Monthly Archives: April 2010

Freedom and Intention: A Bike And A Life Reacquainted

My son Alex is on the back of the Xtracycle espousing Dr. Seuss’s words: “I AM the LORAX! I SPEAK FOR THE TREES!”

The boys were upset to see some trash by the side of the road, so we circled back and did some service taking care of our Earth. And then Alex began to recite the words.

The things that come up because of the bike! More teachable great parenting moments are opening up all the time, more intimacy as a family.

All because of this bike.

Remarkable.


It is sleeting against the windows. Tomorrow is Bike to School day, and it is not looking promising for the good guys.

Perhaps I’ll doom my wee sons, ages six and nearly-four to a life of alpinism with this mountain town bike commuting. It’s COLD here at 6,150 feet above sea-level, at eight in the morning. It’s not uncommon for it to be below freezing heading into town, and sixty degrees in the afternoon of the same day is just as likely.

I bundle up the boys, fleece hoodies under down jackets. Just the ticket since the hoods fit neatly under their helmets and later the down jackets squish away into my town bag. Winter mittens and wool socks, also essential. And if I was a better mom, a thermos of hot cocoa wouldn’t go amiss. But I can barely get my own coffee before we head out the door. And enough calories for my effort!? Haven’t quite got that dialed yet to be sure…

I do feel excellent about what I’m modeling to and sharing with them. I am a fortunate woman. I came to own this fabulous machine by way of a dear friend that I’ve had for as long as the bike, Brad Werntz. (We worked together at Erehwon Mountain Outfitter, way back in the day…) On Facebook of all places, Brad offered to take my twenty-five year old mountain bike and give it new life. A sexy mom-mobile was promised, like the sort he’d built for his own wife Vera. This was to be my Diamond Back’s second incarnation – but its first life was also spectacular.

To me, this bike has always been a talisman of my freedom and intention. It was the first and last bike I ever put together all by myself. It was my only mode of transportation on campus while I was a student at UW Madison. And then when I threw down and bought a ticket west to the land of my dreams, the bike came to Jackson Hole, too. One taxi ride later I was putting it back together again in The Antler Motel room, to use it to find a job, a room to rent, and routes to climb.

That summer, most of my climbing trips in the Tetons began and ended with a bike ride. My first ascent of the Grand Teton was a solo of the Owen-Spalding route, which is one of the less-difficult routes. (Uniquely, all routes on the Grand are technical, requiring exposed, fifth-class climbing and often at least one rappel on descent.) In those days you had to sign out for a climb and then back in so the rangers would know you had safely returned. There was a short card you filled out to describe your car and license plate number.

The rangers took notice of a midwestern girl who stalled shyly with that card in hand, and then wrote: “Black mountain bike. Will leave locked to Lupine Meadows Trailhead sign.”

Two wheels and a steel frame broke the ice for me in Jackson Hole. Friends were made, advice was more freely given, and keen climbing partners introduced themselves.

Freedom and intention…

In recent days this machine is returned to me with a longer wheel base, saddle bags and a long seat on the back to fit even more children than I possess. This ride is pimped out with a set of red Down-Low Glow lights for full street effect, along with the ever-practical head and tail lights. This amazing bike turns heads everywhere we go. The guys in the local bike shop are completely smitten (with my bike), and the other parents stop us at soccer practice to ask about it.

For me, the best thing is getting to ride it to and from school with my sons each day. The intimacy was unexpected and is absolutely the thing I love best. The singing of songs, the tales of the day, the laughter, even – dare I say? – the horseplay.

The bike path into town from our house allows for four bridges and two tunnels. The boys make note, count them, sing. Riding next to Flat Creek Alex spots a duck with her ducklings in tow on the water. So excited to make this discovery, he and his younger brother Lucas are thoroughly engaged and can’t stop talking about what else they see. The birds are singing, water burbling.

I feel deeply pleased.

This morning, maybe they slipped some contraband sugar cereal when I wasn’t looking, though I will allow that six miles each way takes some patience when you’re not the one pushing the pedals. Some goofing around ensues, followed then by too much goofing around. I feel the bike lurch side-to-side with some corresponding giggles and helmets bonking together, then some whining.

No good.

And then it repeats again…

About the third time this happens I let my inner Marine voice (all mothers have one) let them know it’s ENOUGH! This is just as we come around a blind curve in the path next to the creek. I see a man out for a quiet morning walk. I’ve just scared the living daylights out of him: His eyes are huge and his face is whiter than it might usually be. At least he didn’t collapse right there, although it looked like he could go either way on that.

“So sorry, Sir…” I say as we wheel past.

After that, I figured out I could swat them and steer at the same time.

Here’s to freedom and intention, down coats, dear friends, and understanding strangers.

