This story appears in the September 2025 issue of Utah Business. Subscribe.
Peter Metcalf knows a thing or two about risk.
The New York City area native is a self-described “mountain guy” — a passionate climber and mountaineer whose sometimes treacherous ascents taught him that overcoming daunting prospects is possible with honesty, determination and focusing on one task at a time.
He exercised that same mentality when co-founding Black Diamond Equipment, the Utah-based manufacturer of climbing, skiing and mountain sports gear.
Now, decades later, Metcalf faces a new challenge: retirement. Abandon any pre-determined thoughts of relaxing on a beach or mid-day naps, though. Metcalf is still busy.
From pressure comes diamonds
Black Diamond evolved from Chouinard Equipment (founded by Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard), where Metcalf was the general manager. Based on his own climbing experience, he not only knew the products inside and out but had several ideas for improvement.
The 1980s were difficult times for the budding outdoor industry. Companies manufacturing everything from bike helmets to ladders were hit by a wave of tort action lawsuits, the impetus behind many of the product warning labels we see today.
Chouinard Equipment was no different. After facing several product-liability lawsuits and a lack of profitability, Chouinard filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Metcalf was told to liquidate the company as quickly as possible. The decision didn’t sit right with him.
“The sports of climbing, mountaineering, alpinism and skiing had forged my life since I was 11 years old, when I first got into this through the Boy Scouts in the mid-1960s,” Metcalf explains. “It defined who I was at the time and still does. … All the people I had brought into Chouinard Equipment, as the company slowly but steadily grew, were like myself, and their jobs were dependent on this.”
He was also deeply concerned about the future of mountaineering and climbing. If access to great gear wasn’t guaranteed, who would feel confident pursuing an inherently dangerous sport? At the time, advocacy groups for individual outdoor sports — The Access Fund or the Winter Wildlands Alliance, for example — didn’t exist. Metcalf was a member of this community himself, and he believed they needed a champion.
“That was the founding idea behind Black Diamond: We are going to create a company substantially owned by its employees and the community that is committed to championing the issues of great importance,” he says.
Metcalf led a group of employees and investors to purchase the company, renaming it Black Diamond Equipment and expanding its mission.
Crafting a culture of innovation
In his 20s, Metcalf attempted the most difficult climb of his life. As he puts it, “We’re lucky to have not only succeeded — but lived.”
The danger was so great that he even entrusted his brother with a letter to give to his parents in the event of his death. He knew the risk he was taking; he had lost friends to climbing disasters. Metcalf understood that you can plan and prepare for as much as possible, but there will always be objective factors out of your control. The whole point, he says, is to push yourself out of your comfort level.
It was this attitude and experience that motivated him to overcome any business challenges with creativity and intentionality. For Black Diamond, one of the first challenges was moving the company headquarters from Ventura, California, to Salt Lake City, Utah. The motivation was a mix of business strategy and personal belief.
“I wanted our retailers to see what we had invested in,” Metcalf says. “So they would know that we might be a bunch of climbers — and reasonably young, and a new company — but they should take us very seriously.”
“If you had asked me back when I went to work for this tiny little climbing equipment company, ‘Would the outdoor industry be the kind of large, iconic corporate industry it is today?’ I would have just laughed and said you’re crazy.”
— Peter Metcalf
He also believed an outdoor company should be located somewhere that matches its customers’ needs. Plus, as a climber himself, Metcalf wanted close access to public lands. Ventura might have been a good location for a surf company, but not for a bunch of climbers.
After visits to several possible locations, including a trip with all employees to get them on board, Salt Lake City was dubbed the right place. Despite not being an obvious choice to anyone else, Metcalf felt it had the potential to become a mecca for outdoor enthusiasts.
“I like to say that, at the time, Salt Lake City was a mountain town masquerading as a capital city,” Metcalf says.
Executing a drastic move like this one was new for the outdoor industry, Metcalf continues. The industry itself was still an afterthought for most people, and the idea of investing so much time and space in it was unheard of. Today, several outdoor retailers call Utah home. Metcalf and the success of Black Diamond helped lead the change, turning the mountainous headquarters from “unusual” to “the obvious thing to do.”
That spirit of innovation has worked well for Black Diamond. The brand is globally recognized for its high-quality, safety-enhancing products. According to Mark Ritchie, much of this success can be attributed to Metcalf’s infectious attitude.
“You felt as an employee that Peter was on your side, that Peter was somebody whose word could be relied on, and that Peter was there for the best interest of the customer … he created quite the compelling little community,” Ritchie says.
Ritchie joined the company after its relocation to Salt Lake and remained there for 23 years as the VP of operations and the COO after the company went public in 2010.
“The camaraderie and the desire to help drive the thing forward were ubiquitous in the employee base,” Ritchie says. “I’m not going to say that everybody got along perfectly every day of the year because certainly creativity requires some friction, but everybody was pulling in the same general direction, and I think that’s hard to find.”
Becoming one with the community
Anyone who’s been a part of Black Diamond is quick to bring up the company ethos Metcalf established: “To be one with the sports we serve, completely indistinguishable from them.”
Metcalf is a living example of that mission. His name is practically synonymous with public lands issues in Utah. He serves as the director of the Salt Lake City branch of the Federal Reserve Bank, is on the board for numerous nonprofits, and regularly authors op-eds about relevant land issues.
