John Bresee

Here’s a video about how we used to market at Backcountry.com circa 2007.  It’s kind of a B- performance. Sorry. There is some good data in here though:

This is a link that may or may not work to a speech to a BYU entrepreneurship class circa 2007.

Popularity: unranked [?]

Ten years late mCommerce has arrived. Due to our convoluted quilt of 12 wireless technologies like the laughably bad TDMA (AT&Ts previous technology that could manage only eight calls per cell) we find ourselves arriving a decead after iMode revolutionized Japanese pop culture.

Apple’s iPhone strategy has been the most beautiful business ramp in the history of technology. The OS is, despite some minor flaws, excellent. A year ago it became the one material possession I would save with me if there was a fire (pardon the duh factor of grabbing a phone). In the past my laptop was my most vital possession and yet quickly my iPhone has supplanted. Yet convergence is just as far in the distance as it ever was. I use my laptop just as many hours a day…it’s just the the iPhone has eaten up all the space that comes between. Even a pause in conversation is enough to have me idly unlocking the phone, considering a spin through the app store.  Divergence is alive and well as it always has been.

Much of the business world is still grappling with what kind of opportunity the iPhone really represents. Often the thinking goes that mCommerce should be like the Tommy Hilfiger web model. I believe that is the wrong tack, taking traditional eCommerce and just shrinking it to a smaller form factor.

What needs to exist is the notion mobile is leading us to a new model for computing that I’ll call for the moment, Better than Web.

Better Than Web is, well, just like it sounds. eTailing always runs a few years behind the content revolution and generally  also just doesn’t do things as beautifully. There isn’t an ecommerce site in the world that has anything like Facebook’s beautiful UI and phenomenally layered business logic. I dream of an eTailer that hits even 70 percent of the Facebook mark.

And in the world of Apps the gap between the A players and the eTailers is larger. I have yet to se

e an etail example using GPS, shared browsing, haptic interface, audio, accelerometer and more. With GPS, turn by turn navigation and some simple work Walmart could have every one of their store’s guide you through a real map your current stadium like store. Add a list function and it could walk you to each product you need while offering you coupons on nearby or similar items. Average cart could climb and time in store could go down. Need a clerk. Hit the big panic button and scan the bar code and have an instant call back…from the call center in Mumbai.

And for us rare pureplays the world just gets rosier. Show only reviews from my state, current location, in the last fifteen minutes, from my friends, etc. No longer need a person in Naples Florida be greeted by puffy down coats on the homepage. We could actually personalize. If it’s a ski site like ours and we’re able to track vertical skied in one day then we would know much better what skis to recommend.

Simply put, in eTailing your retail App better not be a slimmed down dimmer retail store with itty pictures that works in conjunction with your web site. It instead needs to be the next generation or etailing offer much much more. The move to dynamic localized and personalized content just moved up a few years. Ebay is averaging $89.95 per download in revenue and we haven’t even hit the holidays. Mobile is the future of etailing, duh. And Better Than Web is the future of mobile.

Popularity: unranked [?]

The first rigid frame tent Dad bought was a tan three-man from LL Bean back when they were the cool gear company. Dad was in awe of its ability to hold itself up just by flexing a few aluminum poles. When the coastal winds of Maine ripped the tent off the beach and flung it skating across the ocean surface Dad just said, “wow, look at it float, look at the way it holds its form.” He watched until it sailed out of sight.

Last night I spent eight hours gear testing a Tent Cot—the unholy mating of a hunting cot and a boy scout tent—and thinking semi-deep thoughts about tent design and tent life. Any time I was tempted to stray to a different topic another drop of water would form on the nylon ceiling above my forehead and, water torture style, get me back on track.

I remember the Bedouin-style tents Dad would erect every summer on the coast of Maine. The gargantuan center pole was as heavy as an I-beam, surrounded by four stout pig iron poles at each corner. The trick was to rig a series of high-tension guy lines all around the tent—and in the full dark of the first night Dad would swear a blue streak as he rigged these origami like structures. The lines functioned like crafty trip-wires and at least once every trip I’d bring the homestead tumbling down when I face-planted over a line. Our clan of seven lived in these circus domes for three weeks every summer. Dad called it vacation.

The best-designed tent I ever spent the night in was on a bitterly cold -26º Vermont night, with winds peaking at over 50 mph. We were students of Sterling College on a four day winter hike and the only tent materials we were allowed were two sheets of cheap plastic and some rope. My hiking partner Steve Bastress channeled MacGyver as he bent a 12-foot sapling over, sheared off two downward facing limbs, and made stakes out of them. Then, using 18 inches of line, he staked the tip of the tree to the ground, forming an arch. Over the top of the arch he strung one plastic sheet. The limbs of the tree splayed naturally to form the perfect frame of a dome tent. All night long we heard our teammates’ two-stick-poles-and-a-plastic-sheet tents whipping about and collapsing.

