Why Your Favorite Outdoor Brand is Probably Struggling Right Now

You wouldn’t believe it surfing Instagram, where brand after brand in the outdoor space projects the cool, stylish confidence endemic of a modern and mature industry.

And it might not be apparent on the retail floor of your favorite outdoor store, where technologically ascendant wares are merchandised in myriad forms for any endeavor. 

But from outerwear to ski boots, and all points in between, your favorite outdoor brand has probably just had one of their most challenging years yet.

As the worldhas been wrought with the effects of a complicated modern era, where political upheaval and uncertainty have touched nearly every facet of life, the outdoor industry—a juggernaut of commerce and cultural cachet—has entered a new era.

As COVID ever remains a hazy, if ever impactful, memory, new challenges, from the abandoning of the industry’s legacy waterproofing agents to the second Trump administration’s tariffs, have quietly but profoundly impacted the outdoor culture and its commerce.

It all marks a seismic shift that first began in early 2020.

In what now reads as an understatement, and portending years of disruption, The New York Times reported in January 2020 that the United States had seen its first case of what was then referred to as the Wuhan coronavirus.

“A man in Washington State is infected with the Wuhan coronavirus, the first confirmed case in the United States of a mysterious respiratory infection that has killed at least six people and sickened hundreds more in Asia, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention announced on Tuesday,” health reporter Roni Caryn Rabin detailed. 

At the time, precautions were being taken, including what the article noted as “expanded screenings for the infection at major airports in the United States. In addition to New York, Los Angeles and San Francisco, airports in Atlanta and Chicago will begin examining passengers arriving from Wuhan, China, for signs of illness.” 

Just two months later, life in the United States and the world over would be upended by lockdown and precaution aimed at stemming the transmission of a disease that was then wreaking havoc in places like New York City, Spain, Italy, China, and beyond, killing thousands. 

“America plunged into a deeper state of disruption and paralysis on Friday as New York and Illinois announced a broad series of measures aimed at keeping tens of millions of residents cloistered in their homes, following similar actions by California and a patchwork of restrictions from coast to coast,” The Times reported on March 20th, 2020.

As lockdowns became commonplace the country over, millions fled, staying with friends and relatives in communities far from their homes in urban and suburban locales. And as the initial shock of the pandemic waned, many of those millions took to the outdoors as community gatherings—from sporting events to church services—were halted.

Soon, many would not only temporarily relocate, they would permanently find their homes and vocations not in urban centers but in previously mellow towns adjacent to public lands, taking to once quiet backcountry skiing zones and hitherto undiscovered backpacking oases, trailheads and parks, in unprecedented numbers. The COVID-19 pandemic unavoidably transformed American life. And, perhaps disproportionally, from mounting unaffordability to excessive participation, it changed the outdoor culture and industry. 

But the pandemic was but the first in an array of modern hurdles the outdoor industry would face.

Just as the growth of mountain and beach towns in the last half decade has brought to the fore complicated ideals of how these communities should grow, outdoor commerce has also endured a tangled trajectory in COVID’s wake. At first leading to a fitful explosion in participation and a related boom in the purchase of wares and equipment, gear like skis and mountain bikes were for months difficult to purchase as demand skyrocketed. Trailheads close to cities and towns alike burst with new users. It seemed the outdoor industry had found an economic silver lining to the disruption and loss wrought by the pandemic.

The widely accepted narrative of COVID’seffect on the outdoor culture—that stay-at-home orders and the suspension of any large gathering drove those who could to the outdoors, or even to relocate to smaller, less urban towns—certainly isn’t wrong. Participation in all things outdoors has risen, often dramatically, since those quarantine days, and it hasn’t abated. Forbes reported in February of 2023 in an article entitled, Outdoor Recreation Industry Sees Significant Growth With Changes In Consumer Behavior Sparked By Covid-19.

“The [outdoor] industry has grown 6.7% per year on average in the U.S. between 2018 and 2023, with a marked jump from 2020 to 2021. In fact, the sporting goods industry in the U.S. has increased faster than the economy overall.” 