Life is big.

Mattie Sheafor lives in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, with her sons Alex and Lucas. Mattie has guided for Exum Mountain Guides, Chicks With Picks, and Chicks Rock. She was also the founder of Women That Rock, and an ongoing Mountain Athlete. For twenty years, Mattie was a buyer and manager at Teton Mountaineering. She is currently riding her bike down new pathways with freedom, and intention.

Got Rainfly?

Recently spotted at the bottom of the Grand Canyon

Get Kilt

You might’ve noticed: We had some fun with kilts, this past weekend. The details?: There were about 40 folks – mostly men but some women, too – wearing Mountain Hardwear Elkommando kilts at the Midwest Mountaineering Spring Outdoor Adventure Expo. It was the 50th consecutive Expo, so it was a good opportunity to do something wild, and fun.

A good time was had by all, and we sure got some notice. Customers asked what was up. The local news came down to do a story. People laughed, smiled, sang, and yodeled. We got some comments during the event, and most were positive. And some of the comments also made me think a bit:

  1. “Man, you’re going to have to sell a lot of kilts to make your money back on that promotion.”
  2. “How many kilts do you think you’ll sell by doing this?”
  3. “Do you think you’ll get any backlash from the staff for making them do this?”

So here’s the thing: It wasn’t about the kilts. This was about what was inside the kilts. (And by this I don’t mean what was underneath the kilts – so getchermindouttathegutter…) Rather, inside each and every kilt was a happy person wearing a big smile. These are people who voluntarily stepped out of their comfort-zones (no, we didn’t make them do this) and – lo and behold – it was fun.

Happiness, fun, and the smiles created from both are all perfectly transferable. The happy staffers who were having a good time engendered happy customers who also had a good time, in turn. Perhaps these customers bought more stuff – and we did sell a few kilts, too – but that’s not the point. The important thing was that a good time was had by all at the 50th Expo.

At Midwest Mountaineering.

In the store.

And people will remember this.

Was it all the kilts? No, of course not. But they sure didn’t hurt.

Don’t be afraid to Get Kilt.

(Metaphorically, of course…)

The Importance of the In-Store Brand Experience

Guest post by Eryn Willard, Design Sherpa at Studio 22

I was ready to replace my hand-me-down mountain bike two seasons ago. So as any other shopper about to make an expensive equipment purchase does, I began exploring brands to find the best fit for my taste, riding style and budget.

I explored several brands’ websites, poured through countless user reviews over several weeks, and paid more attention to the advertisements I saw for new models. Finally, a “winner” emerged and I was ready to make a purchase based on my interactions with the brand I identified with the most.

Off I went to my favorite bike store. When I asked the sales manager to talk to me about the brand and model I wanted, he waived his hand toward a rack of bikes and said he was the wrong person to ask about full-suspension models, that he “rides a hardtail”. There was no literature in the store about the brand I was looking for, even though they sell the line. No signage, nothing. My positive brand experience had ended when I walked through the shop doors.

I still got my bike – but it was from my new favorite shop across town. They had product literature, designated sections for each brand they stock, and were knowledgeable about the product I wanted. Brand experience restored.

. . . . . . . . . .

Before making a purchase buyers will encounter various touch points that begin building their experience with your brand, such as advertisements, company website and product catalog (or my preference: the magalog). Carefully crafted messages about your brand are served on a plate to customers in a controlled environment, where they can identify with and relate to the adventures of the lucky people in your marketing materials. Suggestions from friends, user reviews and social media will engage the shopper even further. The latter are especially prevalent in the outdoor industry, where products’ safety and performance are top priority – however, you have less control of these points.

A stellar user review and resonant product magalog may be enough to bring a shopper into their local retailer looking for your product. However, you need that last push to help customers part with their cash. With the economic squeeze, shoppers are even more likely to pass on an item if they can’t get all of the information they need to influence their buying decision in the final step. Everything surrounding your products at the retail level needs to reflect the brand’s values.

According to a recent survey, 69% of shoppers choose a brand based on their in-store experience and 7 out of 10 are influenced by aisle signage. Obviously, the more exposure a shopper has to your brand messages before and during the buying process, the more they will identify with your product.

Consider the following to heighten the in-store brand experience for shoppers:

  • Educate the retailer’s sales force about your brand’s attributes so that they can convey them to customers. Sales staff are crucial to the in-store experience.
  • Recognizable in-store brand cues – messaging and visuals from existing marketing – will lead buyers to your merchandise. You can manage the shopper’s experience when these cues are integrated into your retail strategy.
  • Signage or literature promoting a new product or features influence the buying decision. The in-store environment needs to pick up where pre-shopping marketing messages end.
  • Packaging (including hang-tags!) that communicates the benefits of the product help make the sale in the absence of a sales associate.

