The First App is Out

Cool free stuff for your iPhone. We just released our first iPhone app earlier this week for Adventure Press (www.adventurepress.com). DayHikeGear creates customized packing lists for day hikers. And it’s easy. All you do is answer a few quick questions about your hike, and the app generates a personalized packing list for you. You can save your lists, use them again and again, email any list to a less organized hiking partner, or even buy gear directly from the app. And it’s free!

Check it out:

http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/dayhikegear/id337957921?mt=8

Training in Zone 2

We’ve been hard at work for the past couple months, so hard we’ve got our heart rate pegged in Zone 2 and we’ve thoroughly ignored the Milepost 59 blog. Here are a few of the projects we’ve been working on: First, we’ve created and developed two sets of iPhone apps for Adventure Press. One takes trail content from guidebooks and puts it into a mobile form factor (we are definitely not just making the iPhone into a reader). The second is a set of mobile tools for hikers, cyclists, campers and other recreationalists (check out www.mobilegearlists.com). Second, we did some fun spec outdoor work for the Turano Baking Company. Third, for Cascade Designs we’re currently working on print ads for both their MSR and Therm-a-rest brands. Fourth, we created a whole raft of items for a Nature’s Path “café domination” in Portland. Fifth, we’re creating the packaging for a slew of Gear Aid products (field repair kits for recreationalists) from McNett. Sixth, we’re also designing and building a new website for Everyday Athlete.

A Tale of Two Campaigns

 

Two outdoor campaigns here in Seattle have recently grabbed my attention. Just about every Metro bus I see is plastered with one or the other. One of the campaigns is fantastic. The other one sucks. What are they? Chase and the State of Montana. Chase, which took over WAMU, a bank I was sort of fond of (if you can say that about a bank) before I learned how thoroughly screwed up they were, has lined the city with bus sides and outdoor boards introducing themselves to people like me. Unfortunately, they talk to me like I’m an idiot. First, they tell me my old bank wasn’t very good, “better banking is here,” they say. Well, I kind of liked WAMU, and Chase hasn’t given me Reason One to think they are better. Chase should have done a little research before trashing the experience I know to be true. Second, it’s hard to imagine Chase could make it any more obvious they aren’t from around here. Consider this headline: “Seattle: Land of coffee, seafood, and now helpful banking.” Or this headline: “Better Banking is here. And the weather seems to be clearing up already.” Not very insightful for a company to say “Hey Seattle!” and then mention coffee, seafood and the weather. Interestingly, they’ve continued to run the “clearing weather” ad despite the fact the autumn rains have begun. I was happy (enough) with my bank. I’m very unhappy to be talked to like this by Chase. Meanwhile, Montana’s office of tourism has been running a brilliantly simple campaign—no headline, no logo, just one strong photo and a URL. The images make me want to go to Montana, the URL tells me how to get more information. They’ve presented a clear, compelling message—fast—which is exactly what outdoor campaign should do.

Cooking Rutabagas Is Like Starting Milepost 59

I biked home with 20 pounds of vegetables in my pack last night, bundles of spinach hanging off the back like roustabouts clutching to the side of a boxcar. But that image isn’t the end of the story. I was on my way to do something I’d never done before. Cook rutabagas. Until yesterday I’d always had well-established stops in the produce section. I’d duck past the rutabagas and parsnips, evade the turnips and collard greens, head down, avoiding the unknown. That changed yesterday. A renewed curiosity pulled me toward a new recipe full of unfamiliar ingredients. And I found myself in the grocery buying rutabagas, parsnips, beets, collard greens, carrots, potatoes, onions and turnips. At home I washed and peeled them, and marveled at the new textures and smells and colors. I cried when I cut the onions. After an hour I’d made Eastern European Vegetable Stew from a Moosewood cookbook. It’s delicious, hearty and slightly sweet. But what motivated me? Getting out of an assembly-line ad agency and starting Milepost 59 has changed everything. New intentions and renewed curiosity, like those vegetable roustabouts, are holding tight to the side of the train. I feel as open, engaged and creative as ever, maybe more than ever. Here’s to trying something new. Here’s to starting Milepost 59.

Millipedes and Mountain Trolls

Saturday morning and sunny. Pablo and I pick up a wilderness camping permit and bear canister at the Olympic National Park visitors center in Port Angeles. What’s a permit? How much farther? From Lake Ozette, up in the far north corner of the Washington State, we hike the boardwalk toward the ocean. The Ozette River is a short one, and flows brown. Not muddy brown, but bourbon brown from the water’s tannins, and as we cross the bridge we see salmon that, as Pablo says, seem to float just under the surface. What’s a tannin, dad? I’ll get back to you. Canadian dogwood bloom on either side of the planking, amid deer fern and bracken, cedar and hemlock. We rescue banana slugs from getting stepped on, and inspect yellow-spotted millipedes. We stick close together, telling each other stories about Mountain Trolls. In one, a troll’s big toe swells to the size of a watermelon after he stabs it with his own stick; another troll gets his spear stuck in the spokes of a bike and faceplants into a truck; another laughs so hard he spews donuts out his nose. Nothing pairs like physical humor and six year-old boys. Or maybe boys of any age. As we near the beach, we listen to the low rumble of the surf, smell the salt and brine of the air—like salmon, Pablo says—and marvel at the salal which grows rhododendron-high out here in the Pacific Coast rainforest. Why is it called a bear canister, dad? What’s the word for the brown water? Are millipedes poisonous? Are trolls real? His curiosity is as thick and dense as the rainforest, as nimble as the paired feet of a millipede, beautiful as the four-petal dogwood. Trenched in beach sand we find a rusted tube, six feet long and two across, that resembles a tube of toothpaste. What’s that? I don’t know. Take a picture and we’ll find out about it on your computer when we get home. Good idea. Farther down the beach I find a small green and black rock. It’s beautiful. I wonder what it is. I turned it in my hand and then put it in my pocket. Curiosity rising.

The Trail Begins

Welcome to the first few steps of Milepost 59. What are we? Well, we create memorable advertising and marketing for outdoor, recreation, green, healthy and sustainable brands. Why now? We’re tired of the assembly-line work cranked out by many agencies. We enjoy the journey and the craft.

Why should you consider us? Our overhead is ultra low, which is a good thing in times like these. Our strategic thinking isn’t estranged from the creative work, as it is in some agencies. And as long as you get results, we’re happy to communicate via websites, outdoor boards or radio spots. Whatever works. Lately we’ve spent a lot of time working on several mobile apps for branding purposes. You can find more about what we do, and see some of our work, at www.milepost59.com. We make sure to have fun while we’re at it, too. You’ll like working with us.