That trend has only deepened, with the Outdoor Industries of America reporting in 2024 that the new equilibrium has created an outdoor industry that now generates some $1.2 trillion in economic output, or 2.3% of the GDP in the United States. “Despite economic fluctuations and market adjustments following the pandemic, the outdoor recreation economy continues to outpace the broader U.S. economy in several metrics,” the report reads. “The data reflects increased participation across a variety of outdoor activities and a surge in related industries such as arts, entertainment, recreation, accommodation, and food services (up 6% in real terms).” 

Moreover, the makeup of mountain towns the country over has undeniably changed in the wake of COVID-induced relocations, becoming more populated by second-home owners and the wealthy, forever and fitfully changing these communities. A report and analysis prepared by former Pitkin County Commissioner Mick Ireland and Yale University Professor Justin Farrell illustrates this archetypal development, showing how the long, modest, and mellow town of Steamboat Springs, Colorado, has evolved along the lines of a community that is perhaps the exemplar of luxury and disparity: Aspen. “Steamboat is showing trends similar to Aspen, leading to a reduction in middle-class residents,” Steamboat Pilot writer Suzie Romig noted in May of 2025 of a presentation by Ireland and Farrell. “Data in both cities shows declining voter registration numbers in short-term rental housing zones, increasing non-local ownership of homes leading to skyrocketing housing costs and decreasing birth rates by families pinched by tough economics and costly housing.”

But these notions, especially in regard to the outdoor industry, are incomplete. While the dominant portrayal of outdoors-based commerce in this era is one of maximum demand and the related rise in sales often referenced as the “COVID-bump,” the pandemic years were much more complicated for businesses producing for the outdoor sector. And a duo of subsequent challenges—the sudden abandonment of the ubiquitous water-proofing agent known as PFAS, and the Trump-era tariffs and ensuing uncertainty—have exacerbated an already tumultuous business landscape.

Dave Simpson, partner and senior director at Verde Brand Communications, an outdoor public relations firm based in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, has perhaps an unrivaled perspective on the evolution of the outdoor culture in America. Long a writer and editor at the Jackson Hole Guide, Simpson has also spent twenty-five years in the outdoor industry in retail, marketing, and public relations, giving him a unique and close relationship with pressing topics in outdoor culture and business like affordability, development, and growth.

And through Verde, a firm that represents myriad outdoor brands like Thermarest, Mammut, and Scarpa, Simpson has closely experienced the tumultuous recent modern era in the industry.

“It’s been an interesting let’s say five or six years with what’s happened,” says Simpson. In that half-decade, Simpson notes the three main challenges that have challenged outdoor companies: the complicated effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, the sudden retreat from the common waterproofing agents known as PFAS, and the Trump-era trade war.

COVID, and the subsequent impact that lockdown and social distancing had on American life, brought a slew of complicating factors to the outdoor sector. At first, as the government strove to define what constituted essential businesses, many outdoor outlets found themselves shuttered, and business cratered. “COVID affected brands by everybody shut down,” Simpson notes. That included outdoor behemoth REI, who in a March 15th 2020 letter detailed their impending closure. “After a great deal of careful consideration, we are temporarily closing our 162 retail stores nationwide starting tomorrow, March 16,” a letter from president and CEO of REI Co-op Eric Artz read.

Like many other retailers, REI kept its stores shuttered long beyond its original plans. While REI continued to pay their retail employees through April 14th, as reported by Business insider, “On April 15, 90% of the retail staff was placed on an unpaid 90-day furlough, while maintaining their benefits.” Many outdoor brands would report losses in 2020, from Adidas AG, which posted a -16.1% loss in revenue in 2020, to Clarus Corp., a conglomerate which owns outdoor stalwart Black Diamond Equipment, who reported a -2.3% drop in revenue. As reported by Eric Smith in Outside in the same article, REI would similarly see losses. “For the full year, the co-op reported revenue of $2.75 billion, down 11.8 percent from 2019,” Smith wrote. “It also posted a loss of $34 million, down from a $21 million profit last year.”

