Climbing Back Up The Mountain

It took some gumption, though, for Manzer to argue that EMS needed a radical makeover, because those racks of fleece were selling. "In the three years prior to Will's buyout, profitability in apparel was climbing," says Pete Gilmore, a vice president formerly in charge of soft goods. But Manzer says the handwriting was on the wall. While profits in apparel were climbing, overall revenue at the $200 million company was declining.

Rebuilding the EMS brand started with the products. The company is reconnecting with its hard-core audience by leaping into edgy new sports well before others -- kite skiing, for example, and high-performance sledding. Beyond a small circle of knuckle draggers with a death wish, will aircraft-grade aluminum toboggans and such sell? That's not the point, says Gilmore. It's about becoming the place for gear again. "They're fringe sports, but they're also alpha sports," he says. "We're not going to sell a ton of these, but when someone wants one, we've got them." EMS is also designing such things as the Digidome, a tent with integrated solar panels, speakers, and a power jack (for those who need to charge their laptops from the great outdoors). Such rivals as Cabela's and REI -- not to mention the Gap -- won't. "They're picking segments and subsegments where they think they can massively win," says Selden.

To make the environment match the products, EMS is redesigning its stores to project an image of danger, fun, and adrenaline. The prototype store, under Bradbury's direction in Millbury, Massachusetts, is raw and utilitarian, like an airplane hangar stocked full of snowshoes and freeze-dried camping food. Large plasma screens over the cash register flash dizzying scenes of kite skiers soaring off cliffs. Steel racks with exposed welding, machine-shop shelves, and stacks of fluorescent orange buckets fill the walls. It's a design the company hopes will actually put older customers on edge. "This store is probably too raw for people over 40," says Lucarelli, who was in charge of making the concept store a reality. "We may have fewer customers, but they'll be the right customers." Like Brewer, the onetime EMS fan. He's been to the prototype store, and he likes the look of it. "It's a direction they really should go in," he says. "The majority of their core customers over the years have been waiting for this."

EMS is also hiring its core knuckle-dragger customers to staff the stores. "Which is easier," asks Bradbury, "teaching kids who can fold sweaters how to ice climb, or teaching ice climbers how to fold sweaters?" Those gearhead salespeople aren't just knowledgeable about their stores' products; their contacts in local communities of outdoor enthusiasts reach much deeper than any marketing campaign. At the Millbury store, for example, one employee runs the Web site for the New England rock-climbing club. To attract such knowledgeable employees and keep them happy, EMS offers flexible work plans with sabbatical-like stretches of vacation time. Several years ago, Bradbury took a year off from EMS to go climbing in the Himalayas. Recently, his assistant manager spent a month rock climbing in Thailand. Such liberties aren't just for management-track employees: After a year, any full-timer can cut out for 90 days' unpaid leave. It's just another part of Manzer's plan to get EMS back on the side of the angels.

Lucas Conley is a Fast Company staff writer.