The History of Outerthere
Hi Fam,
Outerthere founder Al here. It's been a minute and there's a lot more of you getting this now, so let me reintroduce myself. I launched Outerthere in 2012 with only one intention, to not feel so alone on a hike. (Outerthere the Business came muuuch later.) Two years before, my ex-wife had a psychotic break. She did things that ended up getting her physically restrained, arrested and committed.
It was my first experience with mental illness and it was devastating. It forced me to completely reevaluate my entire life. In 2011, I decided to switch careers and for the 1st time in my life, I started to think about purpose. The first thing I did was create a bucket list of all the adventures I wanted to try before I died.
By 2012, I almost completed that bucket list. But what was missing was that despite all the adventures and people I'd met that year, I still felt alone. Unable to find a community I connected with in a mostly male and pale outdoor industry, I did what I usually do. I started one. (Not all outdoorsy guys are the same, btw. S/o to my bros who support this community!)
In the fall of 2012, I started unofficially guiding groups of friends on hikes. And by April of 2013, I had fallen completely in love with being an outdoor guide as a career and launched what today is Outerthere, a community that supports each other trying amazing activities in safe, welcoming outdoor spaces.
But how did it all come together?
It started with climbing for me. I signed up for group lessons at Chelsea Piers. But climbing is clique-y. So, instead of receiving instruction, I was often left to figure things out on my own.
When you dive, you need a dive buddy. No exceptions. It's a serious relationship because you're trusting that person with your life. My ex-wife was my dive buddy and you know how that turned out. I tried to connect with other divers at local diving spots with no luck because divers prefer people they already know.
Exploring undeveloped, natural caves is an incredible experience. But northeast caving is dominated by older white men. Without experience, they won't take you to certain caves... unless you're a younger woman. Then, regardless of your experience, these men will take you to advanced caves, lend you all the gear you'll need and even show you skills reserved for advanced cavers. It can be so alienating (or creepy), that we came up with a name for it: when someone wants to give you #icecreamandflowers
And so it was, this same pattern every time: I found something new I wanted to try. The gatekeepers were not interested in having me around. But I never noticed any of this at first. I just kept trying new things: sailing, snowboarding, you name it. And with each new adventure, I felt less and less welcome.
Then, George Floyd happened and things started to make a little more sense.
Let me explain.
The outdoor industry in the U.S. was and remains owned by white men.
Men who have defined what it means to be "outdoorsy" and how to do it. You abide by their rules, adhere to their values and you get to join their communities. And those communities, which come together around individual activities like skiing, climbing, surfing, etc, are cliquish, exclusive and toxic.
Ironically, these same outdoorsy communities consistently claim to love introducing beginners to their sport. But the reality is that if you’re a beginner, you’re really not that welcome. If you leave the sport, you're not welcome back. If you opt out of their cliquish, toxic culture, you're not going to feel welcome. If you’re a woman, you’re not welcome as an equal.
And if you’re a person of color, a different shape or size, born in a different country or are differently-abled in any way, you’re not welcome at all and you will feel it. (Of course, there's always exceptions; but this is how it works).
If you've ever thought to yourself, "That's a white people thing?", that's an idea that's been put in your head intentionally by this treatment, so you don't want to participate in the same amazing outdoor activities that white people have always participated in since they were kids. In other words, it's their thing, not yours.
What the tragedy of George Floyd revealed to me was that if the outdoor industry in the U.S. really wanted to change and welcome everyone equally, they would have. But they won't change. That motivated me to do something about it. Here's what I did.
My experience with my ex taught me how poorly the U.S. deals with mental health. How the system isolates our loved ones from us, the friends and family who love them the most, instead of incorporating us into the healing process.
And as I'm feeling frustrated as a caregiver for someone with mental health challenges, I'm simultaneously feeling frustrated as a person of color not always feeling welcome in these outdoor communities that I tried to be a part of.
These experiences intersected to unexpectedly create the most diverse outdoor community in NYC where the focus is the activity. Where anyone can try hiking, camping, kayaking, climbing, caving, snowboarding, biking, running, anything - in safe, welcoming spaces, without judgement or fear of being left behind. That's what Outerthere is all about and how it came to be.
By now you’re probably wondering, "Why isn’t Outerthere a non-profit?"
Because it is my feeling that it's a waste of time to solicit the outdoor industry establishment to support and respect the rest of us. If they really wanted to, they would make gear more affordable, apparel for all shapes and sizes and reduce the cost of accessing their venues.
Instead, I’d rather invest our time in growing a business that creates opportunities for members of marginalized communities to become industry leaders themselves.
I believe that if we become the biggest company in the outdoor industry, with a business model that puts diversity and inclusivity front and center, then everyone else will copy. And those that don’t will get left behind.
Because this is the only way that the outdoor industry will have an incentive to change. When a new industry leader is generating more revenue than they are in "their" industry. And to compete, they'll be forced to do what we do and put diversity and inclusivity front and center, too.
Wouldn't that be something.
Another question I keep is getting is why aren’t we on TripAdvisor, Yelp or other review sites?
Ratings and reviews go against everything Outerthere is all about. Maybe grab a seat because I have a lot to say about this.
Ratings and reviews are for things you buy where you know exactly what you're getting and its value is narrow and specific.
They're credited with helping draw new customers to a business by turning every experience into a low-thinking, quick transaction where the value of the thing you're buying is defined by self-imposed middlemen who control those reviews.
Outerthere trips are special because unlike these other things you buy, you take your time with it. From reading our descriptions and Welcome emails and then trusting us with your safety and fun, at no point are you rushed and made to feel like you were just a transaction to get your money faster.
If you've been reading the story of how Outerthere got started these last couple of weeks, then chances are you've probably been on more than 1 of our trips. And each time you've joined us, it was a different experience, but somehow still the same.
So, one: it's impossible to rate and review trips. Destinations change. Each experience is unique to each individual. And every activity involves different leaders and equipment, any of which can impact your experience.
And two: Tech companies figured this out long ago and have always known that reviews are meaningless. They get written by less than 2% (NYTimes) of all shoppers... or bots, or paid reviewers or just people who want attention but never actually bought anything. But tech companies have worked hard to get the other 98% of us to take them more seriously.
Why? Because in order to address negative reviews, businesses are charged a fee. If you don't pay, negative reviews scale until a business is burned to the ground. It's legal extortion-as-a-business that creates a vicious circle that welcomes more bad behaviors and keeps tech companies rich. It's not hard to see how far a tech company might go with this to get its fee.
I'm not even exaggerating. I was shocked to learn (Gothamist) that Grubhub owns the phone numbers on its service so when you call a restaurant for any reason, even through a Google search, you're speaking to Grubhub, and Grubhub charges the business as much as $8 per call! At no point do restaurants ask for any of this, but since they're small, they relent and pay.
If we as hosts make you feel welcome and respected; if we did our job well and really listened to you; and if we set the standard so high, there's no comparison, then you'll remember your experiences positively forever, you'll keep coming back and you'll refer everyone you know, all without ever having seen a single rating or review.
Our number one source of new guests is you, our awesome fam. So thank you so much for helping us make to the first decade, hundreds of trips and thousands of guests without any reviews!
And thank you for joining me on this journey. See you outerthere.
-Al
Founder & General Manager
Outerthere.com
P.S. I'm not saying all reviews are bad. They help us invest our time and money better and can sometimes empower the powerless when we've been ripped off and hopefully prevent someone else from becoming a victim.
However, a bad business can relaunch with a new name and pay for fake reviews to continue to rip its customers off. So before you trust that review, just remember how both sides can game the system to fool you.