He was instrumental in bringing the Outdoor Retailer show to Utah, a major economic driver for the state that generates tens of millions of dollars for each of its twice-yearly shows. Twenty years later, Metcalf wrote an op-ed criticizing Utah’s “all-out assault” on public lands. He called on the show to leave the state unless they dropped efforts to reverse the Bears Ears National Monument and other public land policies. The show took a five-year hiatus and moved to Colorado, but returned to Utah in 2023.
Richard Luskin, former general counsel to Black Diamond, says the Outdoor Retailer experience cemented his opinion of Metcalf.
“It’s a big thing to put your neck and your business on the line to advance an environmental cause,” Luskin says. “It was a very bold move and an incredible model that I hope other people follow. I still hold him in the highest esteem for doing that.”
Metcalf is adamant that public and protected lands are America’s greatest idea. He refutes the idea that public lands hurt the middle and lower classes.
“In this country, the No. 1 people who hunt and fish are blue-collar workers,” Metcalf says. “It doesn’t matter what economic segment you’re from. These lands have provided great opportunities when protected for watershed, grazing, some forestry, as well as the whole outdoor tourism and recreation business that has fueled the growth of so many of these towns.”
Tackling the next summit
Ultimately, it was his growing involvement with advocacy that motivated Metcalf to announce his departure from Black Diamond in 2015. He felt that, without protected lands, there would be no future for the sports he’d helped build.
“I wanted to focus on something more sustainable,” Metcalf says.
Departing from Black Diamond wasn’t so much a retirement as it was pivoting his focus. For the last few years, he’s been busier than ever — at one point juggling six different calendars of meetings for nonprofits and other advocacy projects.
“I basically moved from one 65-hour-a-week job to another 65-hour-a-week job,” Metcalf says. He likens it to going from piloting a single jet where everyone reported to him, to becoming a member of a flight crew on six different planes.
Then, two years ago, Metcalf decided it was time to shift focus once again. He was faced with the reality that his health and fitness wouldn’t be around forever, and there was more to life than juggling calendars and meetings.
“I need to do more savoring,” he decided. “I’m going to start ratcheting down my work and make more time to do these activities, and also build up the relationships I’ve had with so many gear, climbing and ski buddies.”
It was time to move away from the gravitational force of Black Diamond and the related activism. Today, he meets with friends regularly. He’s not on as many boards and is picky about what special projects he takes on — including for Black Diamond, where he still does advisory and brand ambassador work.
What does Metcalf want to do with his time now? He mentioned reading through the book collection he’s amassed (his wife calls it his “Library of Congress”). He may even write one himself. Of course, he’s also fitting in as much climbing as he can, though not of the same caliber as before.
“I have no desire to sacrifice the number of years I have left on a climb,” he says.
Moving from the intense hustle of business culture to a more deliberate use of one’s time isn’t simple. “It’s not a binary switch we can just flip,” Metcalf says. “I think we lack a word, or enough words, in English to describe what happens when we transition from what we’ve been doing for [decades]. It’s not like one day we’re at work and the next we’re sitting in a recliner … or on a cruise.”
“Evolution” might be a good description for Metcalf’s journey over the last few years. Life holds greater meaning for him now, and he values all its different parts. Even so, he finds it difficult to truly take it easy. It’s not in his nature. He admits that he may still be guilty of overcommitting — not to business ventures, but to a life of back-to-back trips and days of biking, climbing and mountaineering.
“How am I living right now? Like I’m running out of time — because I am,” he says. “And I think it’s out of recognition that, especially with my health and vibrancy, I don’t know how long that’s going to last at this level.”
Pondering legacy
Throughout our phone interview, I heard birdsong in the background. I joked that it would make listening to the recording enjoyable, and Metcalf chuckled.
“When I get on a phone call, whenever possible, I like to walk. Especially on a beautiful day,” he says. That might tell you everything you really need to know about Metcalf: Outside is where he’s always been most comfortable, and he managed to turn it into a career. He’s spent his life not just enjoying the outdoors, but working to protect it.
Despite the industry and cause not always loving him back, Metcalf has continually been at the forefront of turning it into the $1.2 trillion industry we recognize today.
“If you had asked me back when I went to work for this tiny little climbing equipment company, ‘Would the outdoor industry be the kind of large, iconic corporate industry it is today?’ I would have just laughed and said you’re crazy,” Metcalf says. “I am both in awe of where the industry is, and its size and its participation, and in shock at where American politics are related to these issues.”
Despite the decades spent building Black Diamond, Metcalf understands that legacy is more than the company. Businesses come and go, and while he’s extremely proud of what he built, he believes there’s value in helping create a world that future generations can enjoy.
“His legacy is all the people’s lives he’s affected and inspired,” Luskin says.
A new kind of risk
Metcalf has spent the greater part of his life working to spread his love of the outdoors. Now, he’s taking time to enjoy it. We’re not done hearing from him when it comes to advocacy or business, but don’t be surprised if you run into him while climbing in the Dolomites or biking in the canyon.
His other primary focus right now? Family.
Metcalf is candid about the fact that all those years of work meant he didn’t spend much time with his kids, saying Black Diamond was treated as “the favorite child.” Now he’s intent on nurturing those relationships and cultivating new ones with his grandkids.
“I have a granddaughter … who I’ve gotten into climbing and river running and all sorts of outdoor stuff,” he says.
Once a mountain guy, always a mountain guy.
