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Words_ Jen Murphy Featured Image_Kat Cannell / Visit Sun Valley

Sun Valley, Idaho, has long been a beacon for certain kinds of people drawn to the low-key, outdoor lifestyle. Like many other mountain towns, it’s attracted its share of ski bums. But Sun Valley’s ski bums had ambitions beyond nabbing 100+ days a year on the slopes. They brought an entrepreneurial spirit that’s shaped the community but also advanced the ski industry. From the start, this has been a place of firsts: the world’s first chairlift was invented and installed here, and America’s first heli-ski operation began in Sun Valley. Many industry innovations were born in Sun Valley ski bum garages. Ski racer Edward Scott invented the first lightweight aluminum ski pole when he launched Scott USA in 1958, and Dr. Bob Smith launched Smith Optics in 1965 with goggles featuring a new dual-lens technology. Those powerhouse companies may have left the Valley, but they groomed a fresh generation of talent who have continued the entrepreneurial legacy. 

The long-term mountain dream has never been more challenging with rising costs of living and pandemic-inflated housing markets. But with a ski resort right in town, an airport that offers nonstop flights to six major cities, no lift lines, miles and miles of National Forest and BLM land for backcountry adventures, a darn good food scene, plus music and art, free public transportation and a tight-knit community, many are willing to make sacrifices to call Sun Valley home. The area’s outdoor businesses continue to draw in and inspire countless people willing to put in the work to make their mountain town dream a lifelong reality. Here are four Smith Optics and Scott prodigies who are now paving the way for the next generation of ski-obsessed creatives.

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GREG RANDOLPH

Originally from McCall, Idaho, Randolph never imagined he’d end up in Ketchum. He was living in southwest Colorado in 2003 when Smith Optics lured him back to Idaho for a job interview. “Within three hours I knew this was where I was supposed to be,” he recalls. “It’s taken my dad a decade to get over the fact that I moved to Glitter Gulch. But I discovered an awesome community of people with good values. It’s an interesting melting pot of smart curious people living in the mountains.” Randolph went on to spend a decade with Smith and says the company was “one of the finest collections of humans ever.” Many of his colleagues became and remain close friends. As much as he loved the company culture, when Smith announced its departure, he decided to stay behind.

“Ketchum has an entrepreneurial spirit,” he says. “Lots of stuff was invented here like the plastic ski boot and the aero bar that helped Greg LeMond win his second Tour de France. I trusted something else would come up.” In 2014, an idea that started on a napkin turned into Decked, a company that designs and manufactures fully engineered deck and drawer storage systems for full-size pickup trucks. The 175-person company has a team of 34 at its Ketchum headquarters, including Randolph who runs marketing.  

Like any mountain town, Ketchum has its challenges. Randolph notes the influx of pandemic refugees has tightened up an already tight real estate market and service providers are getting priced out. But he believes construction, housing and rent costs will get better in the next 12 to 18 months as more inventory comes online. The unrivaled access to the outdoors is worth the higher cost of living, he says. Randolph and his wife have four girls, ages 18 to 24, and he can’t imagine a better place to raise a family. “Kids learn to go free-range,” he says. “They run rivers, hunt, fish, bike, ski. There’s no crime. All of the dangers are four-legged.” Many kids that grew up in the Valley, including his own, have gone off to see the world only to return to realize how great their hometown is. His eldest daughter moved back and now juggles jobs on ski patrol and with the fire department. “Figuring out how to afford to start your life here isn’t simple,” he says. “But when you love a place, you make it work.”

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ERIC STUMPNER

Growing up in a farm town in Indiana, Stumpner always dreamed of living in a ski town in Colorado, Wyoming or Montana. Idaho wasn’t on his radar until he followed a college friend to Sun Valley one winter. “I loved the small town vibe, culture and the access to the mountain,” he says. At age 29, he moved out to work as a lift mechanic and then started doing web development before he joined the ecommerce department at Smith. The gig was a dream job and when Smith announced its move to Portland, he decided to give it a shot and convinced his now wife to move to the big city. When they returned to Ketchum for their wedding, they knew they had to move back. “It was obvious both of our hearts were in the community,” he said. The couple missed their friends, but also being able to take lunch laps on the mountain in winter, then being able to walk downtown and have access to great restaurants as well as music and theater venues.

Stumpner completed his one-year commitment with Smith then turned in his notice. He says it was a leap of faith to quit a great job and return to Ketchum with one small web project. “I had no idea how to support myself and my family,” he admits. “But it’s an amazing community and once you’re connected everyone looks out for each other and makes sure people succeed.” Stumpner parlayed his connections from Smith and with a partner founded an independent web design company. A combination of factors makes Ketchum a place where entrepreneurs can thrive, he says. “Fortunately, Ketchum attracts people who were successful in their past lives and are itching to do something new and branch out,” he says. “We don’t get ski bums. We draw people with solid educational backgrounds and skills and creative ideas. And there’s a good mix of older folks here willing to invest in those ideas and talents.”

