What happened to Outside magazine?
The Great Corporate Avalanche (and Other Mildly Terrifying Metaphors)
Once a scrappy guide to scaling cliffs and surviving bear encounters, Outside magazine took a tumble down the corporate scree slope. In 2021, Pocket Outdoor Media (later rebranded as Outside Inc.) swallowed the publication like a hungry marmot hoarding trail mix. The new owners promised “synergy,” which, in outdoor terms, translates to “we’re duct-taping 20 niche brands together and hoping it survives a light drizzle.” Cue layoffs, editorial shakeups, and readers wondering if their favorite campfire-read was now written by algorithms trained on granola bars.
From Trail Maps to Paywalls: The Membership Model Experiment
Outside Inc. decided the future was a $99-a-year “All-Access Pass”—a bold move, considering most hikers just want to know if that snake in their tent is venomous. Suddenly, the magazine’s website morphed into a gated community where even “10 Best Waterproof Socks” articles required a secret handshake (or a credit card). Longtime subscribers felt like they’d packed for a serene backpacking trip… only to find themselves on a Times Square zip line.
- RIP Print Issues: Quarterly “special editions” replaced monthly magazines, because nothing says “urgent survival tips” like waiting three months.
- Content Glow-Up: More listicles about CBD gummies, fewer investigative pieces on public lands. Priorities!
- The Irony: A magazine once about escaping screens now wants you to download their app. Cool cool cool.
“Is This Thing Still Alive?” (Asking for a Friend with a Compass)
Outside’s still kicking, but it’s wearing a different pair of boots. The brand now peddles podcasts, insurance plans, and a TV network, because why read about kayaking when you can watch someone kayak… while filing a claim for lost kayaks? Loyalists mourn the loss of grit, but hey—at least the hot takes on Yeti coolers are fire. The magazine’s essence? Somewhere between a corporate retreat trust fall and that one sock you lost on the Appalachian Trail. Allegedly.
What is the best outdoor magazine?
Ah, the age-old question that’s sparked more debates than “is a hot dog a sandwich?” and “why do squirrels look like they’re plotting something?” rolled into one. The “best” outdoor magazine depends on whether you’re the type to summit mountains before breakfast or the kind who considers “hiking” to be the walk from your car to the glampsite Wi-Fi hub. Let’s dive into the wonderfully weird world of ink-and-paper outdoor glory.
For the “I Survived a Bear Hug” Crowd
If your idea of fun involves wrestling topography and eating freeze-dried meals that taste vaguely of existential dread, Outside or Backpacker might be your spirit animal. These magazines are like that one friend who “accidentally” leads you up a cliff at 3 a.m.—packed with trail guides, gear reviews, and stories that make you question your life choices (in a good way). Pro tip: Their advice on “how to survive a moose standoff” pairs well with a sturdy running pace.
- Field & Stream: Where fishing tales and hunting tips meet *questionable* campfire recipes.
- Climbing: For folks who think gravity is more of a suggestion.
- National Geographic Adventure: Basically a passport for your couch.
For the “Glamping with Goats” Enthusiast
Prefer your wilderness with a side of artisanal firewood and a charcuterie board? Magazines like Garden & Gun or Modern Farmer cater to the “outdoorsy-but-civilized” crowd. Think: profiles on heirloom tomato growers, essays about the zen of fly-fishing, and DIY instructions for building a birdhouse that’s nicer than your studio apartment. Bonus points if the photos make you whisper, “I could totally do that… if I had a trust fund.”
For Gearheads Who Speak in Waterproof Ratings
If you’ve ever argued about the merits of merino wool vs. synthetic fibers at a dinner party (RIP your social life), Outside or REI Co-op Journal will fuel your obsession. These mags are 50% gear porn, 50% existential odes to dirt, and 100% likely to make you buy a $400 tent you’ll use twice. They’re the literary equivalent of that guy at the trailhead who whispers, “Nice socks… are those Darn Tough?”
