While I wouldn't claim that talking with a slow-motion stampede of bootmakers and saddlemakers over the last seven or eight years has made me an expert on boots and saddles, I do feel confident in declaring that these professions are filled with folks who've been indelibly stamped with a kind of maverick flair.
That's certainly true of Big Bend Saddlery in Alpine, Texas. Set in that fabled part of the state between El Paso and the Pecos River, where the landscape remains imbued with frontier atmosphere, the shop is often described as resembling a cowboy and cowgirl mall. Along with saddles, the Alpine outfit offers belts, chaps, wallets, purses, luggage, tally books and photo albums, Leland Hensley's braided-rawhide pens, holsters, tack, coasters, notebooks, and just about everything else you can craft from leather. If you're a Yellowstone fan, check out the leather director's chair and other items they've made for the show.
They also stock pottery, jewelry, home and kitchen goods, food items, knives, tools, leather care products, hats, clothing, toys and other kid’s stuff, Vortex Optics, bedrolls, stationery and more. Including…BOOKS!
But no matter how extensive the inventory, the historic store has never strayed from its roots. As Big Bend Saddlery owner Gary Dunshee put it, “We've always catered to the working cowboy.”
In a recent phone interview, Gary shared some of the saddlery's colorful past, in which that independent streak was especially evidenced by a saddlemakin' German immigrant named C. H. Werner. “Mr. Werner's parents put him on a steamer bound for America in 1912, when he was still just a boy,” said Gary. “They kissed him on the forehead and told him they loved him, but that it would be better for him in the United States.”
After landing at Ellis Island, young Conrad Werner soon found work in a harness making shop. As he learned the art of working with leather, he began working his way west across the country. For a time, he settled in St. Louis, working in a harness shop that equipped the mules helping to finish construction of the Panama Canal.
“He lived in a boarding house that cost 25 cents a day and he made 25 cents a day at the harness shop,” Gary continued. “He worked 12-hour days, hand stitching with an awl and two needles. At night, he had a part-time job delivering telegrams for Western Union, where he earned a dime each night.” Saving those dimes, he moved on to Miles
