Sporting goods stores an endangered species

One of the advantages of going to college in northern Utah was the access I had to a number of true sporting goods stores located within minutes from campus and home.

As a rule, these stores weren’t large compared to department stores, but they always seemed to have what I needed when it came time to catch fish, bag pheasants or put a tag on a mature bull elk. Not that I ever put a tag on a mature bull elk, but I always could get what I needed just in case one happened to walk by during hunting season.

If I needed to know what the fish were hitting on at a particular body of water, all I had to do was stop by one of those true sporting goods stores and ask the person behind the counter.

They always seemed to know exactly what I needed and didn’t try to sell me something that was working somewhere in the Midwest. Their answer to my inquiry often started out like this: “I was fishing XYZ Creek just the other day, and this is what worked for me.” And they usually were right.

Not every store that carried the sporting goods label qualified as a true sporting goods store. That label belonged to those establishments where fishing tackle, rifles, shotguns and assorted hunting paraphernalia accounted for more display area than clothes made of brightly colored Spandex and other body-hugging, stretchy stuff. Come to think of it, you wouldn’t find those items in a true sporting goods store.

One of my first memories of being in a real sporting goods store is about one that was located in downtown Salt Lake City. My father had taken me with him to pick up something we needed for a camping trip. I was a small child and can’t remember the name of the store, but I do remember the heavy odor of canvas that emanated from the tent display and permeated the establishment. Even now, the smell of canvas brings that memory to mind.

Those of you who have been around awhile might be thinking, “Yeah, I remember those days.” You might even be thinking of that little sporting goods store back home, the one where everyone knew you by name. Those stores are few and far between and becoming scarcer all the time. This is especially true in communities the size of Las Vegas and Salt Lake City.

Taking their place are the big box stores of the sporting goods world, such as Cabela’s and Bass Pro Shops — stores where shopping has been made into an “experience.”

While in Reno last week, a friend and I walked through the Cabela’s store that opened in mid-November. As we walked into the 125,000- square-foot showroom, my eyes were drawn immediately to an African elephant and the associated diorama that dominated the center of the showroom floor.

Not unlike our local Bass Pro Shop, the Cabela’s store houses more than 400 life-size animal mounts in museum-quality dioramas. The dioramas depict the animals in their native habitat. There is even a Yukon moose mounted so that the animal is standing in water with live trout swimming through its legs.

For bighorn sheep enthusiasts, the store is home to a collection that represents the “mountain sheep of the world.” This collection is unique to the Reno store and includes Siberian and Himalayan ibex, aoudad, China’s blue sheep, Marco Polo sheep and the Argali species. Nevada’s desert bighorn are included as part of what Cabela’s calls Conservation Mountain. There you’ll see mule deer, elk and black bears, as well as other critters of the wild.

The store also boasts an indoor archery range, a high-end gun library, an aquarium full of freshwater fish and a restaurant that features wild-game sandwiches. Naturally, the store is home to thousands of outdoor-related products that range from clothing to fishing tackle, from shoes to firearms.

But as we left the store, I couldn’t help but think of the traditional sporting goods stores and about their future. Then I realized there always will be a place for those true sporting goods stores where the people know your name and the people who work there know what the fish are biting on.

Doug Nielsen is an award-winning freelance writer and a conservation educator for the Nevada Department of Wildlife. His column is published Thursday. He can be reached at doug@takinitoutside.com.