business

A Way of Life HORSESHOEING Technology Can't Improve Upon

The job's backbreaking and potentially dangerous. Getting injured means no paycheck. And in summer, there's no relief when the thermometer tops 110 degrees in the shade. No existing technology makes the customfitting work easier, either, because the trade today looks much the same as in Arizona's Territorial days. "It takes its toll on you. The only time you're making money is when you're bent over shoeing a horse," says 53-year-old Jerry Caswell, who has been doing that in central Arizona for more than a quartercentury. He learned how from his farrier father, 75-year-old Aubrey, who learned from his father. And Jerry has since taught his 22-year-old son, Lee, and 18-year-old son, Tim, who's worked with his father the past three summers.Visit Pretty Penny Ranch, a meticulously groomed boarding stable and training center in Scottsdale, and you'll see members of the Caswell clan hard at work, hunched over, shoulders planted against a side of unpredictable horseflesh. "At any time, you can get hurt in this business, and you can be out of business - maybe permanently," says Jerry, who scoffs at the risks despite having suffered broken ribs. He ignores the routine aches and pains. "If you're sore, you just keep working. You may slow up a little bit and not work as hard or as fast, but you just keep working." Handling horses and learning how to trim and file hooves and shape shoes to fit perfectly comes with practice. Family patriarch Aubrey got his schooling from his rancher father, who learned from a cowboy. "My father said, 'If you're to ride, you're going to have to shoe,' so I started that way," Aubrey relates. "It takes a lifetime. You just keep learning. "It's something I've enjoyed. It's about as hard a work as I've done, but... I just enjoy it, enjoy meeting the people and being associated with the horses. A lot of satisfaction about it." Even with his 27 years of experience, Jerry says he's still learning. "You work for a lot of people, and you have to not only get along with the horses, you have to get along with the owners.

Sometimes that's harder than getting along with the horses.

On an average day, working together, Jerry and Lee can shoe eight to 12 horses. Aubrey's semiretired and living in Poland Junction, where he does a little horseshoeing for friends.

"There's not one horse that's the same," says Lee, who has been working with his father for 4% years. "They're all different - something new every time you pick up a different foot."

The process never changes, though. "You've got to trim the foot first - have a good trim. It makes it easier then to shape the shoe if the foot is trimmed [properly]," says Lee, whose ability to pound shoes into shape on an anvil now exceeds his father's because Jerry's portion of the job usually involves cutting and filing the hooves.

"It takes practice, practice, lots of practicetice," says Lee of his horseshoe handiwork. The most important lesson he's learned from his father is "to be honest about [anything that happens] when you're shoeing a horse." Avoiding sensitive tissue when nailing on a shoe comes with practice as well. The hoof-wall ranges from a half-inch thick to cracker-thin. "If you stick a horse with a nail or something, be honest about it. Let the owner know."

While Lee ultimately wants to become a firefighter (he's currently a reserve firefighter for Rural Metro in Cave Creek), he appreciates the craft he's learned so well and realizes he'll always have a fall-back job and a way to pick up extra money. "It's nice not to be in an office, sitting in there pushing a pencil. It's nice to be out and be able to do something - work outside."

Says Jerry, "It's a good trade to know even if you don't want to pursue it full time. It's been good to me. I can't complain. I've supported my family all these years and put my wife through school."

Even with the heat, the dust and the risk of broken bones, the work of the farrier is easier now in some ways. Once farriers shielded their skill out of fear that techniques and customers - might be purloined, but these days they routinely share ideas and help each other.

"Years ago you could be working in the same barn, and lots of times the blacksmiths would stop when you'd walk up to talk to them," Jerry remembers.

A better memory comes from just a few years ago when he broke his ankle roping and wasn't able to work. His competitors came to the rescue.

"Several of them not only did my work, they had the checks sent to me," Jerry says. "That's the best insurance we can have friends like that."

Editor's Note: For information on Jerry Caswell Horseshoeing and Sons, call (480) 488-4752.