, also known as jungle rot. The exposure causes blood vessels to constrict, limiting circulation to the feet. Symptoms advance from itching to numbness to open sores. Amputations and even deaths were common. During the Aleutian campaign of 1943, to reclaim the Alaska islands of Attu and Kiska from Japanese forces, the Army lost more men to cold conditions than in battle. During the Italian campaign later that year, trench foot accounted for 20 percent of American casualties. 

Breaking the “Breathable Boot” Rule

A breakthrough came in 1944 at the Army Quartermaster Climatic Research Laboratories in Lawrence, Massachusetts. That March, Dr. Paul A. Siple and Harry C. Bazett constructed a prototype for a new kind of footwear. To avoid soggy feet, they placed insulation between two impermeable layers, a succession of socks from rubber to wool to rubber. Again, this design broke with orthodoxy, the prevailing idea that footwear needed to breathe to be effective. A successful test with Canadian soldiers in Newfoundland converted some skeptics, though doubts remained widespread. 

In 1945, Siple and Bazett submitted their layered design for patent approval in June 1945, rights they in turn transferred back to the Army. Siple was the first to propose merging these layers into the wall of a boot, but the idea was still far more of a dream than a finished product when the war ended. An unsatisfactory sample of this new boot was produced in 1946, leaving the project with an uncertain future. 

Enter Leslie H. L’Hollier, a development manager for Hood Rubber, later a division of tire manufacturer BFGoodrich. In 1946, the Army Air Corps asked Hood Rubber to develop a waterproof boot for aviators. Flight crews then used sheepskin-lined boots. As with infantry, the feet would sweat and then freeze, resulting in frostbite. 
The approach was essentially the same. L’Hollier took Siple and Bazett’s concept but allowed space for air in the insulation, a vapor barrier in other words. The result was dipped in latex on the inside and outside to produce a sealed boot. Samples were delivered, but no contract resulted. 

Then the Navy came around in 1949, also asking Hood Rubber to create waterproof boots for submarine crews. Specifically, the Navy desired footwear that could withstand wet conditions, dry quickly, and be worn again. Space is at a premium on submarines, where there is no room for a crew’s worth of extra boots. L’Hollier still had his samples, which were quickly approved and moved into production, with limited quantities delivered. 

Proven in Korea

These boots, the direct predecessor of the bunny boot, would yet have been the most minor of military history footnotes except for the outbreak of war in 1950 Korea. It was a proxy war for a peninsula, the Soviet Union and China against the United Nations, the latter with a military that was 90 percent American. It began as it ended, with a divided North and South Korea. In between, troops on all sides fought through harrowing, freezing conditions. Guns and mortars froze and locked. Some desperate soldiers without better options urinated on their weapons to warm them up. Medics warmed morphine syrettes in their mouths. 

Tens of thousands of American soldiers suffered non-combat injuries from the frigid weather. Shoes, nothing so simple or as complicated as a good shoe, remained an issue. Early into the conflict, the Navy asked L’Hollier to convert his insulated footwear into marching boots for the Marines. In 1951, the Army tested these boots in Canada, New Hampshire, and Alaska, where they once again passed with flying colors. Thousands of these boots were ordered, with the first shipments reaching Korea in December 1951. 

That winter, the number of cold-related foot injuries dropped precipitously compared to the prior winter. A 1953 Army medical study examined the issue and concluded that the boots were the primary cause. It stated, “If the new boot is relatively more protective against cold injury, then a reduction in incidence of the relatively more severe forms of cold injury of the feet should have been noted with increasing utilization of the boot. Figure 11 indicates such a trend.”

Mickey Mouse Boots vs. Bunny Boots

In official terms, these were Extreme Cold Vapor Barrier Boots. Working from the early ideas of Siple and Bazett, which were refined and improved by L’Hollier, the boots featured a thick swath of wool and felt insulation vacuum-sealed between layers of rubber. The vacuum layer reduces heat transfer in precisely the same way as a thermos or Stanley bottle, which are in turn technically described as vacuum flasks. In short, warm stuff like your feet stays warm longer than they otherwise would.

