Moving on from Rocky Mountain to my Back Porch

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I had always been a bicycle guy, a CEO, from a very young age. I was on a 30-year ride, from West Point Cycles, all the way to starting Race Face Components. In each company, my staff and I were united by shared passions of building great bikes. But that passion extended to weekends, when together we disappeared into the mountains for all day rides. People marveled that we could take on so much, thriving on action and momentum. The staff I worked with were proud of what we had, and for many of us, it was more than a job – it was home. All my time was spent focused on these relationships, rooted in my work. I left only a little margin for my family. There was no time for friends or to develop a personal life.

But then it all came to an end. Between 1997 to 2000, both my companies were sold. The aftermath was uncharted territory for me. What was I supposed to do? When the bike business ended, so did my sense of home. I no longer had a seat at the table, no value to add to the conversations that once defined me. I had always measured myself by “bikes, it’s what I do,” and when that identity was stripped away, so was my bicycle “family”. The silence was deafening: no office visits, no emails, no calls. I realized my investment in acceptance in the bike community was based on my value as CEO. I lived for their acceptance, and I died inside with their rejection.

I was doing everything I could to avoid stepping away from the world of biking. I worked on starting the first Bicycle Trade Association, the first Canadian designed hub-drive E-Cruiser bike, and even tried to stay on as a consultant at Rocky. But deep down, I knew I was holding onto a version of myself that no longer existed.

As I walked through the years after the bicycle business, I couldn’t seem to find a fit for my skills and accomplishments. I told myself, “Move on, and do it soon Grayson. You’ve been trying to do this bike thing, but now you need to get yourself a job!”

But first I had to uncover what this overwhelming sense was of feeling lost. I had crossed a huge expanse, from being accepted as a leader in two companies to insecurity and ambiguity.

I had to create a new scenario that would push me hard to reassess my life. So on winter-cold, rainy days, I took my morning coffee and bundled up warm in a jacket and blanket. I’d sit for hours in chilly and sunny weather on the back porch with my journal, business magazines, and cell phone to try to piece together a second act. It would have been easier to go out and get a job. But the back porch was where I faced honest self-examination.

It wasn’t easy—painful, even, and undeniably strange at times, but as I now realize, I was taking the first step to really embracing my family and friends. Each time I came in from the porch, pining over the past, thinking over a new project, or worried about my financial health, these people were my lifeline. Through intentional actions of care, they offered me connection and support.

Through these connections, my wanderings into a new career began. Each project started with good friends, ambition and of course, there was still my ego. From construction to charity to tea, consulting for me has evolved into something far deeper and more fulfilling. I have found a sense of inner balance by collaborating with friends to launch their ventures, whether businesses or charities. Without the sharp edges of running my own company as CEO, I have come to recognize a quiet yet powerful voice within me that is rooted in relationships.

I now mix ambition with a desire to add value to other leaders and witness their growth and success. There’s a delight in helping others navigate their journeys, mentoring and consulting where I can, and celebrating their wins alongside them. I’m learning to embrace the uncertainty of what roles friends and family may invite me into next, welcoming new connections to learn how I can care.

You might be thinking, “That sounds vague and impractical—how does that sustain you?” Yes, it is unconventional, yet it works. This approach has not only enriched my relationships but also sustained me financially in surprising ways. Relationships have allowed me to rediscover and repurpose skills that seemed lost after Rocky. It is harder to predict where business and relationships will lead, but it is a new and unexpectedly fulfilling chapter of my life.

In the months ahead, I will introduce you to some of these remarkable friends, where I have built connections that not only sustain me financially but inspire me to reimagine what’s possible personally. I’ll explore how in a business and in community we can create, collaborate, and care in ways that ripple outward.

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​I would love to connect with you on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Instagram.

See you next week,

Grayson

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