Early in May, Tim Boyle stepped up to the podium at the Portland Business Alliance's annual breakfast meeting. Lights were dimmed, coffee cups sat cooling on ceramic saucers, and the audience of about a thousand business leaders waited for a standard-fare keynote address.

Boyle's introduction had been a jocular affair. A montage of laugh-out-loud Columbia Sportswear television ads were shown on large screens. Boyle taken down by a tranquilizer dart and left on a mountain peak. Boyle flattened by a Zamboni. Boyle at the mercy of his famously tough mother, Gert.

But once Tim Boyle began speaking, the lighthearted mood dissipated quickly. With Portland Mayor Tom Potter sitting squarely in front of the stage at the VIP table he'd shared with Boyle, the CEO of Columbia Sportswear launched a pointed critique of local government, including the city of Portland's plan to buy PGE — an initiative Potter has fiercely advocated.

"What services does government uniquely provide?" Boyle asked rhetorically. "Safe streets and good schools come to mind. Running an electric utility does not."

Boyle took city leaders to task for not thinking competitively and not investing in the right priorities — in short, for failing to learn lessons from business.

There was no standard chamber of commerce fare, no platitudes or attaboy's. Mayor Potter, who left the room shortly afterward without exchanging any words with his tablemate, couldn't have been prepared for such a pan.

Boyle, Columbia Sportswear's CEO since 1988, isn't a frequent contributor to the dialogue between business and City Hall. But his words, which have become known simply as "the speech" in Portland business circles, peppered conversation and triggered debates for weeks, and left lingering questions about the relationship between businesses and city government in Mayor Potter's still nascent regime.

Meanwhile, the generally affable, introverted CEO professed surprise at the rabble roused by his brief speech. To friends afterward, he'd shrug and say, "Who cares what I think?"

TIM BOYLE CLAIMS AT TURNS TO BE a bad golfer, a poor student and a boring individual.

Though his self-effacement is legendary, it's a bit difficult to swallow. The CEO of Columbia Sportswear is worth billions, and the company he grew with his mother is a fantastic success story.

In 1937, Gert Boyle and her family fled Nazi Germany for Portland, where her father, Paul Lamfrom, bought a hat company and named it after the Columbia River. After graduating from the University of Arizona in 1946, Gert married Neal Boyle and returned to Portland to raise a family while her husband went into business with her father.

In 1970, the tragic heart-attack death of 47-year-old Neal Boyle changed everything. At the time, Tim Boyle, the oldest of three children, was studying journalism at the University of Oregon.

"I was planning to go to law school but I was such a bad student, I'm still trying to figure out what kind of law school would have accepted me," Boyle says. "Maybe I could have convinced someone that drinking beer was a positive for law studies."

He left Eugene to join forces with his mother (he finished up his U of O degree a few years later) and the two tried to figure out exactly how to run Columbia Sportswear. It was a precarious time. Neal Boyle had just taken out a loan, intending to expand, and family property was on the hook as collateral.

"We had a sewing factory and I ran a shift to try and understand how it worked," Boyle says. "I didn't like it very much and wasn't good at it. What I could do better was sell the product."

Despite his reserved personality, Boyle had a natural affinity for sales — a talent he downplays as plain common sense. "Selling stuff was really a function of survival. You had to have cash flow," he says. "Then, as the company expanded, to continue to get sales we had to develop new products. So I would ask customers, 'What should we develop?' And that's what still pushes us forward — we still talk to our customers."

Early on, he and Gert tried to sell off the still-flagging business. But, faced with an offer that would have left them with just $1,400, they decided against it. In the process, though, Boyle became a student of the tire kickers who asked questions about Columbia's potential and gave him clues about where he could take it.

And so he took it. He took it into new markets — expanding from skiwear to more general outdoor gear, adding jackets with zip-out linings and a variety of outdoor-chic footwear. He took it from a money-losing company to more than $1 billion in sales. In the '80s, he took it into some uncharted advertising territory by agreeing to have his mother star in the ads and to appear as her unwitting sidekick. And in 1998 he took it public, raising just over $100 million.

The Boyle family still owns more than half the company, and 38% of it, about 15 million shares worth $720 million, is in Tim Boyle's name. He made $1.6 million in salary and bonus payments last year (he was ranked fourth on the 2004 Oregon Business CEO pay list), and owns a Hawker Aircraft jet that he leases to Columbia Sportswear as needed for business trips.

IT IS MOTHER GERT BOYLE, eyes askance over heavy-rimmed reading glasses perched on her nose, who appears in Columbia Sportswear's print ads from Paris to Beijing. And Gert who, in TV ads, tortures her son in the name of road-testing Columbia's parkas.

Son Tim plays the straight man.