The first Extreme Cold Vapor Barrier Boots to reach the front, the Type I, were quickly nicknamed Mickey Mouse boots. Large and black, they reminded observers of the Disney mascot’s oversized feet. These were rated for 20 below weather, excellent if still not sufficient for some of the more extreme Korean battles, such as the 1950 Battle of Chosin Reservoir. 
The Type II Extreme Cold Vapor Barrier Boot was developed in response to experiences in Korea and demands from troops in Alaska, where soldiers frequently wore mukluks with their boots to survive the frosty winter nights. Type II’s included extra insulation and were white, a nod towards camouflage. It was heavier and rated to survive several hours at 60 below. Because it reminded soldiers of either snowshoe hares or Bugs Bunny, Type IIs became better known as bunny boots. 

Both the original Mickey Mouse and bunny boots feature laces and an air valve. Before flights, wearers had to open the valves to relieve the pressure. Otherwise, they might explode. From accounts in early 1950s newspapers, it is clear that civilians were less consistent in differentiating between the two models. For many outside the service, they were both bunny boots. Over the years, the differences became more well-known, and distinctions were more readily made. Less commonly, they were also referred to as Korean boots and VB boots.

From Army Surplus to Alaska Icon

Bunny boots were made for the military, the original intent at least. As they were surplussed and resold to the public, they soon became renowned pieces of outdoor kit. In the decades since the Korean War, in Alaska and other colder landscapes, among outdoorsmen and mountaineers and hunters, bunny boots quickly became a legendary item, one so common as to be expected in the average Alaskan home. They were beloved because they worked on the most basic principle: they kept the wearer warm no matter how hard they tried to force the issue.

The Army brought Ted Leonard to Alaska in the late 1960s. As he wrote in his 1994 memoir, Now We’re Having Fun!, “I did fall in love with the military bunny boots. They are a must in Alaska, and I have never been without a pair since. On occasion, I have cleverly managed to get into overflow and fill my boots with ice water. After traveling back to my cabin, I have pulled the bunny boots off my perfectly warm feet, and pour out steaming water . . . heated to body temperature.”

“I have pulled the bunny boots off my perfectly warm feet, and pour out steaming water . . . heated to body temperature.”  — Ted Leonard

The rise of bunny boots in the public can be tracked via Alaska classified listings. In the early and mid-1950s, bunny boots were regularly offered for as little as a dollar a pair, roughly twelve dollars in modern money after accounting for inflation. By the end of the decade, the going price had roughly tripled. They were popular but also common. Alaska, then and now, ranks high among states in per capita military personnel. In that way, there was also a higher-than-average per capita amount of surplus bunny boots in circulation. As bunny boots were durable, the supply was slow to erode from regular use. Yet, the prices continued to increase through new converts. 

By the early 1970s, they sold in the $15 to $50 range, roughly $100 to $300 in modern money. Then there was the oil pipeline boom. After long delays, construction on the Trans Alaska Pipeline began in early 1975. Money poured into, around, and back out of the state, gleefully collected by residents and a new horde of fortune hunters attracted by employment opportunities building the pipeline or in its economic wake. And these newcomers, in a desperate desire to fit in, surrounded themselves with the most culturally crucial aspects of Alaska life, bunny boots notably high among them. By the end of the decade, bunny boots sold for around $100, roughly $500 in modern money.

Bunny boots combined practicality with fashion. They were effective and signified insider status, even as the number of insiders ballooned. They had proved themselves in war, though moreover in Alaska, with every bit of cachet therein. Some stores displayed pairs that had been cut apart, the better to show the width of the insulation and the quality of the design. From the nineteenth century through today, the popular, outside understanding of Alaska is rife with notions of what life is like that far north. Some of these aspects are misunderstandings. Others are just legends. But some of them are also true. It is cold, and there are giant beasts, moose and bears, that roam the wilds between the tallest mountain peaks. Bunny boots earned their place within that mythos. 

