When the Shoe Fits
Mark Milster’s passion for blacksmith and farrier work has taken him all over the world. It even landed him an induction into the International Horseshoeing Hall of Fame.
Mark Milster’s passion for farriery has taken him all over the world—and even landed him in the Hall of Fame.
ON AN EARLY MORNING, BEFORE THE HEAT HAS SETTLED IN FOR THE DAY,
a gust of Oklahoma wind carries a familiar sound of hammer hitting steel out of a workshop and across a pasture of grazing horses. The workshop’s garage doors are open, and at quick glance I can see the silhouette of a man hovered over an anvil working to turn a bar of steel into what will be a set of custom-made horseshoes for the horse he’s currently working on.
“He’s always practicing,” Dana Wetherell says when the noise starts back up. She’s talking about her longtime friend, neighbor, and farrier Mark Milster. In his professional career, Milster has managed to take a traditional approach to blacksmith and farrier work and use it to help modern Western performance horses compete at the highest levels of competition. His talents have taken him across the world to participate in and judge international farrier competitions and present shoeing clinics. In 2014, this lifelong dedication to furthering his craft led Milster to an induction into the International Horseshoeing Hall of Fame, located in the Kentucky Derby Museum in Louisville, Kentucky.
As Wetherell fetches her 18-hand, retired Clydesdale gelding, Drew, from the pasture to take over to the workshop, she shares a story about her farrier that’ll always stick with her. “I remember him telling me how he came close to winning at the World Championship Blacksmith Competition, but he could hear the clock ticking away while he was working,” Wetherell says. “The year he won his world championship he couldn’t hear anything going on around him—he was that focused.”
As we walk 50 yards down the road to Wetherell’s neighbor’s house, I ask why that story sticks with her so well, and she tells me that she likes to use Milster’s laser focus as inspiration when she’s showing her Quarter Horses at national-level competitions.
Getting His Start
When I first walk into Mark Milster’s shop, I’m greeted by his trusty four-legged sidekick, Crash. The newness of seeing me wears off, and Crash returns to his dog bed, which sits beneath a collection of dusty photos featuring an assortment of Western horses. When asked about the old pictures hanging on the wall in his workshop, Milster explains that they’re all customers of his from throughout the years.
I notice there are a few photos of himself from various blacksmith competitions, but he’d rather talk about the success of the different horses he’s worked on. After all, they’re the reason he does what he does.
The brick forge that sits in the middle of his shop begins to heat up, and Milster goes to work prepping Drew for his new set of front shoes. As he trims the large gelding’s left front foot, I pick Milster’s brain on how he got his start in horseshoeing.
He grew up in Missouri around horses and helped his father shoe horses as a kid. Milster never had the chance to meet his grandfather, but he’s heard from family that he was a farrier, as well. “I never planned on becoming a farrier,” the third-generation horseshoer explains. “My dad pushed me to study shoeing, but I decided to go to East Central University in Ada, Oklahoma, to play football and get a degree in criminal justice instead.”
What changed his mind? “I remember watching this guy shoeing my brother Marty’s horses and asking myself, ‘Why am I not the one shoeing those horses?’ It was like a lightbulb turned on, and I knew that was exactly what I was supposed to do.”
There was no backup plan after that. Milster sold a pistol given to him as a graduation present and used that money to buy his first forge.
You’re Never Good, Unless You’re Ready
Milster briefly stops talking, puts down his hoof rasp, and walks over to give Drew a handful of grain. “Drew is one of my favorites,” he says.
He wipes his hands of excess feed and tells me that he originally regretted attending college and not going into shoeing right away. It wasn’t until he ran into his former professor, Norman Hess, at a local fairgrounds in Ada, Oklahoma, that he realized he made the right decision. “I started to tell Norman about regretting college, and before I could finish, he said, ‘You wouldn’t have been any good at
shoeing horses,’” Milster shares with a laugh. “I turned to him and asked what he meant by that, and he said, ‘You’re never good at something, unless you’re ready.’”
Milster realized his former professor had a point. “I wasn’t ready to be a farrier at the time I started college. I think I would have a chip on my shoulder had I gone straight into it, and would probably lack the passion I have for it today.”
Milster studied at Oklahoma Farriers College—but only for two weeks. “My instructors said I was past what they could teach me, and that I’d be better off going out on my own and making a living.”
The World of Competition
I’m distracted by the number of tools I see around Milster’s shop, and ask how many he thinks he has. Rather than answering my question, Milster walks over to one of several toolboxes to pull open each drawer.
Every shelf is stacked to the rim with different tools. He picks up each piece and notes the person who crafted it quicker than I can write. He explains that they’ve all been created by good friends or mentors throughout the years—but a large part of his collection comes from pieces he’s handcrafted himself.
By now the brick forge is at the right temperature for Milster to begin custom-making Drew’s two front shoes. He grabs a pair of tongs and places the slab of steel into the forge. There are no shortcuts in Milster’s work. Each shoe is meticulously handcrafted to fit the needs of the particular horse he’s working with. “My only goal when I’m shoeing is to make the horse happy,” he says. “When the horse is happy, the owner is happy, the trainer is happy, and the veterinarian is happy.”
He’s often asked if there’s a difference in shoeing for customers versus shoeing for competition. To him, it’s all the same. “Anytime you shoe a horse you’re trying to please someone,” he explains. “In competition, you’re trying to please the judge; in a certification, you want to please the examiner; and in everyday shoeing, you need to please the horse and owner.”
That brings me to my next question: How did he get his start in blacksmith competition? He’s quick to credit friend and fellow farrier Sherrill Spears for introducing him to that world. Milster attended his first clinic with Spears at the American Farriers’ Convention in Little Rock, Arkansas, in 1991. That’s where he first witnessed a tryout for the American Farriers’ Team. “I was floored that something like this actually existed,” Milster says. “I couldn’t believe how talented these guys were, and I realized I had a lot left to learn. When I returned home I grabbed every horseshoeing book or magazine I could get my hands on.” →
Milster once again picks up his tongs and pulls the steel from the forge, placing it on the anvil. His hammer hits the steel to shape the shoe, and the sound echoes through the workshop. Between clinks I ask him about his first shoeing competition.
Feeling inspired after watching the American Farriers’ Team, Milster hit the road again with Spears, traveling to Branson, Missouri. He grins when I ask how he fared at this competition. The contest required him to put keg shoes on a horse with a toe clip— something he hadn’t done before. “I walked away winning it,” he laughs. “The guys I was with were so mad.”
Learning How to Practice
Milster has since worked with a handful of farriers who’ve helped him master his craft, but one person in particular stands out: A legendary blacksmith and farrier from New Mexico named Jim Keith.
Keith’s name comes up often in our visit. Milster first read about him in a magazine. “I decided to drive to New Mexico to attend a five-day class he was teaching and paid $500 for that class,” Milster recalls. “I now go to his place as often as I can. But he hasn’t charged me since that first trip.” A small smile comes across his face