From the Tack Room to the Living Room

It’s the beginning of a new year. Time to reflect, to consider, and to honor what has
happened these past few months. Time to plan, to reconsider, and to
anticipate what is yet to come. This is when we count our blessings. One of
my gifts has been the legacy of spade bit appreciation and lifestyle handed
down by my father and mother, Richie and Marge Morgan. Now I realize just
how extraordinary our everyday lives were. Rich in family, friends, culture,
and traditions, to become a heritage for me and my girls. With those gifts
came the opportunity to curate the Richie Morgan spade bit collection. 160
spade bits, each photographed and chronicled, to preserve their place in
history. They are showcased in One Man’s Collection of Early California
Spade Bits and in One Man’s Opinion about Spade Bits.
www.earlycaliforniabitsandbridles.com

Many time, I am asked which is my favorite bit, which is an impossible
question to definitively answer. Do I choose one for sentiment, of either
bitmaker or horse, for craftmanship, for the story, or for the design? When
hundreds of bits have passed through our hands, there is no one favorite.
The bits have stories; this is when they start talking. You hold that piece of
iron, warm to the touch, balanced with weight evenly placed, listen to the
music of the rolling cricket, evoke memories of horses, times, and friends.
The stories start flowing. Right then that is your favorite bit, and then you
pick up a new favorite and a new story begins.

There is no one right answer to this question, but it starts fascinating
discussions. It highlights the individuality of the horseman, the horse, and
the work. It defines the working cowboy compared to the collector, and one
person can be both. It might separate the showring from the field. Does it
represent a new, up-coming bitmaker or is it from a hard-to-find historic
craftsman? Is it pristine or does it have a story? And then there are all the
considerations of the horse packing it and the rider’s hands holding it. We
respectfully recognize one man’s (or woman’s) favorite, and that may not
reflect our opinion.

Richie Morgan had the privilege of riding many horses with some very good
bits over decades of working cattle in fields, mountains, corrals and feedlots,
some horseshow arenas too. He learned what horses he liked, what work
was required, and what bit helped get it done. He worked with bitmakers,
visited with other horsemen, held hundreds of bits in his practiced hands.
He learned as he built the bridles with the bit, headstall, curb strap, chains,
and reins. He felt the craftsmanship as he cleaned the crud out of the cricket and rubbed any rust off that might dislodge the beautiful inlaid silver.
Summer activity was tallowing the rawhide reins to keep them supple,
rubbing the rendered tallow in thoroughly to avoid spoilage. He definitely
had an opinion about a spade bit.

I had the privilege too to ride with Richie, to talk with him as we cleaned and
repaired his treasures, to listen to his stories as he visited with other knowing
horsemen. He and I wrote the letters to Mr. Grijalva, specifically ordering the
famous EG* bits with our personal requirements.
Holding the bits, studying the different configurations, analyzing why they
work as they do, hearing the crickets roll, replaying the stories. He and I also
photographed and recorded the history and story of each one of his bits,
noting what made them special. I heard the reason for changing a bit on a
horse because of different work or different rider. It all came together to
help me form my opinion too.

The old bits were made to be used. The good ones had the total
craftsmanship to be beautiful and useful for a long time. The design was
reminiscent of all those eras that came before, the Moors, the Spaniards, the
Vaqueros. That design was part of the cultural preferences: Santa Barbara,
birds head, Nevada, las cruces, hanging D. The mouthpiece was the
centerpiece of this creation. The loose jaw didn’t pinch or get too loose too
soon. And it didn’t start with the stiffness of the solid jaw, hoping it will
loosen up. A loose jaw had the appropriate action, but not too loose, and a
solid jaw is solid. The balance was created with an awareness of cheek
design, lay of the spade, and proportion of mouthpiece attached to
cheekpiece. Some of these bits have been used carefully for decades and
deserve at some point to retire from the tack room to hang on the wall in the
living room for posterity. They have completed a job well done.
Then there are some that have never been on a horse, but they are exquisite
works of art and potentially very useful. The owner kept it pristine and new.
For these older bits, there is no wear on them, they look like they just came
out of the shop, beautiful. They are perfect examples of what a bit should be,
but they are not used. If not the maker’s name, then the precision of
handmade workmanship cries for protection from the vagaries of working out
in the field. It survived so far; it deserves to continue in that pristine
condition.