Woven Into Alaska Culture

In 1988, the Cabin Fever Quilters Guild of Fairbanks finished a project five years in the making, a quilt containing the entirety of the city’s history. It consisted of thirty-two blocks, each dedicated to a crucial scene from local lore. The gold rush to the Trans Alaska Pipeline. Riverboats to airplanes. And one square depicted a couple standing at the corner of Second Avenue and Cushman Street, of course wearing bunny boots.

In the 1980s, humorist Tom Sadowski, with friends like Jimmie Froehlich and Jeff Brown, released an iconic postcard series, later collected in the 2003 book, On the Road to Tok. From the appearance of the sun terrorizing Southeast Alaska denizens to the relative scarcity of women, Sadowski adroitly mined northern culture for insightful jokes. And naturally, the ubiquitous bunny boot was included. From a 1985 example, Bunny Boot Ballet, he wrote, “Bunny boots aren’t just for keeping your feet from freezing. Ballet enthusiasts have known for years that these supple rubber togs make great warm-up shoes and excellent performance slippers.” 

Bunny Boot Ballet Source: Photo - Jimmie Froehlich, 1985/Distributed by Tom Sadowski Films

Stories From the Ice

There was the time Bob Kallstrom of Dillingham was riding a snowmachine with a friend. Kallstrom was wearing a popular commercial boot, lined on the inside with felt. The friend was wearing bunny boots. As they traveled, the ice beneath them broke, dunking them both into freezing water. By the time they were rescued, Kallstrom’s feet were in dire shape, and doctors eventually amputated the front halves off both feet. His friend had no such issues.

Kallstrom owned L&M Supplies in Dillingham and would go on to sell thousands of bunny boots, all with the fervency of a convert. In 1995, he told the Anchorage Daily News, “Unfortunately, I didn’t have the boots on when I needed them.”

Mountaineer Vern Tejas used bunny boots for his highest ascents, including his winter solo climb of Mt. McKinley/Denali in 1988. As he described them, the boots were the “greatest piece of defense” for one’s feet. While he acknowledged their grip was relatively subpar, their warmth could not be surpassed. As he put it, “They’re not good for climbing, but they’re a lot better than losing your toes.”

“They’re not good for climbing, but they’re a lot better than losing your toes.”  — Vern Tejas

While bunny boots were a cultural inevitability in Alaska, they were also enjoyed in all the coldest places around the globe. For example, they were required gear in Antarctica, though there was a notable distinction. Amid the tight-knit, small research communities, there were two classes: veterans and rookies. And new, unmarked pairs of bunny boots were one of the surest indicators. 

When David Loveall traveled to Antarctica in 1985 for All Hands magazine, he and everyone else aboard the plane from New Zealand to McMurdo Station donned bulky cold-weather pants and bunny boots. He wrote, “I remembered...some of the ‘ice veterans’ had told me that runway crews at McMurdo liked to watch the new guys—‘fingys’ as they called them—get off the plane and stare dumbly at the vastness and stark beauty of Antarctica. I was determined to look like a veteran when I got off the plane and began trying to scuff up my brand new, snow white bunny boots.”

Passing mentions and classified listings for bunny boots were inescapable in the newspapers and magazines of the northern states. Minnesota went a bit further, officially recommending their use, notably while they were only available as Army surplus. From the 1969 Minnesota Snowmobile Safety Manual, “Your feet are subject to the cold because they will be fairly inactive. Rubber-type insulated boots and ‘Bunny Boots’ are warm and suitable for most days.”

Of course, bunny boots remained indispensable for the military. The Arctic Rangers were a short-lived (1970-1972) special operations Army unit based at Fort Richardson in Alaska for the duration of their brief existence. Their focus was rescue operations and general Arctic reconnaissance. In March 1971, they participated in Ace Band Polar Cap, a simulated rescue mission on Arctic ice north of Point Barrow. Despite the fifty-below weather, the Rangers slept peacefully at night on the ice, clad as they were in triple-gloved mittens and bunny boots. Even the parachute jump had been easier than expected, in part due to those same boots. As Rangers’ commanding officer, Major George A. Ferguson Jr. noted, “The landing was really soft . . . Yes, the bunny boots are great to jump in. They’re rubber and really springy.”