In the morning the instructors seemed to feel we’d bent the old “leave only footprints, take only artifacts” commandment when we hacked into the virgin sapling. Apparently it was okay for them to teach us Swedish limbing techniques in class, but it was not so kosher to practice it in the field. These outdoor instructors, so fussy.

Last night I lay in the badly leaking Tent Cot and looked enviously out on The North Face Vector that I had foolishly loaned to a friend. Throughout the pounding hail and rainstorm I watched my loaner tent sit unperturbed. In the flash of lightning I could see the Unobtanium poles–as light as a muon–hold the shape of the tent just so and send the water packing.

In the morning I was wet in that eight-hours-in-a-completely-soaked-sleeping-bag kind of a way. My buddy hanging in my TNF continued to saw logs as I glared in his direction. To fail at Warm and Dry 101 is a quick Darwinian slap, a reminder that in many ways we are lamer than those who came before us. Dad would have rigged up some line and oil skin to keep himself dry. Steve Bastress would have built a log cabin. Me? I’ll be getting my Vector back.

Popularity: unranked [?]

Let’s be honest, no gear will ever equal the pure excitement of a new pair of 1. Keds. That one week when your new sneaks could actually make you jump higher and run faster was the best week of the year. The feeling of added power and performance became my desire—whether the improvement was real or not. I remember running down the sidewalk outside the shoe store and leaping with every ounce of spring I had to try to tag the low hanging signs. Smacking just one finger on the No Parking sign was scientific evidence of the higher jumpability of new Keds.

Twenty-eight years later I’m still making my gear purchases with the hope that they will give me that same thrill. Here are the ones that did:

2. Motobecane Nomad Sprint 10 Speed—Mountain bikes didn’t exist when I was a kid. Everything was a 10 speed…except for my bike. I was riding a three speed Schwinn that might as well have had a flowered basket on the handlebar. My parents never understood that one lame Wicked Witch of the West-style bike could ruin a kid for years. So when that Motobecane was sitting underneath the tree one Christmas, all sleek grey and red pinstriped, I knew my ship had come in.

3. Teva Sandals—That first leap off an improbably high cliff into deep green water was the first sign I was onto something cool. My feet spanked water with a sound like a dominatrix at a Weight Watchers convention. But the souls of my feet were blissfully pain free. I wore that first pair of sandals every moment I was awake until they fell from my feet in worn rubber shreds.

4. Webbing for my first harness—The first time I tied the narrow blue webbing into a climbing harness was a victory like no other. I think it was about three hours and 30 false starts before I got something that my instructor would allow me to risk my life on. Still, I loved the way that webbing looked coiled purposefully in the bottom of my backpack, as if it were saying, “Yeah, I could climb El Cap, I just choose not to…”

5. Patagonia Fleece Sweatshirt—What happened to that heavy thick fleece they used to make? My favorite hung on me like the pelt of a synthetic bear. It’s been with me on almost every hike, every peak that mattered to me, descents, insane powder days, one horrendously bloody car crash and been “borrowed” by two errant girlfriends.

6. Ortovox Dual Frequency Avalanche Beacon—It remains the coolest piece of gear I have ever owned despite its early design flaws. With the Ortovox strapped on, I stopped being a wayward college student avoiding a first job and instead became a backcountry skier.

7. Dynastar 4X4 Big—These skis were a true testament to the power of gear. They added an easy 20% on the top end and made me feel like a god on snow. Ullr, watch out. I regretted selling them the moment the deal closed and I’m still looking for the skis that can replace them.

8. The North Face Mountain Bibs—I was too poor to afford decent outerwear; dishwashing at Snowbird isn’t the bling job that it appears. My sympathetic brother kicked down the crazy $300 to get me the bibs. Forty bucks to hem them for my stumpy legs, and 12 years later they still make the scene each winter. Every time I pull them on I hear Mike Hattrup laughing as he says, “going lobstering?”

9. Kelty External Frame Backpack, Red—I mean bright red like a cherry. I was 13 years old heading out for five days on The Long Trail North when I first overloaded my Kelty. A big block of Cabot cheddar cheese is heavy, it turns out. But the Kelty hung tough. By the end of every day it was like a mill stone strapped on my back, crippling me. But every morning it packed up beautifully. I would hike it onto my back, cinch the waist belt down and feel tight. Canteens jangled off the outside like a one man band; where I hiked wilderness would cede into the background, animals fleeing for their lives. But when I got the groove going with that big pack everything was just alright.

10. Sea and Ski sun lotion—Slapping on the thick goozle with that sweet coconut smell remains the sign that something good is about to happen. You don’t often put on sun lotion to clean the house or scrub pots. Pretty much it means you are heading to the hills or the ocean, and those remain the places where life actually happens.

Popularity: 3% [?]

BackcountryStore.com Gets No Love

LoveSac wins Ernst & Young Entreupreneur of the Year Awards

HEBER CITY, Utah (Draft) – In a lopsided victory LoveSac beat the stuffing out of BackcountryStore.com to become the 2003 Entreupreneur’s of the year. When asked for his reaction BackcountryStore.com CEO Jim Holland said, “Dang.” Co-founder John Bresee’s reaction was “Once again we’re standing in the shadow of Love.”

