
Housekeeping Didn't Come
Lessons from the road, the classroom, and the minibar.
Welcome to Housekeeping Didn’t Come — where hospitality, adventure, and a little chaos all check in for the night.
Hosted by Rob W. Powell, former casino exec, improv comic, mountaineer, and hospitality professor (aka the Indiana Jones of hospitality education), this podcast dives into the wild, weird, and wonderfully human side of the hospitality world. From luxury lodges to national park cabins, cruise ships to classroom chaos, we explore what it really takes to deliver unforgettable guest experiences—and what happens when things go hilariously off script.
Whether you're a student, a hospitality pro, a curious traveler, or just here for the stories, you'll find something to love. Expect candid interviews, bite-sized insights, unforgettable blunders, and the kind of wisdom that only comes from years in the trenches (and a few nights without housekeeping).
So grab a coffee (or a cocktail), and join Rob as he unpacks the business of making people feel welcome, even when the bed isn’t made.
Housekeeping Didn't Come
The Bear Ate My Toilet Paper: Tales From Remote Lodge Management S1E5
Remote lodge management combines breathtaking natural experiences with challenging operational realities that most people never consider. Running a wilderness property demands mastery of logistics, staffing, seasonal finances, and safety protocols while still delivering exceptional hospitality.
• Logistics rule everything in remote settings – a delayed toilet paper shipment due to a bear sitting on it exemplifies the unpredictable supply challenges
• Staff management requires creating a cohesive culture when employees live and work together in isolation with limited amenities
• Remote teams need more than management – they need community-building activities like themed karaoke nights to maintain morale
• Most lodges generate 100% of annual revenue in just 12 weeks, requiring disciplined financial management
• Safety protocols must be comprehensive as managers are liable even in wilderness settings
• Despite challenges, remote properties command premium rates ($500+ for glamping tents) and deliver bucket-list experiences
• Successful wilderness hospitality professionals combine grit with exceptional problem-solving skills and a sense of humor
If you've ever dreamed of running a beautiful lodge in the middle of nowhere, today's episode is for you. Welcome to Hospitality. Didn't Come where hospitality, adventure and business collide. I'm Rob Powell, entrepreneur, adventure traveler and hospitality instructor at the University of Arkansas Hospitality Management Program. You know the fantasy the mountains, the sunrise, the wildlife, the spreadsheets. Wait, what am I? I don't think spreadsheets are really in that fantasy. But yes, turns out, paradise still runs on inventory, labor, scheduling and enough duct tape to hold together a three-season plumbing system.
Speaker 1:Let's talk about what really happens when you're managing a remote lodge and why it's one of the toughest and most rewarding gigs in hospitality. Let me start with logistics. They rule everything Now in the city. If you forget to order linens or something like that, excuse me, supplier delivers the same day. One call, they're there In a remote operation. Forget to order linens, they arrive on the next barge if the lake's not frozen and the pilot doesn't get distracted by a moose. True story I once had a shipment of toilet paper delayed because a bear sat on it. Literally the entire pallet Flattened bear walked away very satisfied. My guests not so much. The lesson here plan like you're prepping for winter on game of thrones.
Speaker 1:The second point and this is a critical one is staffing. It's a function of recruiting, housing and sometimes stand-up comedy. When you hire for a remote lodge, you're not just filling positions, you're forming a campfire cult. Staff live on property, often bunked together, and share exactly one communal Wi-Fi router that works when the wind blows east or it decides to actually operate. Now let me tell you a story here.
Speaker 1:I was contracted with this company that had a lodge deep in the Rockies. It was a beautiful place, total dead zone. Staff shared bunk houses, one microwave and that mythical Wi-Fi router that only worked if you stood on one leg and whispered into a pine cone. She was bright-eyed, spreadsheet-ready, hospitality school top grad. On day four she called me in a panic Rob, I think I'm losing the staff. They've formed factions. One guy keeps calling himself the cabin king. Turns out the breakfast cook. A 19-year-old ski bum named Tyler started holding impromptu cabin meetings with chants like no eggs, no peace. Morale was unraveling, staff were bickering about chores, roommate assignments and who used the last of the oat milk. The Wi-Fi was down again and someone had locked the staff fridge with a personal bike lock.
Speaker 1:So what does Sarah do? Intelligently, she throws a karaoke night. Intelligently, she throws a karaoke night. Not just any karaoke full theme, lumberjack legends, plaid shirts, pancakes and a rule that everyone had to sing or clean the bathrooms for a week. By the second round of Bon Jovi and Dolly Parton, the whole place was in tears, laughing, hugging. Someone even proposed a new lodge constitution. From then on, every Saturday was karaoke night. Morale went up and Tyler he became head of the guest activities still calls himself the cabin king.
Speaker 1:Moral of that story is remote lodge teams don't need just management, they need culture and they need laughter. Every once in a while they need to sing Jolene and flannel pajamas. Now, if you don't do these things, if you don't build a tight culture, if you don't give folks breathing room and, of course, occasionally throw in a karaoke night, you're not managing, you're refereeing. I tell all my University of Arkansas students remote GMs are part therapist, part cruise director and part hostage negotiator and somehow still smiling at the breakfast buffet. The third point I want to mention is seasonality, or budgeting for bipolar weather and, of course, revenue. Most of these lodges run hot for 12 weeks and hibernate for the rest of the year. Let me translate that that means you make 100% of your money in one quarter. You spend the next nine months talking to your accountant and questioning your life choices. Now, great operators. They will bank profits aggressively, they will prepay for future repairs and they get really, really good at their spreadsheets. One operator I knew ran a whiteboard labeled July equals champagne, february equals ramen.
Speaker 1:The fourth point is safety and reliability, and this one's Very serious. You have to sleep with one eye open. If you're deep in the woods or extremely remote, you are still liable. Wilderness medical training is a must. Risk protocols have to be airtight and, yes, you'll file a state report if a guest attempts to pet a buffalo, and I'll tell you right now. They always do.
Speaker 1:Here's a pro trip, here's a pro tip. Train your staff like you're, preparing them for both hospitality and search and rescue, because some days it will be both. Despite all of this, it's worth it. The stories, the guests, the margin. These properties deliver high ADR. They deliver premium packages and built in bragging rights. Guests pay top dollar for a room, a view and a sense of survival. You're not just hosting them, you're helping them cross off something off their bucket list, and it's not just fulfilling. It's profitable.
Speaker 1:Next week I'm going out to review a glamping setup in the hill country of Texas. They're getting close to $500 ADR for a tent. Let me tell you I'm anxious to see that one. The bottom line here running a remote lodge is like climbing Kilimanjaro every season Only, instead of altitude sickness, you battle supply chain delays, frozen pipes and staff who forgot to lock up the cooler and let the raccoons in again. But if you've got grit, curiosity and the ability to smile while holding a plunger, this might just be the best job in the world. I hope you enjoyed this. Look forward to seeing you next time.