Jack Dennis is The Man.

Posted on February 23, 2014 by D Dauphinee






An excerpt from the essay, “I’m Goin’ to Jackson” 2012 From the book,

“Something’s Wrong with My Fly”

The year, 1980.

I had taken a Greyhound bus all the way to Jackson Hole from Bangor. I had a duffle bag, a journal, an external frame backpack, a fly rod and vest, a guitar and $88.53 (according to my journal). I smelled like diesel fuel for two weeks. The bus didn’t go all the way to Jackson, but there was a connector north from Rock Springs. The “connector” was a 1968 ford station wagon driven by a fat man who reeked of gin. An auspicious start, I thought.

I knew I had a place to stay, and a job at the hospital as a scrub nurse in the operating room. It did all fall into place. I met great people every time I turned around. One of the recovery room nurses happened to be Sandy Dennis, one of the nicest persons I met, who also happened to be the wife of well-known fly fisherman Jack Dennis, author Western Trout Fly Tying which happened to be one of the only books about fly tying I owned. I was psyched. I went out to Wyoming for a year to get a taste of the west and stayed there for eight. Before I moved out of the valley I had learned how to climb, refined my fly fishing, met some really famous people in some pretty down-to-earth settings, became a guide, got a little tipsy with an actor you’ve heard of while sitting on the banks of the snake river under a full moon, and trained my way into “athlete” status. Those were some pretty gung-ho formative years.

Within the first three years in The Valley, I was asked by Jack Dennis himself three times if I’d like to go fishing, and declined each time. I could be rather shy in those days and to be honest, I was a little intimidated. Make no mistake…when he asked, we were in social settings – usually hospital business – and he was an engaging, salt of the earth type guy who made me feel comfortable in an otherwise potentially stuffy atmosphere. I liked him the moment I met him, and if I didn’t mention it, his wife Sandy was, like… a perfect woman. The fact is, I just didn’t think I was good enough to hang with a famous western fisherman and possibly his buddies. As I learned later, I was good enough, if only barely, and besides, Jack is known to be a gracious guy, but the opportunity had passed. I’ve regretted it ever since. I have since had the pleasure of fishing with some well-known anglers over the years, but it is those lost chances with Jack I think about because (and here’s the point) some of those others have adopted – or assumed – a sort of celebrity status, while Jack has always remained a good ‘ole fly fisherman, who happened to get famous because he fished a LOT, fished well, and contributed to the sport. His celebrity is almost incidental, and I bet to him the fishing has remained the most important thing. It probably always will.
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