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The next challenge was to learn to make custom lasts. It
is one thing to modify an existing last, and quite another to make
a last from scratch. Last making is an entirely different craft than
bootmaking. I had a German friend, Gerhard, who told me if he had
the measurements of a foot, an ink imprint of the foot, a block of
wood, a bandsaw, and a belt sander—that given thirty minutes
he could “grind out” a last to fit that foot. I didn’t
believe him. There came a time when I saw him do just that! I had
to know how! It took years, and Gerhard was patient with me, but I
can make lasts. In fact, I have various methods. Gerhard is still
a better last maker than I.
At the
same time there was the issue of patterns. Like last making,
pattern making is a completely different craft than
bootmaking. Most bootmakers are working from patterns that
belonged to Granddad, or that came with the shop. I have only
known a small percentage of bootmakers that were accomplished
pattern makers. And—you can’t order them from
a catalog. There was a time when there were pattern shops
that you could send a last to, with a drawing of what you
wanted and get patterns–I don’t believe that exists
in the U.S. any more.
I had
learned the rudiments in shoe school from Thom McKian, a
professional pattern maker. My skill and knowledge were
added to during my years at the Merrell Boot Company. I would
go to Italy or Germany with a last and a drawing of what we
wanted to have made, and their “modelist,” masters
with generations of heritage, would go to work creating the
patterns. Often patterns would be turning out other that what
we had in mind, so I (dealing with a language barrier) would
step in, take the tools in hand, and get them on track! That
was awkward! Also, my years teaching our Bootmaking Seminars
added immensely to my pattern skills. You can’t teach
that which you don’t know—so I was forced to learn.
However, the early mornings and late nights struggling over
clients’ challenging foot problems brought me the most
understanding of patterns. In time I became a skilled pattern
maker.
An unexpected
requirement of meeting clients’ needs
were my machines, especially sewing machines. There was nobody
in our area that knew how to repair industrial sewing machines,
especially not shoe machines. I tried shipping machines to
New England for repair—any many a time they were dropped
by the shipping company and the cast iron body fractured.
I needed to learn to repair machines myself. Again, it was
a long road, but a skill I mastered.
The last hurdle to clear was to come to understand the bio-mechanics
or better patho-mechanics of the foot. I will tell that story
in another section of this site.
So, in 1975 Lou Ann and I started out making custom Western
boots and then morphed to include hiking and backpacking boots.
In 1982 there were two significant events that changed our
lives: we started teaching two-week bootmaking seminars, and
we were approached by John Schweitzer and Clark Matis. The
Merrell Boot Company was formed and I took a five-year detour
into the corporate world and international business. During
that time I managed to keep our custom boot shop operating,
along with the seminars, at a slowed pace. For several reasons
we left Merrell Boot Company after five years and returned
to our roots and our love of handmade boots.
After
a few more years of dealing with clients and the symptoms
and pain of their feet, the need for an understanding of the
bio-mechanics of the feet began to tug at my mind. Actually
a couple of friends that were way ahead of me threw a lariat
around my neck and dragged me into it. After several years
of step-by-step learning of how the foot was working inside
the boot, and how to control the erroneous motions made by
the foot, there was a gradual shift from a custom boot shop
to a pedorthic lab. We taught our last bootmaking seminar
in the summer of ‘05 as our pedorthic work took center
stage.
In
the fall of ‘08 we encountered an unexpected “speed
bump.” I became infected with the West Nile Virus and
developed what is called West Nile Meningitis. By all rights
I should have been dead, and literally, were it not for Divine
intervention I would have been. I was flat down for about
three months and when I started back, a full week’s
work was to see one pedorthic client. I would work standing
at my bench for eight or ten minutes–then take a 45-minute
rest to do it again. That event caused Lou Ann and I to carefully
evaluate what was most important, and where to best spend
our time and effort. Since I can help so many more, in more
profound ways with pedorthics, bootmaking has been greatly
reduced. That is the main reason we no longer conduct seminars.
I typically spend two days a week seeing Pedorthic Clients,
two days a week fabricating orthotics and making pedorthic
modifications to shoes and boots, and a couple more days keeping
up with everything that we do around here. This is the pace
that I can sustain. Local folks assume that I am pretty laid
back only seeing clients two days a week. Oh well. Actually
we have been blessed with regard to West Nile—medical
stats indicate that what you have after two years is what
you will live with the rest of your life. After more than
six years, I continue to gain stamina and energy. We vacation
more than before; we hug more often; and I say “no” more
often than I used to.
