Yard Sale, Texas-Style

At the end of June, I noticed people setting up for a yard sale as I was on my way to Iron Ridge. I normally put my blinders on, since I don't need anything. Oh, but this was a Texas-style yard sale, featuring tack. LOTS of tack. I managed to keep my truck on the road, and when I went back the next day, it wasn't there. Whew! Dodged that bullet.

For awhile, anyway.

The following weekend (Friday of the long July 4th weekend), the sale was back on. In fact, it seemed as if they had even more stuff on display. On my way back from riding, my truck pulled itself into the driveway of its own accord. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

There was a pile of halters and lead ropes a couple feet high. There were two carousels of headstalls and bits, and another of reins. Most of it was really severe stuff, including wire mechanical hackamores, etc. There was a table full of spurs, another filled with stirrups and miscellaneous leather and hardware, and still another with a stack of ropes as high as I am tall. There were at least a dozen saddles. This was not a store going out of business; it was a collection of roping tack in various stages of used.

Most of the saddles were big, as in large-man big. One was teeny-tiny, with the name "Christine" cloyingly engraved on the cantle plate. Then my eye beheld one that not only looked as if it would fit me, it spoke to me.  It was a beautiful, vintage (1970s-1980s) hand-tooled roping show saddle. The old cowpoke in charge measured it at ±15". It was on a wooden stand, and I climbed on.  It's as if it had been custom-made for my bum.

 I can find no maker's mark.
The keepers, hobble straps, stirrups, and front billets were replaced.
The rear billets may be original.
The cowpoke gave me the stand.

The cantle plate is solid brass, not brass plated.
I thought the conchos might be silver,
but the more I look at them, I think they're nickel or something else.
Hard to tell, since someone scrubbed the daylights
out of them, possibly with a wire brush.

 This is old-school hand tooling.

This is the color of the hydrated leather.
This photo was taken the day I brought it home,
so it's looking (and feeling)
a lot better than it did that day.

 The flocking has been replaced.
There are two small spots on the scalloped edge of the pommel
where friction from a rope wore through the leather.
It's cosmetic, not structural, and is charming, I think.
Although there are tiny, superficial cosmetic cracks,
mostly around the edges, I don't think anything except
the Blevins sliders needs to be replaced.

The rear girth (above), however, has deep, structural cracks on the underside. But look at the tooling — you don't see tooled rear girths like that anymore. I haven't ever used one, but I'll treat it anyway. One could have another girth made using the tooled pieces, which are the keepers.

Thank goodness dear Mr. Fry is such a western enthusiast. He looked askance at me for a moment when he saw my purchase, but was soon admiring the craftsmanship and my good fortune for having spotted it. He did question my need for it, but — bless him — he did not rain on my parade.

I took it apart and applied almost an entire liter of Lexol Conditioner/Preservative to the saddle and girth. The leather sucked up every bit of it. I have since added a liter of Farnham Restorer & Conditioner, which it also absorbed. I've finally gotten it to where I have the stirrup leathers cranked around with a dowel, and I continue to treat it periodically.

I'll try this saddle on Jaz, but I don't think it will fit, at least not without a riser pad. This will be Daltrey's saddle. It's heavier than my barrel saddle, so I have started some upper body conditioning so I will be able to lift it over my head.

I wonder about the person or persons who owned the saddle, the horses that wore it, the places to which they may have traveled, and what they may have done together. I sense an aura of warmth, confidence, and excellent karma. I think it's a good omen and talisman for D and me.