John Kuntz

My Story

I didn’t set out to build a company.

I set out to paddle.

I grew up in Illinois and earned a degree in Forest Management, drawn early to landscapes and wild places. After college, I spent four years working in the computer industry before moving to Washington in the early 1980s. The Pacific Northwest changed everything. The water was cold. The coastline was complex. The rivers were powerful. And kayaking became more than a pastime—it became a way of life.

In 1986, I started teaching whitewater kayaking in Kitsap County under the name Olympic Kayak Company. I wasn’t trying to create a retail brand. I simply wanted to teach people how to move confidently through current, how to read water, and how to respect it. The instruction came first. The shop followed.

Over time, Olympic Outdoor Center grew into something much larger than I imagined. We expanded into retail, tours, youth programs, rentals, and biking. We weathered recessions. We closed locations. We opened new ones. We adapted. Twice, we came close to losing everything. Twice, we rebuilt and grew stronger.

Those seasons taught me more than any successful year ever did.

But the real legacy isn’t the locations or the inventory. It’s the people.

Over four decades, we’ve hired more than 400 young people between the ages of 16 and 21. Many arrived unsure of themselves. Many left with confidence, responsibility, and direction. Today, we’re hiring the children of our earliest employees. Watching that generational continuity unfold has meant more to me than any business milestone.

Beyond Olympic Outdoor Center, I’ve spent much of my life exploring rivers across the Pacific Northwest and the greater Columbia Basin—paddling the Columbia, Snake, Kootenay, and Pend Oreille Rivers from source to confluence. Those journeys weren’t about conquest. They were about understanding scale, humility, and the rhythm of moving water. Rivers have a way of shrinking ego and sharpening perspective.

As I look toward the next chapter, my focus is shifting from leading every trip to documenting the story—of the rivers, of the business, and of the community that has grown around both. The goal now isn’t expansion for its own sake. It’s stewardship. Preservation. Mentorship.

I still believe time outside builds something essential in people. Confidence. Judgment. Resilience. Community.

Olympic Outdoor Center has always been a vehicle for that belief.

Forty years in, I’m grateful—for the rivers, for the staff who have carried the mission forward, and for the thousands who have trusted us with their first strokes, first rides, and first adventures.

The water is still cold.
The current is still strong.

And there is still work worth doing.