LEIGH PERKINS--- who in 1966 took a little roadside fishing store in Manchester, Vermont and turned it into an international fly fishing, sport bird hunting and outfitting sensation called The Orvis Company---died last month at 93 in Florida.
He was a friend of mine and a big influence in my becoming a fly fishing guide in Wyoming.
If there was a place in any part of the world that Leigh hadn't fished or hunted in grand style, I wouldn't believe it. His passion for fly fishing first, then game bird shooting and hunting dogs carried his business into the stratosphere of success. He became an avid conservationist and preserver of natural wildlife habitats. He and his sons David and Perk, now grandson Simon, donated a portion of their business proceeds to these outdoor causes.
I met Leigh while serving with him on the national board Nature Conservancy-before it got woke and went off the cliff over man made global warmimg--- in Arlington, Virginia. He was a bit of a rascal, but nonetheless a greatly likeable fellow. Later when I moved part-time to Jackson, Wyoming, and became an avid fisher woman myself, Leigh was there to encourage me to get into the fishing business. I helped him open the Orvis Store in Jackson with the late Vern Bressler and Vern's son guide Joe Bressler. It didn't pay much but sure was a lot of fun and I learned a tremendous amount about all things fly fishing.
Soon I left Orvis and started my own little guide business in the Buffalo Valley of Northern Jackson Hole, wading on the smaller tributaries of the Snake River.
I would occasionally fish with Leigh at his gorgeous spread in Star Valley, south of town where the fishing for large native cutthroat was plentiful and the lavish hospitality included the finest wines, freshly picked and cooked morrels in season and fillet with roasted vegetables. He would tell me that contrary to what people thought about the biggest money maker at Orvis being fly fishing equipment, it was really women's clothing in stores and the catalogue---bought and worn by women like me--- which kept the business afloat. Matter of fact, I am sitting at my computer writing this in my favorite Orvis quick dry knee length pants, like the other five pairs I own.
As time went on I began to lose touch with Leigh but I would occasionally run into him on some stretch of river we both loved to fish. It's been years now since I've seen him but I still remember him fondly and appreciate all the encouragement he gave me in the fabulous, adventurous world of fly fishing. I have many fish and grizzly tales yet to tell.
I have no idea of Leigh's spiritual condition, but I pray we shall meet again one day in a better place....perhaps a great native trout stream in the new earth.
Till then, tight lines, sir! Tight lines! And a river runs through it.....
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