Clif Bar a Contender in Energy-Snack Race

Three years into a seven-year lease, Clif Bar has outgrown its space.

Makeshift workstations are crammed into corners, people share desks and the cubicle-free cavernous office bustles.

It’s a long way from Gary Erickson’s mother’s kitchen, where 10 years ago he and Lisa Thomas invented the chewable, all-natural bar.

In 1987, PowerBar owned the market with its hard, foil-wrapped bars. But some complained that the bars turned gooey in the heat and hard as rock in the cold.

Erickson swore on a 175-mile bike ride that he couldn’t stomach another one. He knew there had to be a way to squeeze more taste into a high-carbohydrate, high-protein, low-fat snack.

He and Thomas, also a cyclist, already were in business together, renting out facilities at a bakery after hours to make calzone and cookies they sold at local delis and shops. They went back into the kitchen to create a better bar.

“Our bar is not the standard corporate bar. . . . It came out of my mom’s kitchen,” Erickson said. “It’s our sweat and blood that went into the whole feel of that.”

The bar is even named after Erickson’s father.

Each Clif Bar has about 250 calories, two to six grams of fat and four to 12 grams of protein, which is comparable to PowerBar’s 230 calories, two to 2 1/2 grams of fat and 10 grams of protein.

But Clif Bar, which looks like a cross between a cookie and a granola bar, is the antithesis of the taffy-like PowerBar.

Olympic marathoner Brian Maxwell, who founded PowerBar in 1986 and touted the bars as the high-performance athlete’s alternative to candy bars, says his creation is superior in vitamins and minerals. He has called Clif Bars a “natural cookie,” not an energy bar.

Clif Bar’s flavors run the gamut from cookies and cream and apricot to chocolate espresso and carrot cake. They’re preservative-free, nondairy and certified kosher.

PowerBar, which also comes in several flavors, responded to the competition by introducing the Harvest Bar, a softer, chunkier, crunchier version of the company’s original bar.

Still, PowerBar remains the market leader, followed by Balance Bar, which was introduced in 1992, then Clif Bar, according to Clif Bar and San Francisco-based Spence Information Services, a research firm that follows the $300-million energy bar market.

Trader Joe’s grocery store in San Francisco can’t keep energy bars on the shelves. They began selling them about three years ago, employee Kerry Spencer said. They now stock 12 brands.

“They’ve taken off so much, they’re basically killing off our sales on nuts and dried fruits,” he said, adding that Clif Bars are especially popular.

The store orders about 20 cases of Clif Bars, or 3,840 bars, a week in nine flavors.

Katalin Potter buys them by the case and carries them in her backpack and in her car’s glove compartment on ski trips. Her runner husband eats them, and her 13- and 16-year-old sons take them to school.

“They’re healthy and they taste great,” she said.

Erickson, 41, and Thomas, 43, remain dazed by their success.

“I just had a vision that I liked the idea of being self-employed and having control over my future,” Thomas said. “It never would’ve entered my mind to contemplate running a $30-million company.”

Sales doubled in each of Clif Bar’s first three years, and increased by 40 percent to $30 million last year. The company added 25 employees in 1998. Now, 77 people work for Erickson and Thomas.

At Clif Bar corporate headquarters, the predominantly Gen-X staff sports purple hair, flannel shirts, jeans, even sweatpants and sandals.

The 11,000-square-foot building serves as both office and warehouse. There’s a basketball hoop outside and a gym, complete with stationary bikes, treadmill, weights, shower and two climbing walls inside.

Thomas arrived for a recent interview with wet hair after a lunchtime workout.

She calls the rapid growth intimidating and challenging.

While the company has lost just five employees since 1992, the growth puts pressure on the system, said Joann Russell, newly hired human resources director.

“It’s hard to get anything done,” said Alline Anderson, customer service manager. “It seems my department’s staffed for where we were nine or 10 months ago.”

Some of the warehouse space may soon be turned into offices to accommodate the growing staff.

“It does feel like we’re right in the middle of this crazy time,” Thomas said. “How do we continue to grow and be successful . . . and also maintain our standard of caring and the values that have gotten us where we are now?”