Like many brands and retailers, REI would continue selling wares online, especially as stay-at-home orders and the effective closure of the public sphere led many to the outdoors. “A lot of people, because of the pandemic, got interested in outdoor activities, and there was this boom of new types of people wanting to do outdoor activities, and that led to a boom in sales,” Simpson recalls. A sort of renaissance-in-miniature ensued for outdoor brands as demand rose for their products, and the austerity of the initial lockdown phase of the COVID response gave way to fewer restrictions, especially outdoors. But while sales ramped up, supply chain woes, from production snags in Asia to disruptions at the port of Long Beach all the way to the REI loading docks, led to a complicated COVID silver lining. “There wasn't enough inventory so a lot of companies ramped up production,” says Simpson. “That created more inventory but there was a lag time before that inventory got into the pipeline.”

That lag was instigated by severe problems wrought by the pandemic, affecting the entire outdoor supply chain. As finished goods began leaving Asian production centers en masse after manufacturing kicked back into high gear, a cascade of issues ensued. A case study published by the United Nations Trade & Development Organization noted that “since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach have faced severe disruption. From mid-2021, the ports experienced massive logjams of container vessels at anchor, with an average of 30 vessels waiting at any given time.” From production to customs and finally delivery, much of the inventory produced to match the higher demand for outdoor equipment came too late.

Simpson deftly summarizes the effect COVID had on the outdoor sector: “It seemed to be kind of a bump; a lot of people got interested in it then a lot of those people got less interested in it. So suddenly there was a lot of inventory but it kind of came online at a time after which those people were interested in outdoor activities.” Moreover, many retailers, seeing the hiccups then occurring in production and delivery, make large preseason orders in subsequent seasons in an effort to at least get some product, but eventually many of those preseason orders, which brands used to plan production, were cancelled. Through over-production, a disrupted supply chain, and those cancellations, many brands were left with a glut of inventory.

And much of that inventory contained the previously ubiquitous waterproofing agent known as PFAS. Per-and polyfluoroalkyl substances became commonplace after Dr. Roy J. Plunkett discovered a substance in 1938 when working at DuPont’s Jackson Laboratory in New Jersey, where he was experimenting with tetrafluoroethylene (TFE) gas. According to The American Physics Society, a scientific advocate and journal publisher, during an experiment, Dr. Plunkett “realized that the TFE gas had polymerized—something not predicted by prevailing theory at the time— into a waxy solid known as polytetrafluoroethylene (PTFE), with the iron surface inside the container acting as a catalyst.” While Dr. Plunkett “initially considered the experiment a failure, PTFE proved to have some remarkable properties. It was corrosion- and high-heat-resistant, for instance, and had very low surface friction.” The substance would come to be known as Teflon, soon finding myriad applications. 

And polytetrafluoroethylene—a substance which belongs to a broader class of materials known as PFAS—would eventually find application in the outdoor space. In 1969, Gore-Tex was derived from PTFE by Bill Gore, previously an engineer at DuPont, and his son Bob. According to GoreTex’s website, “Bill had left a job at chemical company DuPont to pursue his belief in the untapped potential of PTFE (polytetrafluoroethylene).” Bob Gore would be the one to officially christen the material when he “discovered ePTFE (expanded polytetrafluoroethylene). Among its many special attributes, this microporous material is permeable to vapour, liquid proof, and has good weathering properties.” The material would initially find use in plumber’s tape and coaxial cable before an ePTFE membrane came to market in jackets as Gore-Tex in 1976.

That application was revolutionary. And PTFE and the broader class of PFAS waterproofing agents came to see widespread use in outdoor equipment, becoming indispensable to the outdoor industry and its production of outerwear, footwear, tents, and more. 

But PFAS eventually became maligned due to its inability to break down in the environment (the class of compounds is often referred to as ‘forever chemicals’) and for its potential to cause health problems in humans. Governments thus began regulating the substances. The European Union began phasing out perfluorooctane sulfonic acid and its derivatives (known as PFOS, a category under PFAS used primarily in non-stick cookware) in 2009 under the Stockholm Convention, a treaty intended to remedy persistent organic pollutants, of which the United States is not a ratifier. The Stockholm Convention parties would include PFAS in the treaty in July 2020, instigating a gradual restriction in European countries.  

