Summary

The author recounts their decision to decline a company-sponsored retreat in Stanley, Idaho, due to a preference for personal space and comfort over forced corporate bonding activities.

Abstract

The author, a seasoned professional in healthcare and consulting, describes their experience with a corporate retreat in Stanley, Idaho, that was mandatory for leadership. Despite the beauty of the location, the author expresses dissatisfaction with the idea of being compelled to share close quarters with strangers in rustic cabins, contrary to the luxurious accommodations they expected. The retreat included extreme outdoor activities predominantly appealing to a male audience, which the author found unappealing. After a night in a shared cabin, the author arranged for a solo stay, ultimately choosing to leave the retreat early, questioning the value of such events when real work was left undone. The incident led to a realization about the importance of researching event details in advance and the right to opt-out of uncomfortable situations.

Opinions

The author views mandatory corporate team-building events and retreats as an imposition rather than a perk.
The author finds the concept of 'forced fun' with colleagues in a vacation setting to be unappealing, especially when it involves sharing close living quarters.
There is a clear disdain for the assumption that all employees will enjoy extreme outdoor activities as a form of team building.
The author believes that the retreat's environment and activities were not inclusive, particularly for the few female participants.
The author implies that the retreat was more of a 'manference' catering to the interests of male colleagues.
The decision to leave the retreat early was driven by a preference for personal comfort, productivity, and the need to return to actual work responsibilities.
The experience reinforced the author's belief in the importance of setting personal boundaries and the right to decline corporate events that do not align with one's values or comfort levels.

WORK | LIFE | CORPORATE CULTURE

Who Turns Down A Free Vacation to Stanley, Idaho? Me, That’s Who

Corporate retreats and forced fun with strangers

Leezsnow via Getty Signature Images, CanvaPro

Time to throw in the towel

Finally, I said ‘No’ to corporate team-building, management retreats, and other mandatory after-hours events for the sake of a job.

Sorry, folks, but being forced to mini-vacation with people I would never intentionally spend discretionary time with is not a perk, no matter how you try to sell it.

Having spent decades working in health care and consulting, I do not miss that environment. It was time; I was getting too old — too set in my ways.

Frankly, running Mach I with my hair on fire for years, I was no longer amenable to going along with the crowd like I was in the early days.

Besides, I got tired of doing ‘The Lemming Schlep’ — traveling for business.

Corporate conference turns to fun with Dick and Jane

Back in the day, one consulting company I worked for held their annual leadership meeting in Stanley, Idaho, a beautiful place. What’s not to love about Stanley and the Sawtooth Mountains?

Nothing at all. Stanley is breathtakingly gorgeous — but it’s not for me, as it turns out.

Our memorable ‘retreat’

After my plane touched down in Boise, I schlepped my luggage through the concourse and boarded the van for transport to our company’s headquarters. Fellow consultants nationwide were scheduled to convene for a meet and greet there that afternoon.

After introductions and light hors d’oeuvres in the meeting room, we shuttled off to attend a dinner hosted by the company president at his opulent ultra-modern home.

The scenery was stunning as we sat outside watching the sun go down on his 101-degree patio with a sweeping view of the foothills of the Boise Mountains.

Chris Ryan from Photo Images via CanvaPro

With dinner concluded, we piled back into the van for a 132-mile ride through the Boise National Forest to check in at the ‘retreat center’ in Stanley.

By now, I was more than weary from the traveling, schlepping, heat, and too much ‘peopling.’ All I wanted to do was relax in my hotel room.

Surprise, surprise, surprise. Rather than arriving at a nice hotel with corporate amenities, we pulled into our 28-degree destination: Lost Mountaineer Cabins (not their real name).

Their website said it all:

Lost Mountaineer Cabins is the perfect base camp for your vacation adventure. Each of our cozy standalone cabin rentals boasts a rustic charm that dates back to when the logs were first stacked back in the 1960s

Image: Leezsnow via Getty Signature Images, from author’s CanvaPro

Wait, what?

Things became even more ‘interesting’ as names were called, and we were paired for our cabin assignments.

Whoa! So, let me get this straight. The practice management company charging physician practices beau coup bucks for my services is expecting me to sleep in a rustic log cabin — with only one bathroom and beds placed within spitting distance of each other — with a total stranger?

Oh, no, no, no, my dear. Girlfriend won’t be doing that.

There was a bit of humor here, though. As would only happen to me in such a situation, my cabin was ironically named something very close to “Hell’s Last Mile.”

Annual meeting or just an excuse for a ‘manference’?

Little did I know that the group of consultants (95% men) had arrived not only for corporate updates and supposed education sessions but for ‘team building’ events — extreme mountain biking, white-water rafting, hiking, horseback riding, rock climbing, skydiving, and more.

Insert the SNL soundtrack of Dana Carvey imitating George Bush, with his index fingers pointed in the air, saying, “Not … Gonna … Do … It.”

With only two female consultants and one corporate administrative assistant, it wasn’t considered that this may not be our idea of bonding.

Great …

The Good Old Boy network is alive and well

I couldn’t run away at this point. It was already well past midnight, so I had no choice but to stay the night — but I decided to risk making waves and insist on a cabin alone.

The company president’s admin swapped her private cabin with me and bunked with the other female consultant, who was an outdoorsy Idaho native as well.

After a good night’s sleep, I awoke refreshed to find sunrise, frosty air, and the energy to tackle a new day.

After thanking them for the lovely ride in the van with ‘the boys,’ I arranged for a rental car, drove 132 miles back to Boise, paid the fee for changing my airline tickets, and boarded a plane back to Seattle.

After all, someone needed to get back to work and get something done. Isn’t that what we were charging the client practices exorbitant fees for?

There’s always a lesson

I could say so much more, but there’s no need. Suffice it to say that I learned a valuable lesson that day. Here’s what I learned:

Don’t be lazy. Don’t unthinkingly assume the ‘conference’ you’re going to will be like others you’ve attended.
Ferret the details about your accommodations well in advance — in time to opt-out if necessary.
Don’t assume the ‘Retreat Center’ is a hotel with comfortable meeting rooms and an urban feel like McCormick Place in Chicago.
Then, and only then, decide if you will attend.

And the band played on

I’m sure there was a bit of buzz after it became apparent I was MIA for roundtable discussions, but the conference continued without a hitch after I left.

The Consultant’s newsletter we received the following week contained a glowing and informative write-up, complete pictures of all the many adventure activities and bonding moments.

“And a good time was had by all.”