The big idea: use unspent 2020/21 trade show dollars to support outdoor journalism

Money-Transfer-Methods-cover-image-moving-money-1280x640.jpg

In this year of weirdness, of dead events and booming newbie sales, of digital pivots and real world layoffs, here's an idea that’s worth latching onto.

Take that unspent trade show budget for 2020/21 and spend it … or at least a big chunk of it … on directly supporting the editorial magazines that are quietly holding the outdoor industry together.

In the last six months, while the outdoor world and other industries have ridden a real world rollercoaster of success and failure, pivoting and reinventing and burning things down just to start over, editorial media has been our constant. They’ve stayed true to their original goals of community, education, inspiration and context — and in fact, they’ve doubled down on them. They’ve published more stories, more ideas and more thoughts. And by doing so, they have built the framework, walls and ceiling of previously delivered by the best parts of a year-round big tent trade show. Even in the strangest of summers, our vertical publications have given the outdoor industry a strong and vibrant core identity, which is incredibly helpful to all outdoor industry businesses as without it we are just running on the fumes of old relationships.

Behind the brand curtain, the trade show line item is often a funny thing, in that it frequently isn’t even a thing. Trade shows are sometimes part of a company's sales budget. Other times, they’re part of the marketing budget. And in a bunch of other instances, the funds that pay for show exhibition and attendance is spread across multiple buckets. That varied approach is an accurate reflection of the varied perceptions of what a healthy, thriving and well attended trade show actually delivers. It’s not just about writing orders, nor is it just about branding and market positioning in front of influencers and athletes and media — often, as proven by the dispersion of trade show dollars within a company, the value of a gathering is its ability to provide a bunch of different things, such as industry perspective and activity-based community. These are the benefits that come from getting out of the office and immersing yourself in the people, places and actions that define your customer’s world. And we’re all missing them.

The idea of repurposing unspent trade show dollars from 2021 and putting them toward supporting editorial outlets isn’t about sinking cash into transactional digital content. It’s about supporting aspirational journalism — big stories and cool ideas — that come most frequently from independent small publishers. Here are a few thoughts:

* EDUCATION & COMMUNITY — for both consumers and members of the outdoor industry, editorial publications are the unquestioned leader in identifying emerging trends and rallying around important causes. They build communities of readers, as well as communities of advertisers. They also build community among your staff, giving them editorially unbiased outdoorsy things to inspire them at their desk as well as to share around the Slack watercolor (your employees … I hate to break it to you … are not sharing links to company hosted HR seminars at nearly the same pace).

* BRAND LOYALTY — The biggest poison pill for brands right now is the fear of an inexorable descent into commoditization: i.e, becoming just another backpack, or just another pocket knife. After “pivoting” for the last two quarters into the blood red ocean of oversaturated digital buys, that slippery slope is greasier and more real than ever. One proven defense against that slide is a brand’s alignment with something bigger, something natural, something authentic. And there is nothing more authentic than the editorial magazines that are, and remain, the backbone of the outdoor industry.

* SALES — When the reality of pandemic economics landed on us last summer, and reports of a mini-boom began in boats and bikes and rods and reels and other things outdoorsy  … did you ever ask yourself ‘why outdoor gear?’  How did people know to hone in on the outdoor world? How did they decide to turn to the equipment and apparel that delivered them the myriad benefits of a day outside? It wasn’t because of a trade show, it was because of decades of inspirational work from consumer-friendly editorial publications. If you still have a job in the outdoor industry right now, it’s time to thank them. And if you want the outdoor industry to thrive in 2021 and beyond, it’s worth investing in them.

— DS

Black Lives Matter

C7CC7DB0-405D-4236-B126-E56C6035A6A6.JPG

Like most, I am deeply troubled by both historic and recent violent injustices within a tilted system, leaders who choose to divide rather than unify, and the thick blanket of uncertainty and inconsistency that surrounds us all. It’s been a tough few weeks, a hard few months and, honestly, an exhausting three years. 

Yet throughout all those challenges, nobody has denied my ability to do anything -- to live, to work, to play, to breathe -- because of the color of my skin.

Pale Morning Media came to life in October, 2001, during a few pre-dawn moments in which -- despite its own dark season of tragedy, violence and uncertainty -- everything somehow seemed possible. No peak was too high. No distance was too great. No obstacle, even launching a business during what surely was the worst of times, was too challenging.

Thinking back, it’s clear that in that early morning glow, there were other outdoor truisms that should have been included: that all are equal, all are welcome, and all should have the opportunity of experiencing the joys and benefits of an unbiased natural world.

At Pale Morning Media, we believe Black Lives Matter, we support the essential human right to gather and speak, and we are thankful for the conscientious protesters who are encouraging us all to live up to our values. We are also aware of our own need for positive change, particularly in how we relate personally and professionally to Black, Indigenous, People of Color and other marginalized identities, and we are looking with a new lens on what we used to think was normal.

Our exact plans for long-term, positive change are certainly not complete nor perfect, as we are still learning. However, we want there to be no mistaking the intent of our quiet deliberation on this topic. With our choice of words and actions, we either make space or we fill space.