That and the United States’ more sudden approach to regulating the compounds, which were present in much of the post-COVID inventory brought on by many brands, would have broad implications for the outdoor sector. “[The regulation of PFAS] followed on the heels of this over-inventory problem relative to demand,” Dave Simpson notes. “PFAS was an interesting one because essentially it was led by California. [And] essentially it happened very quickly here in North America.”

California was key in instigating restrictions on PFAS domestically when on September 9th, 2022, Governor Gavin Newsom approved California Assembly bills Number 2771 and 1817, which outlawed PFAS’ intentional application in cosmetics and textiles in the state. Both were slated for effect January 1st, 2025. REI responded with a letter of approval. And in February of 2023, REI announced it would follow suit, with USA Today reporting that the retailer would mandate that “all cookware and many textile products – including clothes, backpacks and footwear…must be PFAS-free by fall 2024,” and that “all textile products must be PFAS-free by fall 2026.”

While well-intended, those measures by both the state with perhaps the most clout in environmental law nationwide and the country’s largest and most influential outdoor retailer would upend an industry still reeling from COVID.

“Europe has taken a more measured approach,” Dave Simpson opines. “They were on the PFAS case earlier in terms of working to phase out the use of PFAS, but they took a more measured approach of ‘let’s do it over time so it doesn’t disrupt the supply chain so much.’” 

By contrast, the trajectory of PFAS regulation in the United States was more disruptive. “Here in the US there was very little interest in regulating it from what I could tell, then all of a sudden it came out as an issue starting with California and a variety of states, they decided ‘let’s phase this out in a year and a half’ and that obviously made it very difficult for manufactures when you had people like REI saying we’re not going to accept any inventory with [PFAS] in it,” Simpson notes.

Brands—many of whom were already saddled with tremendous inventory levels—were thus forced to move through their PFAS-containing product in short order, leading to widespread discounting, upending the market, and leading to razor-thin margins industry-wide.

“That made it difficult on manufacturers,” Simpson says. “They basically had to dump all the inventory containing PFAS and bring in new inventory. So there was a cost to that not only turning over an entire season’s worth of product, but also selling that product in many cases at discounted rates which puts a lot of product out there which reduces the demand for new product. So that was a challenge for retailers, too.”

As brands have grappled with tightening margins and diminished demand wrought both by the sales shadow instigated by the high demand during COVID and the subsequent discounting to move through PFAS inventory, a third blow has hit the outdoor industry with the second Trump administration's trade war, whose tariffs have targeted many, if not most, of the countries known for producing outdoor gear.

Since first imposing tariffs in January, duties on Chinese goods have been as high as 145% on many items before diminishing to lower levels. Cambodia saw tariffs as high as 49%, while Vietnam was levied at 46%, both countries being locales where many outdoor brands have moved manufacturing to in hopes of diversifying away from single reliance on Chinese production.

And as the tariffs for months were rescinded only to be reapplied over and over again, an unprecedented level of uncertainty emerged in the outdoor sector, disrupting supply chains all over again as brands held orders at port or changed production schedules in order to navigate an additional cost that many companies struggle to absorb, especially smaller, independently owned outfits.

Eagle Creek, the legacy luggage maker, is one of those brands. A July 11th  New York Times profile detailed how the small company based out of Steamboat Springs, Colorado was navigating the trade war, with owner and CEO Travis Campbell candidly illuminating how the tariffs and their application had upended his business, causing issues in shipping, receiving, hiring, and more.

“In a series of interviews and chats over text message in recent weeks, Mr. Campbell described how his company had been stuck in a state of limbo since Mr. Trump first introduced his expansive tariffs that would impose double-digit levies on dozens of countries,” the article reads.

“Unable to plan for the future without having a firmer view of its expenses, the company paused hiring and salary increases, and it cut back its spending on marketing. Investments in research and development, including for a new product line that the company had hoped to introduce next spring, have been frozen.”

While tariffs have remained mostly stable over the last several months (and a federal appeals court decision in August found many of them illegal, though left them in place in expectation of an appeal to the Supreme Court) their slapdash application has created long lasting uncertainty for many makers, not least of all in the outdoor industry.

