Cliffs on Aisle 3

Don’t look now, cowgirl, but that state over there’s giving you the eye.

It’s got palomino-colored plains that unfurl to the Dakotas and mid-size mountain ranges that bump Idaho. Glacier and Yellowstone national parks accessorize its borders. Everywhere there is water.

If Montana, now 114 years old, is finally getting a bit full of itself, it’s righteous egomania. In about 147,000 square miles it possesses a stunning natural inventory. If states were stores Montana would be a big box (albeit without the global labels) stacked to its swoosh clouds with paycheck-depleting possibilities.

But the truth is, in the hot business sector of adventure retailing, the Treasure State remains an emerging brand in the West. It wants your money, and in these parts the competition is mighty. Hard-charging Utah and Colorado have long been smart sellers. They understand that they’re as much a specialty store as any upscale brick-and-mortar space. Packaged discriminately according to season, their sun-washed assortment of goods -- rock, river, powder -- lodges in the psyche of adventure-buyers. Among select tribes, Utah and even its mountain-biking mecca Moab strike a mental connection as formidable as Banana Republic.

For years, Montana simply touted its size and scenery: Big Sky Country and all that. Now, it’s flaunting specific assets not only as eye candy but also as context for entry-level outdoorsmanship -- as products. Now, it’s betting on the bleached cliffs along the “wild and scenic” Missouri River and other sites to mirror the identity of customers flipping through Outside and National Geographic Adventure magazines.

“They can put themselves in these pictures,” says Sarah Lawlor, consumer marketing manager for Travel Montana.

Nevada too is working like an underdog these days to catch on as an axle-breaking adventure brand. Its 2004 multimedia “Wide Open” campaign portrays the state as a “primal playground” (i.e., monster tires OK) that offers “hard” adventure, such as mountain biking, rock climbing, off-roading and camping in the barren Valley of Fire where, surprise, there’s “no one for miles.” In keeping with the state’s racy character, the print slogan reads: “Mission: Double shot of God’s country with a Las Vegas chaser.”

Arguably God’s favorite state, Wyoming filters its wildly diverse terrain through an illustrator this year in a nostalgic ad series that confidently assumes some insider knowledge of the state’s adventure stock and, like the endemic split-rail fence, evokes earnestness and authenticity.

But look at Texas, which many outsiders mistakenly regard as a topographically challenged state. Its ad targeting hikers and backcountry campers subliminally corrects the record, as if to say, “C’mon, y’all, we’ve got an elevation change.”

Meanwhile, in the Northwest, Oregon zooms in on the Columbia River Gorge, a premier destination for sailboarders and the contested target of a proposed resort development. And neighbor Washington has been reading up on national outdoors-participation research, which registers an uptick in wildlife watching. (Birders alone number more than 17 million in this country, and Arizona’s current ad portfolio includes a call to bird watchers.) Playing up its reputation as a nurturing earth mother of eight precious ecosystems, Washington plops a photo of breaching orcas alongside small print that promises: “If it runs, flies, hops or swims, odds are you’ll find it here.”

Read between the lines: Outdoors consumption demands the same sort of ethical choices we face in shopping for cheap jeans. For once, though, it’s easy to buy American.

Times staff writer Leslie Carlson contributed to this report.