Which isn't to say that the younger Boyle doesn't have a sense of humor. His widely quoted one-line answer to the question: What will Columbia do when Gert's gone? — "We'll have her stuffed!" — provides proof.

But friends and colleagues also describe a man whose modesty belies the intensity that's driven Columbia's success — and that fueled his provocative remarks about city government.

Scott Gibson, an investor who serves on several corporate boards, got to know Boyle through their time on the board of Northwest Natural. The two occasionally jog together. "I like to joke that he might seem like he just fell off the turnip truck," Gibson says. "But he's actually driving the turnip truck."

"You're talking to him and you feel very relaxed," says Luis Machuca, CEO of Hillsboro software company Kryptiq Corp. "But he debates by asking questions. That's the way he attacks an issue. It's not lighthearted, but you're never on the defensive. He allows you to explain your position."

Columbia Sportswear general counsel Peter Bragdon took 18 months in 2002 to serve as Gov. Ted Kulongoski's chief of staff, and compares the two leaders. "Both are so down to earth," Bragdon says. "I've traveled with both, and they are each the type to pick up your bag and carry it for you, something few governors or CEOs would do."

Boyle is an active political contributor, supporting both Democrats and Republicans over the years. He endorsed Jim Francesconi for Portland mayor (who lost to Potter) and gave money to President Bush's re-election campaign. But part of what made his Portland Business Alliance speech surprising is that he rarely speaks out on politically charged issues.

"He's not a political animal," says author Larry Colton, organizer of Portland's Wordstock literary festival and a friend of Boyle's. "He's not all hyped up about this or that issue."

Boyle likes to spend his spare time hunting upland birds and waterfowl; he takes an annual hunting trip to Montana. "I play golf," he says. "Poorly, but I play. I do some fishing." He was a member of the ski patrol at Willamette Pass as a young man but doesn't get to the mountains much these days. "I do other stuff as well," he says, shrugs, then adds, "I sound pretty boring, don't I?"

Boyle and his wife, Mary, have two children and a 7,200-square-foot house in Portland's Southwest Hills. Their son, Joe, 24, is an intern at Columbia subsidiary Mountain Hardware in San Francisco. Molly, who just graduated from high school, took third place in a statewide golf tournament this spring. Boyle's friends testify that his kids are well behaved, humble and smart — and that Boyle gives full credit for their upbringing to his wife.

THERE WAS A SUBTEXT TO BOYLE'S critique of the city.

In 2001, the company's headquarters moved from North Portland to unincorporated Washington County. The move came after Columbia officials tried to find a site in the city, running into roadblocks at two separate sites on Portland's east side. The company's exit, and ensuing stories about an inhospitable city unsympathetic to business, became a battle cry both for critics and reformers on City Council.

"I used the Columbia Sportswear experience to reinvent the Bureau of Development Services," says City Commissioner Randy Leonard. "We used what went wrong to change how we did permitting."

But Boyle and others at Columbia downplay the headquarters move, pointing to the company's distribution center near the Port of Portland, its flagship retail store on Broadway and its outlet store in Sellwood. In October, Columbia Sportswear officials pledged $1 million toward the upkeep of Sellwood Park. Even the headquarters' mailing address still says Portland, though it's technically outside city limits. "It should go without saying that Columbia's success is in many ways intertwined with the success of Portland," Boyle said in his speech.

Boyle's assessment of Portland's shortcomings focused mainly on city government's efforts to acquire Portland General Electric. "We have stuck to things we do well," Boyle said of his company. "I would suggest that the city of Portland should do the same."

"I was really taken aback by his remarks," says Commissioner Leonard. "I was struck by the lack of balance."

Leonard and others were frustrated that Boyle neglected to point out any of the improvements the city has made to make life easier for business — a reduction in sewer and water rates and an overhaul of the permitting department, for instance. They point out that the city doesn't have any control over school funding. And they wished Boyle had proposed some creative solutions for the problems the city's economy does face, rather than just pointing fingers.

"I'm not sure we've given the mayor an opportunity to show us what he can do," says Tom Kelly, president of Neil Kelly Company and a leader of the Oregon Business Association. "The speech was a little over the top, but of course I respect his right to say it."

Other business leaders agreed with Boyle's comments and weren't bothered by his blunt delivery.

When Kryptiq's Machuca read an account of the speech in the next day's newspaper, he turned to a colleague and exchanged a high-five. "He said what a lot of people were thinking," Machuca says.

But even those who agreed with the sentiment were surprised. For one thing, the delivery didn't match up to the kinder, gentler image being cultivated by the Portland Business Alliance and the era of collaboration embraced by Mayor Potter after a strife-ridden eight years under Mayor Vera Katz.