That has trickled down to outdoor retailers and consumers. Dave Simpson notes that “there’s a lot of uncertainty because nobody seems to know, obviously it's been very changeable. None of these brands know what to expect. Then you get into the retail channel, and retailers don’t know what to expect either; consumers don’t know what to expect.”

SGB Media, a news source for active, lifestyle business reported in October that uncertainty may have real economic consequences, reporting that “average holiday budgets this year are expected to decline by 10.2 percent to $1,133 per person, from $1,261 last year, as lower-income consumers offset spending hikes by affluent households, according to JLL’s 2025 U.S. Holiday Shopping Survey,” the article notes, before further delving into the spending divide present between high earners and lower earners.

“The survey of 1,001 U.S. adults found that higher-income households earning over $150,000 are increasing their planned spending by 26 percent this year to $1,963, while lower-income households earning under $50,000 will severely cut back to just $699—a steep 24 percent decrease from $915 last year.”

“Consumer confidence is pretty low, and they think holiday spending is going to be reduced because of inflation and consumer caution,” Simpson corroborates. “So it’s sort of been a lot of things that have hit brands, not just in the outdoor industry, but certainly the outdoor industry is one of those affected in rapid succession.”

Thus, the outdoor industry finds itself in a unique conundrum. And in a culture where getting equipment on the cheap—whether through generously approved pro programs or end-of-season sales—is commonplace, and made evermore the norm via off-price sales to move through the glut of post-COVID inventory, much of it made with PFAS, the industry ever sways.

And certain indicators seem to point to a faltering outdoor industry. Dick’s Sporting Goods, the sporting goods retailer that diversified into traditional outdoor in 2021 with its Public Lands stores, has seen the new concept falter and has closed several locations. And eminent outdoor lynchpin REI announced in October that it would close three locations in 2026.

Moreover, some have called attention to the quiet plight of the outdoor industry, especially its smaller brands. Outdoor writer Kyle Frost detailed the shutter of outdoor apparel maker NW Alpine in his Substack Here & There, pointing to not only an industry perhaps teetering, but prone to a wave of conglomeration. 

“The outdoor industry projects confidence publicly. Participation numbers hit record highs. The ‘$1.3 trillion’ economic impact figure gets repeated endlessly on conference stages, in think pieces, and in press releases about the industry’s ‘power.’” Frost wrote in the piece entitled “Don't start an outdoor brand (right now).”

“But if you start to dig into the financial statements of the major players (or chat off-the-record with a few folks), a different picture emerges.”

“The dirty secret is that many of the outdoor industry’s most visible players are standing on financial quicksand,” Frost asserts. “And when that ground finally gives way, the question isn’t whether there will be consolidation, layoffs, and closures—it’s who will be left standing to pick up the pieces.”

When asked to characterize that sentiment, Dave Simpson largely agrees, especially regarding the pressures faced by small outdoor companies.

“There’s definitely pressure on smaller brands right now, because bigger brands are able to absorb price uncertainty because of volume, so I would say it is accurate that uncertainty around tariffs creates more concern and potential headwinds for small brands just because they are small,” Simpson says. “I do think the gist of probably where that concern is coming from, there’s more pressure on smaller brands because of their size, is probably true.”

However, Simpson adopts a more optimistic approach.

“That’s where we are, which sounds I suppose pretty negative in certain respects, but I also don’t think–having been in this industry myself in various aspects for 25 years–what I can say is that people always do outdoor activities, and there’s always a demand for a certain amount of gear and products that enable those outdoor activities,” he notes. “I’m not going to say recession-proof but it seems like, in my experience in the outdoor industry, the highs aren’t as high as in other industries and the lows aren’t as low.”

“I’ve been in the industry long enough to see the downturn around 2007, 2008, late aughts, and that certainly impacted the outdoor industry, but again that was an example of where a lot of things kind of dropped out in the economy and outdoor fared better,” Simpson says. 

“I mean, it was still a reduction, but better than other industries. Nobody really knows, but if history’s any guide it could be the case again.”

About The Brave New World of Skiing Column

This article was written by POWDER writer Jack O’Brien for his bi-weekly ‘Brave New World of Skiing’ column. Click below to read the previous column, ‘The Off-Limits Nature of Politics In Skiing—And What It Means In A Fraught Time'