Our initial approach includes three levels;

  • First, we are evaluating changes to our core business goals, our day-to-day practices, our input points for strategy development, our annual charitable giving schedule, our community volunteer commitments and our most fundamental efforts to educate ourselves. 

  • Second, we are acknowledging that real progress starts at the most basic level -- at home, with friends and co-workers, and within small groups. 

  • Third, we are looking at ways to provide value during the November election cycle, both directly and indirectly, to support anti-racist candidates and initiatives, and to defeat those who openly encourage or enable racist policies.

It’s a massive understatement to say that I feel incredibly lucky to have had the ability to pause, to breathe, and to reflect on these topics over the last month. Clearly, not everybody has this luxury, though for those who do, it makes their eventual choices all the more important. 

Thank you, as always, for your time.

- Drew Simmons, President, Pale Morning Media

'It was a beautiful day' -- remembering the 1999 tornado at Outdoor Retailer

The Salt Lake City tornado of 1999 was a formative moment for me, and many others, both personally and professionally. It was also a bonding moment, a tragedy that took lives, and a span of a few days that led to a trade event like no other. Ahead of this June’s Outdoor Retailer, Doug Schnitzspahn was kind enough to let me to share a few words on the Tornado of 1999 for the show daily. As the 20th anniversary of the event was this weekend (8/11/19), a few other thoughts came to mind.

torn.jpg

It was the noon hour. I was at lunch at Squatters , just a couple wide-street blocks from the tornado’s path of destruction. We’d paid the tab and were planning to hustle back to the show floor, but the black, saturated clouds of what seemed like a “typical” afternoon thundershower pinned us down under a few awnings just outside the door. We were laughing and joking as the blue sky day flexed with some phantom gusts and sheets of sideways rain. It was over fast. Maybe five minutes top. Barely enough to take cover and delay walking back, and honestly I didn’t think much more about it as the storm clouds cleared as quickly as they had formed.

As I started crossing the road to walk back, however, I almost stepped in front of a car— was I distracted? Was it that beer at lunch? I was relieved to look up and see that the stoplights were out. No wonder I almost got hit. I headed north past the Peery and noticed that, actually, the power was down in the whole block. Odd, but not that odd. 

torn2.jpg

I’m not sure I noticed the first police car at all. It came from the south and passed me at speed. I’m not sure I noticed the second one either. But I’m pretty sure I noticed the third, and definitely the fourth and then the fire trucks and ambulances. They were all heading the same way I was heading. Something very, very bad had happened. I know it was 20 years ago, but I remember the thought that struck me first as I did the math on the fleet of emergency vehicles heading past me. It had nothing to do with a tornado or random act of weather — it was, instead, the recent memories (April 1999) of the Columbine High School tragedy that jumped to mind. It still sticks with me.

It was only as I got to the main flank of the Salt Palace, just outside the side doors, when I first heard the word tornado. Some people were running away from the area, some were running toward it. And as I came around the corner to see the full scene of destruction, I also saw some who were simply standing still or sitting on the grass, dazed and bleeding.

I turned west toward the Pavilions and the show entrance, and my foot was suddenly in sharp pain. I looked down to see a couple of toes bleeding onto my flipflop. I had accidentally stepped on some glass. I thought it was a broken bottle or something, but, as I took in the scene, I saw that the entire road and sidewalk were covered in a blanket of glass. Every car on the street was windowless. The windows on the nearby hotel were gone. And the sun was out.  It was a beautiful day.

The post-show “Crisis PR Report”

The post-show “Crisis PR Report”

The impromptu meeting at the trade show office was uprecedented. This was not covered in the pre-show planning calls. And for the moment there were only things to react to.  Questions but no answers. Situations with no plans. Like this one:  “We need a few volunteers to sweep the show floor." 

Because of a gas leak in the Convention Center, and because storm clouds filled with lightning were possibly circling back, the Convention Center needed to be 100% empty. A few of us ran out onto the floor, taking different paths through the set-up day chaos that is the hallmark of any Outdoor Retailer show, a day typically known for the incredible bustle of booth building and pre-show sales meetings and a seeming world record number of forklifts.  But on this day … tornado day … it was different. All the things were there, all the props, all the laptops and coffee mugs and notebooks and boxes and crates, but it was empty of people. Like they’d been plucked away in mid-conversation, whisked to someplace safe and dry and definitely not here. 

I think all of us started the sweep the same way, running and yelling and trying to find anyone, someone who was still inside and had no idea about the storm. And then  the yells were less frequent, the run became a jog, and the realization sunk in that we were the only ones in the building, the only ones still there, the only ones still in danger, and it was time to get out.

I made my way up the powerless escalator stairs two at a time, maybe three, and as I crossed the empty plaza toward the doors, the familiar face of co-worker walked into the empty lobby, looked around at the incredible emptiness of a place designed to hold thousands, and made eye contact with me.  As I got closer, she started to sob.

###

News coverage of 1999 Salt Lake Tornado

Washington Post (1999) … LINK

Bangor Daily News (1999) … LINK

Associated Press (1999) … LINK

Deseret News (1999) … LINK

Las Vegas Sun (1999) … LINK

Ski (1999) … LINK

Mountain Zone (1999) … LINK