"It was just unexpected," says Randy Miller, chairman of the Portland Ambassadors program, who agreed with Boyle's main points. "We're so collegial in Portland. It didn't exemplify the culture."

MAYOR POTTER'S FIRST BUSINESS SUMMIT, held in June, was designed to help the mayor and his staff get a bead on issues important to businesses. Miller and a handful of other PBA members attended. The day's discussions covered a lot of familiar ground, but Miller says it was an effective first step in reaching out to a broad array of businesses.

PBA president and CEO Sandra McDonough is careful to stay neutral, insisting Boyle's speech hasn't chilled her organization's relations with City Hall. She reports an increase in business leaders wanting to get involved. "They understand that this community is very important and people need to come to the table," McDonough says. "We need to ask 'What do we want the region to look like in 10, 20, 30 years?'"

Jordan Schnitzer, president of Harsch Investment Properties, encourages more CEOs to speak up. "Our role is to stand up and be counted, to talk about issues civilly and constructively," Schnitzer says. "Let's have more discourse. Tim got up and spoke. I admire him for it. I hope others do it also."

Mayor Potter plans to keep the dialogue going, but isn't backing down on the city's pursuit of PGE. "This is an investment in our regional economy," he says. Soon after his inauguration in January, Potter checked in with Boyle and his business. Out Highway 26 at Columbia Sportswear's offices, he asked Boyle if there was any way to convince him to move back into the city.

Boyle says he gave the mayor some friendly advice. "Potter's never had a job like this before," Boyle says. "He's really the CEO of a big organization. The biggest single thing he should do is maximize his time. When I try to attract employees to Portland to work for us, they all want to know: What are the schools like and how many meth addicts are going to break into my car? It seems like those ought to be Portland's top priorities."

In mid-July, Boyle joined several Portland business leaders to launch a group opposing city ownership of PGE and advocating that the utility remain private via distribution of PGE stock. Other than that, Boyle hasn't pursued his criticisms of the city further. He said his piece and moved on. His schedule is packed. He's in the hallway between meetings, eyeing a new feature on a hiking shoe. He's en route to Europe to meet with customers.

"I'm not running for office. I'm just a private citizen making a few comments," he says. "I'm not looking for dialogue." Appearing to realize how that sounds, he adds: "If somebody called me and said, 'Hey, could you help me figure out a strategy?' I'm happy to help. But I've got plenty to do here."

[SIDEBAR]
THE STATE OF COLUMBIA

Columbia Sportswear is in a tough business. Competition is brisk and Columbia has been slow to keep up with some trends toward lighter-weight, higher-fashion outdoor gear. Orders were down this spring, thanks to a warmer-than-usual winter and general weakness in the U.S. outerwear market. News of the slowdown sent Columbia's stock price stumbling from near $55 per share to a low of $41.90. The price has been on a steady claw-back, trading in the high-$40s this summer.

But, like any CEO, Tim Boyle is looking ahead, focusing on the next phase for growth.

"When I look at the company from the view of five years out, I expect that Europe will be our largest area of expansion," Boyle says. "If you compare Europe to the United States, it's a larger population base, it's more wealthy on average, the population lives more north of St. Louis, Missouri, than south of it. And they walk to work, so there's more protective clothing required."

In each European market, Boyle says, Columbia's biggest competitor is a local player. Given Columbia's size and reach, he figures his company should be able to dominate. "Europe," he says, "can be bigger than the United States for us."

Columbia, which made a $215 million profit last year, employs 1,148 people in this country, most of them in Oregon, and another 1,000 or so worldwide. Their main distribution center sprawls over 850,000 square feet near the Port of Portland. A new distribution warehouse in Kentucky was completed earlier this year and will employ several hundred people; a third in France has 155 workers. Most of Colubmbia's production is outsourced to countries in Asia.

Licensing is among the company's current strategic thrusts, along with leveraging the brand overseas, developing existing merchandise categories and broadening Columbia's retail reach. In May, the company announced a partnership with World Wide Cycle Supply to license a line of mountain and road bikes and accessories that will carry the Columbia Sportswear name.

COLUMBIA SPORTSWEAR
NASDAQ: COLM
www.columbia.com

Founded: 1938

Subsidiary brands:
Sorel (footwear and apparel) acquired in 2000 for $8 million.
Mountain Hardware (equipment and apparel) acquired in 2003 for $36 million.

2004 financials:
Revenue: $1 billion
Income: $215 million

Sources of 2004 revenue:
42% outerwear
36% sportswear
17% footwear
5% accessories

If you have comments about any articles you've read in Oregon Business magazine, e-mail us at feedback@oregonbusiness.com.

Copyright 2005 Oregon Business magazine