Stumpner worries that the cost of living could price out future talent. “It’s incredibly hard to buy a home here,” he says. “If you didn’t get in before the pandemic it’s really hard to afford the current cost of living. Studios are renting for $2,500.” Hailey, a town just 20 minutes south, has gotten pricey. The community of Bellevue, 17 miles south, is the last hold out for reasonable housing, he laments. The secret to making it work: side hustles. “Even people my age with successful professional careers have little side jobs to afford to live here,” he says. 

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JOEL BERNBAUM

Bernbaum is nostalgic for Sun Valley’s Wild West days of the 1970s. “Back then, ski bums could be ski bums, the cost of living was very affordable, there was no HR, and you could live and breathe the sport you love,” he says wistfully. When he arrived in Ketchum from Seattle, powder hungry and fresh out of college, he juggled multiple jobs for nearly five years before landing a coveted role with Scott. Bernbaum recalls feeling like the luckiest guy on the planet, able to align his personal passions with his career ambitions. After nine years with Scott, he went to Smith. “Looking back on those days, I got to experience two companies I have a lot of respect and admiration for,” he says. “I grew up fans of their products and got to be part of that heritage and privy to a lot of history.” 

During the pandemic, Bernbaum and his buddies found themselves working less and skiing more. “We were drinking beers and talking about what we could do to bring some stoke back to the community,” he recalls. After some Coors-drenched, après ski banter, friend, Ben Verge, suggested they bring back Reflex, a Sun Valley ski pole company started by his father, Gus Verge (also a former Scott USA employee), and three pals back in 1979. The brand was sold to Easton Sports in 1986 and then let go in the early 2000s.

Bernbaum, Verge and six others partnered up to revive the ski pole brand. All of them had full-time jobs but their pandemic project has brought back one of Sun Valley’s legacy brands in 2020. “What makes Sun Valley a great place for businesses like Scott, Smith and Reflex is that we have people who use those products every day,” he says. “The typical American skier spends six to 10 days a year on the mountain. People here average 100 days a year. It’s the perfect testing spot.” Bernbaum and his partners all raised their families in Sun Valley and collectively have been in the community close to 250 years. 

Reflex has been a true labor of love. The partners meet once a week in Reflex’s headquarters in the back half of a warehouse. “We’ve created a throwback atmosphere with Lange Girls posters on the walls, a big beer fridge, and an archive library of historic poles,” he says. Bernbaum says it’s incredibly satisfying to see locals buying Reflex poles to symbolize they’re locals. “Much like how the community embraced Smith and Scott back in the day, the community is now embracing us,” he says. The father of three says his kids hope to move back to the Ketchum area to start families. He worries how they’ll afford a place to live. “The good news is, there’s jobs here,” he says.

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CASSIE ABEL

Remaining in Ketchum rather than moving to Portland with Smith Optics was one of the most traumatic decisions of Abel’s life. But she knows it was the right one. Abel spent third grade in Ketchum and returned regularly with her family. After majoring in economics, her parents encouraged her to get some “real career experience” in big cities. She hopped from Denver to San Francisco and did everything from coaching D1 lacrosse to investment banking. While living in San Francisco, she’d make the long drive to Tahoe on weekends to ski. The pull of the mountains was impossible to resist. While crashing a friend’s ski vacation at Snowbird, she met a Smith employee. “At the end of the day, he told me I was wasting my time in the city, and I should move back to Sun Valley,” she recalls. She heeded his advice and, in 2012, joined Smith as Communications Manager. Abel freeloaded for one year until she saved enough money to buy a condo. “My $1,250 mortgage on a three-bedroom was less than what I paid to rent one room in a four-bedroom apartment in San Francisco,” she says.

She likens the Scott and Smith exodus to a wildfire. “It was devastating at first,” she says. “But in a year or two the regrowth was gorgeous. So many employees from those companies went on to launch incredible projects here.” Abel started a marketing and PR firm. Frustrated with the lack of marketing attention female athletes received, she and a partner launched Wild Rye in 2016. Abel eventually bought out her partner and now the women’s apparel company has nine full time employees and in 2022 received B Corp-certification. Abel says Sun Valley has a lot of female entrepreneurs who really serve the local community.  She notes one of the challenges start-ups face in Sun Valley is raising capital. “There are no angel investors,” she says. “Jackson has Silicon Couloir, Bend has the Bend Venture Conference, Crested Butte has Western Colorado University. We need something that facilitates entrepreneurial growth in our town.”

Abel is committed to encouraging future female entrepreneurs in the Valley, noting women get less than two percent of funding. She launched the Women-Led Wednesday sale, her version of Black Friday and Small Business Saturday, to encourage people to shop women-owned brands. Wild Rye has plans to expand into ski products that complement the brand’s base layers in 2024. She juggles her CEO duties while raising her three-year-old son. She and her husband love that they can raise their child outdoors. “He’s already mountain biking and has been on skis since he was one,” she says. “Sun Valley can be a bubble. We don’t have a lot of diversity. As he gets older, we know we’ll have to make an effort to expose him to different types of people and places to keep his world big.”

The pioneering spirit of the Old West meets the innovative drive of the modern entrepreneur in Sun Valley. From the first chairlift to the inception of many ski wear brands, the town has always been a hub of ingenuity. Despite the challenges of rising costs and limited resources, Sun Valley stands as a haven where skiers can thrive for generations to come.