You know that awful feeling when you walk into a social gathering and discover that everyone knows everyone else—really well—but no one knows you? Worse yet, no one appears to be even remotely interested in knowing you. You're an outsider, and until someone makes the move to welcome you into the group,
you're stuck on the periphery: literally on the outside looking in. Not a very pleasant place to be, to be sure.
While I'm confident that most of us can remember experiencing this feeling at least once in our lives, I have a sneaking suspicion that we forget to put that experience to work for us as we move through our business lives. I think that once we finally find a way into the comfort of the inner circle, we set up camp there, and our perspective changes. But, that can be dangerous, because it often leads to exclusionary rather than inclusionary thinking. And if that isn't the anathema of successful business practice, I don't know what is.
Making a living as an outdoor specialty retailer these days presents some very special problems. Competition is much different now. It's no longer simply a matter of competing on equal ground with other outdoor specialty retailers; now, everyone is in on the action. Larger sporting goods chains have tapped into the outdoors in a big way—many of them doing a pretty good job, too. Catalog companies abound with great product, fine customer service and competitive prices. Internet retailing is making inroads to anyone with a computer, a modem and an interest in the outdoor lifestyle. On top of this, the participant demographic profile is changing. The outdoors is no longer a place frequented only by dedicated, hard-core climbers, campers, packers and paddlers. Now, millions of Americans of all ages and physical abilities embrace the outdoor experience as their lifestyle.
As a result, the traditional, pure—some would say, elite—outdoor backpacking store now finds itself in the precarious position of trying to stay true to its roots, without cutting its business throat in the process. How does a retailer know what to do? I think the answer lies in part in always remembering what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. Too often, specialty shops of all kinds fall into the trap of narrow, inner-circle thinking. In the process, they miss a lot of what's changing around them and, consequently, deny themselves the opportunity to integrate those changes into their businesses. What's the old saying? Adapt or die? The question is, though, how far do you adapt before you begin to change the very soul of your business?
I don't presume to think I have the answer to this complex issue in these few, brief paragraphs, but I will venture to state that it is the single most significant challenge facing traditional outdoor retailers today. The successful retailers of tomorrow will be those who remember what it feels like to be on the outside looking in, and actively embrace the general consuming public as viable customers and genuinely welcome them into the fold as legitimate outdoor enthusiasts.
The growing majority of active people today may not participate in traditional outdoor activities like climbing, backpacking or kayaking, but they do embrace the outdoor lifestyle. They may never be in the market for technical gear, but they do see themselves as outdoor participants—as birders, wildlife photographers, adventure travelers and citizens of the world.
They have to buy their durable, comfortable, stylish apparel, footwear, hats, binoculars, and polarized sunglasses somewhere; don't make them go to the catalogers, department stores, travel shops and general sporting goods stores. Let them know that they belong in your store, that you recognize them as legitimate outdoor participants. Make them shop with you. Actively show them through your local radio, cable television and print advertising that you have what they need for their adventures—even if it's a walking trip through the vineyards of Italy or a driving trip through the Smoky Mountains. It may not be your idea of real outdoor adventure, but it's theirs and, that, in the long run, is the only thing that really counts.