ain't too proud to beg

Never one to be known for keeping my feelings bottled up inside, I'm going to stay true to my reputation and peel back another layer here in my column this month. Without beating around the bush too much, what I have to say is this: I just can't figure out what it takes to get everyone in this wonderful outdoor industry of ours to step up and practice what they preach about developing new outdoor users and ensuring a future generation of environmentally conscious and enthusiastic outdoor recreationists. I know this sounds harsh and probably has more than a few of you irritated with me already. "Well, doesn't she think a lot of herself!" I'm sure someone out there is saying right now. But, I just don't know how else to say what's weighing so heavy on my mind.

The one thing that has always struck me as so wonderful about our industry is the passion and commitment that everyone has for the path he or she has chosen to follow in life. Over the past 16 years, I've met many wonderful people who have moved me with the sheer generosity of their time, spirit and vocal support for the outdoor lifestyle. But I find myself constantly amazed by how few of them are willing to also lend quantifiable, financial support to ensure that this lifestyle remains a viable option for themselves and others.

Of course, many of us are struggling on a day-to-day basis to keep our businesses viable. I'd be a fool to not recognize and empathize with that truth. And there are, of course, many businesses that do, indeed, participate in and contribute to grassroots environmental action programs. To those enlightened folks, we all owe a debt of gratitude for helping set the bar for our industry's social conscience.

The problem is, though, the acts of a few simply aren't enough to carry our industry as a whole successfully into the future. Where is our next generation of outdoor users going to come from? This is a topic that I hear repeatedly discussed—and lamented—at trade shows, seminars, ORCA meetings, and in the pages of almost every industry newsletter published. We all have great ideas and enough passion to power a space shuttle, but when it comes to digging deep into our pockets to help make those ideas come to life, most of us fall awkwardly silent and immobile.

So, in case you haven't yet figured out where I'm going with all this, here it is: The special Seeding the Future fund-raiser breakfast, scheduled for opening day of Summer Market, still has a ways to go before we make our goal of $50,000 on behalf of four very deserving, non-profit, youth outdoor education programs.

While CG Public Relations, Leki USA, W.L. Gore and Solar Comfort have joined Lowa and Outdoor Retailer as sponsors, and others have purchased full tables ($900) and individual seats ($100) at the breakfast, we are still less than halfway to our goal.

I know that not everyone can find $2,500 or $5,000 in their budgets for sponsorships (I'm pushy but I'm not insensitive), but I can't imagine there's one person in this industry who isn't able to see his or her way clear to part with $100 for a seat at this event where well-known author Gary Ferguson will present the keynote address.

Let's join our forces and pool our resources to make this worthy fund-raiser a success. Groups like Yosemite Mountain Institute, Sierra Club Inner City Outings, Big City Mountaineers and Outward Bound Adventures are only able to introduce kids to the life-altering experience of the outdoors if people like you and me make a commitment to help. We keep asking ourselves where our next generation of users is going to come from....well, we don't have to look much past our own pockets to find out.

To buy your seat, please use the card on page 27 in this magazine. To sign on as a sponsor, please give Dieter Tremp a call at 949/376-6276.



ing to get your bearings. Feed the cat, dog, kids, fish or whatever other life form shares your living space. Find something to wear. Put it on. Leave the house. Wish you didn't have to. Get to work. Start whacking moles.

If you're under 40 years old, you may never have tried your luck at Whack-a-Mole, an old carnival arcade game, in which, for 25 cents, you get a plastic club and 60 seconds to try to whack the hell out of as many spring-loaded moles that pop up through the holes in front of you. (If you're a little longer in the tooth, you know first-hand what I'm talking about.)

Why is it that, in spite of our good intentions, we all seem to eventually fall into the trap of simply whacking moles all day? You know, those pesky, seemingly endless little problems, issues, challenges and must-dos that continually pop up and consume our time, energy and creativity every day at work.

To be honest, I wish I could take credit for this astutely humorous analogy, but I can't. (There were witnesses at the conference where I heard it, which means I couldn't get away with it with my reputation intact.) In good conscience, I must pass the credit to Thornton May.

I had the great pleasure and good fortune to be along on a wildly unpredictable roller-coaster ride—Mr. May's keynote speech—at last month's ORCA Rendezvous in Scottsdale, Ariz.

May, an exceedingly erudite raconteur, who also just so happens to be one of the world's leading corporate futurists, kicked off this year's Rendezvous with an insightful—if not occasionally bizarre—90-minute presentation on the dilemma of being human in the digital age, and how the outdoors may well be the one true panacea. May's premise is that we humans are "temporally screwed," living in a perpetual time crisis, "with no time for reflection."

While the advent of technology has brought so much power to our lives, it has also brought with it a feeling of powerlessness. We're constantly feeling that we're not living up to our potential; not making the most of what is available to build our businesses. Daily, we're being pushed to digest more information, forge new alliances, get bigger, better, faster than the day before. The fact is, posits May, "people need a place to be people," and that's where the outdoors comes in.

Who better to deliver the remedy, he says, than the outdoor business community. The trouble is, though, even though we make our living off of the outdoor experience, we're running around whacking moles all day just like everyone else. Too many of us have become so entrenched in the business of running our businesses that our businesses are now running us.

So, what the heck kind of marketing message are we sending to all of those digital-weary, potential outdoor consumers looking for sanctuary from their time-crunched lives? Are we forgetting to entice them with the simple promise that the outdoors will enhance their lives? That it will give them time to stop and just be human?

I think we've been doing just that. So much of the advertising on television and in print these days focuses on either surviving the outdoors or performing perilous feats of bravado. What about if—in addition to our standard marketing to the core outdoor user—we also reach out to the greater public with the message that the outdoors will just plain make them feel good.

One of the best examples of this type of marketing campaign that I can remember pegged Jamaica as "the antidote to civilization." I loved that message. I believed that they knew