The evolution
has gone from frustration to knowledge and skill, from one
career-set to another. There was a time when
I was fearful of what problem would walk through the door
next. Today the feeling is “bring it on.” I look
forward to something that I have not seen before so I can
figure it out. Through the years I have collected a huge assortment
of tools, materials, machines, knowledge, skills and ideas
that I use to “Make Feet Happy,” and I have fun
doing it.
The
Beginnings
Bootmaking
has always been more than a job to me, more than a career,
more than a craft. The truth is it has been a challenge.
I started at a time when many of the masters of the “old
country” were retiring and dying. Quality instruction,
accurate information, and even tools and materials were often
difficult to obtain. Today they are all but extinct. Had it
been easy, I would have been bored and lost interest. Many,
many times I have been in the shop before five a.m. and frequently
I awaken in the middle of the night with an answer to a perplexing
question. When you are into your work that much, it can be
a lot of fun.
My actual
training as a bootmaker started as a boy on my father’s horse ranch, with the expectation that I do
a man’s work. I built fences and barns, trimmed and
shoed horses’ hooves, mucked stalls, hauled hay, irrigated,
delivered foals, repaired the pump, and on and on. This jack-of-all-trades
beginning provided an excellent foundation for what would
become my career. I learned to fix most anything that needed
fixing and I learned to do whatever I did the best way I knew
because if it failed I would be the one to do it over. Typically
that “do-over” occurred at midnight or at twenty
below zero.
After three years at Utah State University in the pre-vet
program, as well as two years in Brazil working as a missionary
for my church, I came to an unusual career choice: I wanted
to be a bootmaker. In Brazil I had come to know two artisans
who made boots and I was intrigued by their craft. While there
are no known bootmakers in my lineage, I come from a long
line of pioneers that could turn their hand at most anything
that needed to be done.
After
my training at The Lynn Independent Industrial School of
Shoemaking, and Oklahoma State Tech., Okmulgee, I commandeered
a garage on my father’s ranch, borrowed five grand from
my father-in-law-to-be and purchased a retiring shoe repairman’s
shop in Salt Lake City. I had brought three sewing machines
home from Massachusetts on the train, along with a little
leather and thread, etc. In Oklahoma I had acquired a few
pairs of lasts and a few more machines. So the shop was put
together and work began.
I look
back at those times with extreme mixed feelings. It was
a great time because I was diving headfirst into something
that was incredibly new and mentally delicious. I was young,
and I knew it all. Now—forty years later—I look
back and shake my head.
Lou Ann and I were incredibly fortunate. We worked together;
overhead was minimal as we were neither paying rent on the
shop nor our house on the ranch. We drove an old blue Chevy
three-speed pickup, that had been paid for years earlier.
Materials for boots were less than ten percent of what they
cost now. Essentially we were only paying for utilities, groceries
and shop improvement.
I went
about perfecting my craft and building a business—line
upon line, precept upon precept. I was constantly on the lookout
for opportunities to learn and would travel anywhere to pick
up knowledge. There have been hundreds of those opportunities
over the years, but most of my knowhow came from early mornings
and late nights struggling over foot challenges brought in
by clients, and working against deadlines. “Necessity
is the mother of invention.”
In addition
to learning bootmaking, last making, pattern making, pedorthics
and machine repair, we also had to learn
how to run a business. I was fortunate to have been raised
by an entrepreneur, so business was in my blood. However,
by the book, we do it all wrong! We are not located in a city
of significance, we are not even downtown Vernal, Utah. Most
would expect a foot lab to be located in a medical complex,
or at least in a strip mall. No, we are a “home-based
business.” I have a great shop/lab about seven miles
from downtown Vernal, up a beautiful canyon with a creek in
the back yard! We don’t offer “sales” every
few weeks. We don’t have a roster of employees.
In the
beginning we had visions of growing. There was a time when
it was Lou and I plus five employees—a difficult
size. We realized that we either needed to grow or to remain
a “mom-and-pop operation.” We choose small; attention
to detail, little waste, investment in tools and equipment,
quality work, low stress, treating people how we would want
to be treated, and most of all, keeping our word. That is
how we do business. |