Today’s bitmakers have added a new element to the market: bits that are
pure works of art. Mixed metals, new techniques, while adhering to the specifications of a good
working bit. These bits are museum quality and will be placed on a someone’s Wall of
Fame. We might see some in a showring, but the average working cowboy
would treasure it too much to chance a tragedy.
Other bits may have had an owner with an idea about making it better. A
little spot of solder here, cut a little off that big ol’ spade, change the
mouthpiece, all for the betterment of a spade bit. They then may go into a
trade box; they may get a restoration; they may still hang on someone’s wall
of fame. It’s all someone’s opinion.
Richie had a most interesting Wall of Fame for his special bits. He and Marge
decorated their living room with western pictures and bits hanging on the
walls. Sometimes he would take one to use on one of his horses and then
put it back on the wall when done. One wall, where the two recliners were,
one was his chair, was Morgan’s Wall of Fame. This is where he hung his
favorite bits at that specific time. He sat in that recliner, right in front. His
words: “They’ll have to get through me to get to them.” That attitude comes
with history. After one branding, we walked into our home bereft of bits on
the walls. They were ultimately found under the bed with a bunch of
laughing cowboys. So that is where, in later years, he displayed his prizes, on the wall behind
his chair. The first bit he bought, an unmarked inlaid Santa Barbara,
sentiment. The last bit Romie Pomi made, sentiment and craftsmanship.
The AB Hunt Marge bought from Dick Deller and gave to Richie for
Christmas, sentiment and rarity. The chaised Mardueno style from EG*, very
rare and craftsmanship. Sometimes a new bit, or a bit with an interesting
story, would find itself behind Richie, prominently showcased on the wall.
For usability and craftsmanship, he rode with the Tietjens and Grijalvas,
proudly and carefully, displaying them in a different but appropriate manner.

I too have a Wall of Fame in my home and in my heart. When I sold most of
the bits in the Collection, some of them I had to tuck in my heart and
memory because they needed to move on to other people to appreciate as
much as we did. Those are the ones in my heart and soul: the last Pomi, the
one-of-three-made by AB Hunt, the rare chaised EG*, the beautiful new Dan
Price Santa Barbara, the marked Figueroa with all its details, the Ernie Marsh
that arrived on my birthday. Sentiment, craftsmanship, rarity, beauty,
memories decorating other people’s walls or working with their horses. No
matter, deserving Fame status and telling their stories wherever they hang.
The actual Wall of Fame for me has the first bit Richie bought; that will
probably remain in the family for generations. There is also the unmarked
Figueroa with all the same characteristics of the marked one I sold. I know
above all else it is a Figueroa even without the mark, and the money is in the bank. An unmarked Santa Barbara spade featured in Phillips and Gutierrez
catalog with over one hundred pieces of silver sits on the shelf, reminding
the observer of the classic beauty and the craftsmanship of a handmade bit.
In the family room hang two bits that Richie and I drew up patterns for (a
horseshoe and a wagon wheel) that Eduardo Grijalva made. And then there
is the simple half-breed, unmarked but maybe a Figueroa, that Richie picked
up from a workbench. That was the first bit I used on Tanya and Buckshot.
We can choose our favorites, looking at all the histories. But when it is a
lifetime decision, a choice for forever, sentiment wins every time. Listen to
the stories.

The heritage along with the stories will continue. There is now a Wall of
Fame in my home and in my girls’, and in our hearts. We each proudly
present the instruments of craftsmanship that begin the story of decades of
pride, skill, and tradition. The saga of the spade bit craftsmen, man and
horse. tells a timeless tale to generations yet to come of a heritage to not be
forgotten. The Walls of Fame showcase the priceless stories these bits and
horsemen are yearning to tell.