Select ‘f’ for fucked is more like it. (Good thing important files are backed up and accessible on another computer.)
Last night, Eileen, Jeremy, Barbara, Susan, Nick and I skied and hiked into the Mount Tahoma Trails Association’s yurt under moonlight. Not your typical Friday night activity, to be sure, but a great way to end the week! This morning, the weather was surprisingly clear (the forecast was for rain/snow), so we high-tailed it out of there.
The views were good, so there was plenty of reason to slow it down.
The snow was ski-able for about 2/3 of the trip. Nick and I had the advantage on the way in because we were walking instead of skiing. Downhill on the way out, however, was a different story.
Dear Mountaineering Boot Manufacturers,
Before I tell you what’s really setting my hair on fire this morning, I should probably thank you for partnering with W.L. Gore to bring consumers the best shoe warranty on the planet. I recently sent them a pair of Sportiva mountaineering boots and a pair of Vasque trail running shoes. Both were Gore-Tex lined, but after 5 years of heavy use neither were waterproof anymore. In fact they were the reverse of waterproof. Water got in and never went back out, creating an unpleasant swimming pool inside my shoes.
Since buying new shoes could cost upwards of $400, I figured it was time to test Gore’s “guaranteed to keep you dry” warranty. After a day in the testing lab, a really nice customer service rep, Bill Acklin, called to confirm that the shoes do indeed leak and that all I had to do was email him the make and size of my preferred replacements. He would take care of ordering and shipping them to me. (Is it just me or does it feel like I’m getting away with something?)
Now onto the point of my letter: Since I didn’t have to replace the shoes and boots with the exact same model, I gleefully opened up my browser this morning to start “shopping.” After roughly 30 minutes of browsing mountaineering boot manufacturer websites, I want to ask just one question: Do you drive around in a van at night picking up rocks and then put them in front of a computer at the office and call them marketing specialists?!
It’s the age of the Internet people, and not having a website is unacceptable. (Yes, Millet, I’m talking to you.) I want to see your entire product catalog in one place, so I can pick the appropriate shoe for my endeavors and then go find the shoe at a retailer. I don’t want to be forced to go from retail site to retail site just to piece together a partial catalog.
And speaking of a complete product catalog, it is entirely unhelpful when the only thing you put on your website is your winter collection of ski boots. Garmont, I know you sell other things besides tele boots because they’re in stores, and not just on closeout either. You’ve lost two potential sales because I don’t know what type of mountaineering or approach shoes you make.
Also, please don’t make your readers download a PDF just to see your product collection. Yes, your graphics people did a nice job on your print catalog, but using it as your online catalog, as well, is Just. Plain. Lazy. Web design has advanced a long way since 1994; it’s time you started using the technology available to you.
Garmont and Asolo, you also need to hire someone who actually speaks English to translate your website. It’s funny and cute the first few times you read “to be outside in the mountain,” but where do phrases like “none this shop for the nation” come from? Subject-verb agreement is not rocket science. Neither is using the same tense throughout an entire sentence. In English, only proper nouns are capitalized, not every noun. I don’t mind the occasional mistranslated word, but hire someone who understands the basic fundamentals of a language so you don’t look like a provincial Italian company who just woke up to the idea that people outside your country buy your products.
And lastly, for CRYING! OUT! LOUD! Asolo, when you make more than one type of shoe, help us differentiate between them. What the upper and lower are made out of, what type of lasting board is inside, and what type of foot bed my tootsies will rest on is basically the last thing I care about. But you decided that that’s the only way you were going to describe your shoes. WTF? I want to know what pursuit this boot was designed for, how it is better/worse than the next boot at kicking steps, at taking a crampon, at climbing technical rock, at moving over rocky, snowy, sandy, rocky-sandy, snowy-rocky, and sandy-snowy terrain. Failing to include this basic information shows you have a fundamental gap in your understanding of what your customers are interested in and how your customers pick a product. Here’s a free tip: we don’t pick a boot because the accent color matches our jacket.
Outdoor boot manufacturers, you seem like reasonably intelligent people. You have, after all, designed some pretty amazing footwear that has helped take me and many others to some of the most beautiful places on earth, all while keeping our toes warm and dry. I would like think that I can continue wearing your products instead of resorting to this barefoot fad. Or perhaps running and hiking barefoot is the response to your crappy marketing efforts – paralysis in the face of blind decisions has lead to no decision at all. Something to think about.
I’ve long maintained that the most beautiful views are reserved for those that earn them. This afternoon, John, Denise, Paul and I hiked up Mailbox Peak, reaching the top near sunset. Our first glimpse of Rainier was stunning.
Of course, it only got better as the sun dipped further below the horizon.