So, what’s the best outdoor magazine? The one that makes you forget your Netflix password. Or at least convinces your cat you’re interesting.
What are the big three outdoor magazines?
The Outdoor Magazine Trinity (No Hiking Boots Required)
When it comes to outdoor mags, three titans dominate the campfire conversation like a yeti in a snowstorm: Outside, Backpacker, and Field & Stream. Think of them as the Holy Grail, Holy Grill, and Holy Trail of outdoor media. These publications have survived everything from bear attacks to the existential crisis of “do we really need another article about merino wool?” Let’s unpack them like a overstuffed hiking bag full of questionable trail mix.
Outside Magazine: For People Who Think Basecamp is a Verb
Outside is the Patagonia-clad, kale-eating, marathon-hiking cousin who’s equally likely to summit Kilimanjaro or Instagram a artisanal s’more. This mag blends adventure porn with “how to survive a moose ambush” tips, all while subtly reminding you that your couch is judging you. Highlights include:
- Gear reviews for items you’ll *definitely* use once.
- Profiles of people who’ve kayaked to work since 2003.
- Aesthetic photos of cliffs that whisper, “Jump… but tag us first.”
Backpacker: Because Your Tent *Definitely* Needs a PhD
If outdoor magazines had a Type A personality, Backpacker would be stress-testing a titanium spork right now. This is the publication for folks who treat trails like spreadsheets—optimized, color-coded, and with a 5-star Yelp review. Expect:
- Topographic maps that double as modern art.
- Debates on “is hiking in Crocs a felony?” (Yes.)
- Instructions for building a fire with two sticks and existential dread.
Field & Stream: Where Flannel Meets Philosophy
Field & Stream is the wise uncle of outdoor mags—the one who can field-dress a deer, quote Thoreau, and argue about釣魚 rights over a bourbon. It’s unapologetically rustic, with a side of “I swear this story about a 50-pound catfish is true.” Perks include:
- Recipes for venison chili that’ll make you weep (from spice or regret?).
- Tutorials on outsmarting squirrels (they’re winning).
- Ads for trucks bigger than your apartment.
Together, these three form the outdoor media Voltron, ready to inspire, inform, and make you question why you ever thought sleeping on rocks was a good idea.
Who is the parent company of outside magazine?
If you thought *Outside Magazine* was raised by wolves in a remote canyon, foraging for granola and trail mix, you’re half right. The real answer is slightly less feral but equally intriguing. The magazine’s parent company is Outside Integrated Media, Inc. (now known as Outside Inc.), a corporate metamorphosis that sounds like it involved a boardroom séance chanting “synergy” while someone frantically Googled “how to merge with a hiking boot.”
From Pocket Outdoors to Corporate Mad Libs
Here’s the twist: Before it became Outside Inc., the parent company was called Pocket Outdoor Media—a name that either suggests a tiny camping gadget or a clandestine group of executives trading energy bars in a dark alley. In 2021, they acquired *Outside Magazine* and promptly renamed themselves, because why stick with a sensible name when you can awkwardly graft your new acquisition’s brand onto your LinkedIn profile? The rebranding process likely involved:
- Step 1: Buy a magazine synonymous with dirt, sweat, and alpine vistas.
- Step 2: Slap its name on your corporation like a bumper sticker on a Subaru.
- Step 3: Profit? (Or at least write “Outdoor Lifestyle” in Comic Sans on the annual report.)
Today, Outside Inc. is less a “parent company” and more a collective of outdoor-obsessed squirrels hoarding content nuts. They also own *Gaia GPS*, *Warren Miller Entertainment*, and *athleteReg*—because nothing says “media empire” like a race registration platform and a ski film producer sharing a Zoom call with a hiking app.
So, next time you flip through *Outside Magazine*, remember: Behind those glossy pages of tent reviews and existential trail essays lies a corporate entity that probably has a meeting titled “How to Monetize Wanderlust (Again).” Just don’t ask if their office has a rock-climbing wall. (It does. Obviously.)