The upside was that the BackcountryStore.com execs finally had a reason to have a dress code, even if it was just for an evening. They knew the awards ceremony would be a glitzy affair, broadcast to a live audience of 1,200 on abig-screen televisions and attended by the governor–the pair decided that the GORP-centric attire they sell on-line wouldn’t be appropriate apparel in which to accept their award (bahahaha-jokes on them…there’s no award for second place). Bresee and Holland donned formal garb and neck ties for the first time in the companies history. BackcountryStore.com employee number two, Bob Merrill, quickly labeled them as “sellouts” and “corporate suck ups”.

However, when the winners of the respected awards were announced, and LoveSac, a Salt Lake-based manufacturer of beanbag like furniture, was named the winner in the emerging category, the web-based purveyors of high-end outdoor equipment knew they had underestimated their competition. “We got beaned by LoveSac” said a dejected Bresee. LoveSac has been a corporate rocket ship, achieving $5 million in annual sale in only two years of business and signing up new franchisees at a rate of one every two weeks.

“In truth”, said Holland, “I’m incredibly impressed with everything that LoveSac has accomplished and we’re very honored that Ernst and Young included us in their competition. It’s an honor to be in the same room with such a talented and brilliant field of entrepreneurs.

BackcountryStore.com was one of 24 finalists for the 10^th annual Utah 2003 Ernst & Young Entrepreneur of the Year Awards, which are co-sponsored by Utah Business magazine. The finalists were chosen from approximately 50 nominations, and the “emerging” category focuses on relatively young businesses.

BackcountryStore.com – which was named one of 2002’s top 50 e-commerce sites by Internet Retailer Magazine – sells high-end, specialty gear for backcountry adventures, including skiing, snowboarding, climbing, trail running, camping and hiking. The company was founded in 1997 by Holland, a six-time U.S. National Ski Jumping Champion, and Bresee, former Powder Magazine Editor. For more information, visit www.BackcountryStore.com.

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Popularity: unranked [?]

10 years of trying to become the best outdoor gear etailer (written in 2005)

Ten years ago we placed an order from our first vendors: one pair of Atomic Tourcap Light skis, one pieps 457 (pre opti-finder), Life-link probe poles…that’s all I can remember, but it may well have been our entire inventory for the first year. It was peaceful in those days; a man could put the answering machine on and tour in piece back then, knowing that no business would disturb him. Oh how it’s changed.

We began working on a t-shirt to commemorate this anniversary, something for those who have been part of the freight train…and we batted ideas around and one that seemed to stick was a word cloud, a collection of words that resonate with the people in the company, shaped like our venerable goat logo. Here are some of the words that made it and some that didn’t:

Glenn—the long suffering UPS driver who had to endure ever larger piles of gear going out the door. Sandy Brown—the sales rep who first took a gamble on us. Christian—the one man locomotive, don’t get in his way. Breezecom—the wireless network that occasionally connected us to the internet from the sticks of Heber, Utah. Rhett—who answered the phone when the Breezecom wouldn’t talk. ShopSite and BarneyBooks—you were so good to us when we were young, but as in all dysfunctional relationships, someone had to grow up. Patient partners—the enduring constancy of my partner who had the stick-to-itiveness to know that there would be light at the end of the tunnel. Sid Ewing—first developer, ‘nuff said. Spaletto/Lajoy/Uhland—there isn’t a golf swing amongst them, but good partners are hard to find so we’ll keep ‘em. Snake Creek—sucking two-stroke fumes at seven am from the company snowmobile on the way to the Backcountry.com private reserve. Grover—for his honest feedback. OR—for putting on a show in our back yards. Google—Sergey, Larry, nice work boys, we owe you one. Interchange—the hardest working open source platform in the business, why must you be so complex. Sara and Beth—who suffered and celebrated along with us. Dustin—who put up with my half-assed management style at three different companies. He has gear and ecommerce more deeply embedded in his DNA than any other man on the planet. Jeff Carter—who took our cold-call while at the Sundance Company and was visionary enough to see where we were going. Midnight server crashes, Hat in a Bag, Backcountry Bob(s), water filters, snow clogs, Suunto’s, Erin, trekking poles, SnowThug.com, SteakFry.com, bcstore.com, Axis41, Luther, WebSideStory, Cheryl, Sam, and on and on…too many words, memories, people.

Gearheads–the people who work at Backcountry.com, the people who wake up dreaming about gear, live for testing it, and have worked their butts off to make this the company that it is.

Gear Freaks of the world–For ten years we have fought to bring you the finest gear on the planet, describe it in an honest light-hearted way. Ship it to you faster than you thought possible and always, always treat you as we would like to be treated, with honesty and respect. Thanks for your faith.

The Wasatch Mountains—without our church none of this would have been possible.

Popularity: unranked [?]