Army Troops embark a C-130 Hercules aircraft during exercise Jack Frost ‘ 75 Source: National Archives Catalog

Counterfeits and the End of an Era

There were also imitations and outright counterfeits. Miner Industries, based in Rhode Island, briefly contracted with the Army to make them, but the company produced an inferior product, and its owner was jailed for fraud after his lies were uncovered. In the 1980s, a Korean company made a version of bunny boots that could be considered somewhere between an inferior product and outright fraud. The valve on the side was a fake, just glued on.

As the rise of the Soviet Union as a superpower influenced the creation of bunny boots, its demise signaled a downturn for the boots as well. The communist union dissolved in December 1991. Four years later, the U.S. Army announced its intention to retire the bunny boot, preferring a more commercial, cheaper option. Bunny boot production is relatively complicated. When the Maryland-based Bata shoe company won the contract to make bunny boots in 1972, it took them eight months to figure out the process. With the loss of Army demand, Bata could not maintain production costs for the smaller, public market.

Over more than two decades, Bata made more than two million pairs of bunny boots. Bata’s rubber division manager at the time, Ed Buser, doubted anyone would ever make another proper bunny boot. In 1995, he declared, “If anybody has any bunny boots, hang on to the damn things, because there ain’t no more coming out.” And for a long time, it seemed like he was right.

“If anybody has any bunny boots, hang on to the damn things, because there ain’t no more coming out.”  — Ed Buser, 1995

In 2020, longtime Alaskan outdoors columnist John Schandelmeier bemoaned the lack of a worthy bunny boot revival or successor. He noted, “I remember the first time I felt 60 below. Maclaren River, January 1971. You could pour an upside-down icicle. Hot water tossed in the air would not come down. My feet stayed warm in bunny boots.” His own, personally underwhelming solution was custom mukluks combined with an assortment of liners from different companies. 

The Bunny Boot Returns

Alaska Gear, formerly Airframes Alaska, is the inheritor of that history, first announcing their intent to manufacture bunny boots in late 2023. Test samples were distributed in early 2024. And the first commercial run reached stores late that year. 

Yet, these are not a one-to-one historical replicas and all the better for it. With a background in aviation engineering, Alaska Gear’s designers leveraged their experiences in precision production, cold weather proofing, and tire manufacturing to produce a bunny boot for the new millennium. Their trademarked Vapor Barrier X builds upon the rubber sealing of old. The insulation remains dry, no matter the snow, water, or sweat, and the feet stay warm.

CEO Sean McLaughlin declared, “We know rubber, and we know cold, and no one else was doing it. We wanted to understand every aspect of building the boot.” From testing to materials, from style to grip, these boots are both recognizable and an evolution. Vern Tejas certainly would have appreciated that improved grip on his ascents.

“We know rubber, and we know cold, and no one else was doing it.”  — Sean McLaughlin, CEO

Other shoes have colorful origins and surprising lineages. The modern high heel evolved from horseback riding shoes, to secure feet in stirrups. Adidas and Puma were once a united company until warring brothers split it apart. Nike shoes began with a waffle iron, thus their textured soles. But none of them survived wars and the Arctic, saved lives and became a cultural icon in the way of the bunny boot.

What's Next: Our Fall/Winter 2026 Footwear Lineup

We keep pushing our footwear forward, bringing the proven warmth of our VBX™ Vapor Barrier System into boots built for more of your day. Here's what's new this season:

Bunny Boot VBX Lite: The classic bunny boot warmth in a lighter, everyday design, available in a wide range of colorways.
Ankle Deck Boot VBX: A waterproof, fleece-lined ankle boot with a non-marking, grippy sole, rated to an average of -45°F. It goes from the dock to downtown.
VBX Neo: The newest member of the VBX family, bringing VBX performance to a fresh new design. Now with insulated VBX technology paired with waterproof neoprene to extend protection while staying agile. 
After-Activity Cabin Slipper: Made for warming up after the adventure, whether at camp, by the stove, or at the cabin.

From expeditions to everyday errands, our fall/winter 2026 lineup keeps your feet warm and dry all winter long. Shop the footwear collection.

Written by: David Reamer