Sustainability is now also a part of customers’ decision-making and can be a tie-breaker when choosing between products. So if sustainability is baked into your brand, it should be a part of your in-store marketing. It will build brand strength and educate the buyer. In surveys conducted by Deloitte, labeling and in-store signage are the top two ways shoppers identify a product as green.

So much effort is put into developing your brand’s look and messaging to engage customers in the pre-buying stage. Why not maintain the continuum during the in-store experience and fully deliver the brand promise?

::..

Eryn Willard is the founder and design Sherpa of Studio 22 an award-winning graphic design firm that opened in Thurmont, MD in 2005. The studio works on projects ranging from small business brand identity to sustainability reports for outdoor, consumer goods and environmentally-focused brands. Being a hiker, snowboarder, mountain biker and runner with a newly-formed climbing habit, drives Eryn’s creative work for clients.

She’s got a healthy addiction to Twitter for business (@Studio_22) and pleasure (@MissusW) and has it to thank for many virtual friendships in #OIBIZ, including the one with Pemba Serves.

Eryn currently serves on the board of directors for the Outdoor Industries Women’s Coalition as Brand Manager.

::..

photo: AAD via stock.xchng

PEMBAgarten

Okay – yeah – we get wild hares sometimes that we just gotta chase. This is one of these. Bear with us…

It’s spring, when young lads and lasses fancies turn to…PLANTS? Yep, plants. We like plants and we bet you do, too. Our goal here is to get some plants in the ground where once there were none. So…

Introducing PEMBAgarten, our own little urban renewal project. Here’s how it works:

  1. Find a neglected spot of urban landscape.
  2. By whatever means available, by whatever methods necessary, beautify it with locally native plants. (For reference only, check this out…)
  3. Take before and after pics or create a project video and post them to our PEMBAgarten Flickr group.
  4. Geo-Tag your garden with FourSquare or Gowalla (or any other similar service) so we can share your work with the world – and maybe we’ll share the prize-love with folks who stop by.

On May 31st, we’ll take a look at the pictures you all have posted, and the BEST EXAMPLE (by our as-of-yet-undefined criteria) of urban beautification using native plants will be rewarded with a Mountain Hardwear Lightpath 3 Tent.

NOTE: We may decide to give away other prizes, too. (You never know; we’re random like that sometimes…)

So, grab your rakes and shovels, get some seeds and some plants, and get digging. Spring has sprung.

What are you waiting for?

Help Choose My New Co-worker!

Dig the ad placement

Guest Post: Through The Looking Glass – RockClimberGirl

Most of us here at PEMBA came into the Outdoor Industry through fairly traditional methods: We worked in outdoor stores somewhere and – somehow – we stepped through the looking glass and became reps. The story can’t get much simpler.

(Well, not Janice: She sold WINE and LIQUOR before joining us – which we find really, er, handy – but that’s another story.)

We’re always fascinated about the routes that people take to wind up in #OIBIZ. In our travels to shops and vendors in our industry, we’ve met doctors, lawyers, college professors, people with PhD’s who – for whatever reason, gawdhelpthemwhatweretheythinking? – decided to chuck it all and join us. Most recently, we’ve become friends with Sara Lingafelter (@theclimbergirl on Twitter), and this is her story.

::..

Four years ago, I was a newly minted attorney in private practice in a megafirm in Seattle.  I was also a newly minted rock climber, belay check card in hand.  When push came to shove, and the number of working weekends exceeded my number of climbing weekends, guess which won?

Yup, climbing.

I transitioned to a half time contract gig in public policy which kept me from having to suit up every day for court.  Not bad.  I had great coworkers, meaningful work, abundant time to train and climb, and to blog. But still, I felt there was more out there.

I had this strange feeling that I still wasn’t where I belonged. That there may be a workplace where I’d be able to talk about my weekend without people thinking I should be reported to some type of adult protective agency. That my interest in climbing and the outdoor industry, and my interest in social media and writing may intersect in some sort of dream gig, working with cool people, great gear, and playing outside.

Turns out, I was right.

I landed a dream job last fall with Waypoint Outdoor, a sales agency in the Pacific Northwest.  I work with smart, fun, competent people everyday at my office, at my brands, and in larger outdoor industry.  We’re all here in part because we see value in playing outside, and that’s pretty cool common ground.  Unlike in other industries I’ve been in, there’s a strong sense that we’re in this together – across brands, across agencies, across specialty segments, and across geography.

I’ve gone from suit and tie to jeans and flip flops in a matter of less than two years.  And, where some jobs are measured in terms of duration of tenure, sales support is measured in terms of miles.

