OUR STORY
One decision can change it all.
It starts like this.
A little light in the kitchen. A paper trimmer on the dining table. A ribbon curling beside a coffee cup. Outside, the mountain air is still. Not silent - but still. The kind of stillness you only notice when you’ve come from somewhere busier. Somewhere flatter. Somewhere louder.
Inside, Rachel is making invitations. Grommets. Brown envelopes. A soft metallic ink that catches the light when it turns just so. Some of the invitations are for her wedding. Some are for strangers - handwritten, tied with care, inviting them to join a new kind of portfolio. A company not yet grown. A future not yet shaped.
It’s easy to look back now and call it a brand. But in that moment, it was just one small decision: to do something right. To do it beautifully. To do it differently.
This is how Abode began. Not with scale or cut-throat strategy, but with a thousand handcrafted mailers, five keen responses, and one couple deciding - night after night, season after season - to keep building.
The rhythm of right decisions
Rachel hadn’t meant to stay in Park City all those years ago. She was from Chicago, didn’t ski, and missed the city’s pulse. She used to say she was “just passing through.” But then came a dinner invitation. An introduction. A small restaurant opening where she met Rob. Introverted, steady Rob.
One decision followed another. Rachel stayed. Her marketing job turned serious; as did her relationship with Rob. Then, Rob decided he wanted to launch a vacation rental company - right as the housing market was tanking.
Rachel wasn’t sure. She even suggested he try pharmaceutical sales instead. But when it became clear he wasn’t going to walk away from the idea, she leaned in - cautiously, but with care. And she said, “If we’re doing this, we need to do it right.”
While juggling flights and full-time work, Rachel helped Rob shape the earliest touches of what would become Abode. They were planning a wedding, building a business, and - without even realizing it - laying down the roots of a company that would come to define how hospitality feels in the mountains.
They hired their first employee - Carlos Junior - in 2010. Nineteen, persistent, and full of energy. Rob scribbled daily to-do lists on sticky notes. Rachel wasn’t sure they were ready. But they rolled with it anyway, and Junior stayed for a decade.
Abode’s first office was essentially a closet: a tiny basement space on Park City’s main street with a single front window and just enough room for belief. Rachel was still flying back and forth for work. By 2012, with their first child on the way, the couple made another decision: for Rachel to leave her six-figure career and join the business full time. No maternity leave. No backup plan. Just trust - and the kind of clarity that comes when your life narrows to what matters most.
Their goal back then wasn’t to dominate. It was to survive. Park City isn’t cheap. Groceries cost more. Space is tighter. They told themselves that if they could make $200k a year, they’d be okay. That was the finish line. Of course, the line moved.
Over time, Abode grew - not because of a master plan, but because every decision, every property, every hire was made with the same kind of care the couple used when tying ribbon to cardstock. No shortcuts. No noise. Just consistency. And hospitality that felt personal, rather than performative.
They never set out to build a luxury brand. They simply set out to build the best.
Luxury lives in the little things
Today, Abode Luxury Rentals manages a portfolio of exceptional homes across Park City, Sun Valley, Jackson Hole, and beyond. The team - now dozens strong - still feels like a family. Some are related by blood. Most have become chosen. They’re supported with benefits that go far beyond the basics: company-paid therapy, shared values, room to stay and grow.
And the homes? They aren’t just beautiful. They’re held. Looked after. Understood.
At Abode, we don't rely on slogans or sleek sales language. We rely on tone. Timing. The kind of welcome that doesn’t need to be explained; because it’s felt.
Here, luxury is quiet. It lives in the small things. A fire lit before you arrive. A fridge filled without asking. A call answered by someone who already knows who you are.
For a long time, our founders didn’t realise how much they’d built. They weren’t chasing status. They weren’t on panels or boards. They were just working - shoulder to shoulder, day by day, in a rhythm they’d made their own.
And that rhythm remains.
Because the truth is, the big things (the legacy, the scale, the success) rarely come all at once.
They arrive one decision at a time. A ribbon. A basement office. A sticky note. A welcome that feels real.