I just clicked over my first 10,000 miles in the car on the road as a Field Service Representative.  That doesn’t count a handful of flights and train rides, but still – for a girl who grew up in a town approximately 2.5 miles across – that’s a whole lot of miles.  I’ve been all over my home state of Washington, driving roads that are brand new to me. When people ask me where I live, I answer: “The place I spend the most time is on I-5 between Seattle and Portland.”

My job is to drive retail sell-through by educating and building relationships with shop staff and end users, to build buzz about our brands and products, and to travel.

In other words, it’s a dream job.

I take alternative transportation whenever possible. Shared rides, carpools, and the train are all my first choice, since so much of my time driving a single occupant vehicle isn’t discretionary.  Now that I’m actually living in Seattle, I look forward to more public transportation, more bike time, more walks to the three key accounts that happen to lie within three miles of my office.

I’m also optimistic that living in Seattle, rather than commuting about 3 hours each way each day, will help me do what I always hoped working in the biz would allow me to: Play outside more.

Since starting my gig last November, I’ve been playing outside less. That’s to be expected with the adjustment to just about any new job, and it’s also a side effect of training very hard last year for some big outdoor projects.  Man, I needed some REST. But, despite the fact that every Friday (and/or every last day in the office before I hit the road) ends with my boss saying, “Have FUN!” I haven’t yet mastered the art of building play into my hectic work / travel / event schedule.

On the other hand, if the biggest problem I have is that I like my job too much to carve out time to play, then I really can’t complain.

One of the other tensions has been transitioning from industry outsider to working within the industry.  It actually took me awhile to find a point of entry into the industry, since I didn’t follow the traditional path of starting in retail.  It helped that I’m a rare combination of stubbornly scrappy, highly educated mid-career professional, and dirtbag – heavy on the stubborn, scrappy and dirtbag.  I was willing to take time to find the right gig, and to be persistent in my follow-up and relationship-building.  I also had a certain amount of credibility with potential employers because of my work history and background, but I had not become accustomed to a nice, comfortable lifestyle.  A lot of folks wouldn’t have been able to make the choice I did because of the financial risk, but being a climber gives me a certain tolerance for both risk and discomfort, so here I sit.

Still, I underestimated the magnitude of the change, in terms of the way others would perceive and interact with me.  While I experience an intense level of respect among people I work with who actually KNOW me, there are times that my job means having fun and playing for a living.  The biggest surprise of my transition may be just how hard the WORK is, when it looks to the average bystander like a whole lot of play.

Unlike in my dry-clean-only days where people made certain assumptions about my smarts and savvy based on my suits, now people make certain assumptions about my smarts and savvy based on my “rookie” status, my big smile and my fun-o-meter generally being set to 11.  I usually don’t mind.  But, every once in awhile, something serves as a reminder that every single person deserves to be treated with respect and professionalism.

Above all, and despite any occasional hiccups, I’m just excited to have a seat at the table.  I really love what I do, and I love the industry I’ve landed in. Every day I appreciate the chance to learn this biz from the best, both here at Waypoint and in my extended #OIBIZ family.

I’ll never forget last July – before this job – when I was still a government contractor.  I packed up my Jetta for a road trip and plotted a course through Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Park and into Salt Lake City for my first Outdoor Retailer show.  My grocery budget filled my car’s gas tank for the trip down and back.  My newly minted media badge for rockclimbergirl.com got me in the door at the show, and – thanks to Twitter and good old
fashioned relationship building – I had many friends already inside.

On the show floor for the first time, I looked around with wonder and awe.  As my eyes focused, and adapted to the onslaught of lights and displays and the magnitude of the place, I looked around at the people on the floor of the show.  I noticed, right away, that all around me people were walking up to each other in the aisles and hugging in greeting, full of warmth and familiarity.

I’m a pretty rare and extreme exception to the “lawyers don’t hug” rule.  I thought, then and there: “Holy cow, I’ve found my place.”

Now that I’m actually in the outdoor industry, I’m even more sure.  And more grateful than you can ever imagine.

::..

Getting to Know Sara…

Sara Lingafelter is a climber, writer, and Field Service Representative based in the Pacific Northwest with Waypoint Outdoor. In addition to blogging about the climbing life at RockClimberGirl.com, Sara is one of the unofficial #climb community den mothers on Twitter, where she met and grew fond of Pemba Serves and the people involved. In her free time, Sara climbs as often as possible at home crags between Squamish, BC and Smith Rock, OR, and is a prolific writer who generally lacks the patience necessary for the print cycle. Little Known Fact: In high school, Sara was Alice’s understudy in a production of Alice in Wonderland. So there ya go…

Steven Seagal – Please Grow Your Ponytail Back

PETZL Elia ad appearing in Climbing Magazine, Rock & Ice, Urban Climber and Gripped