Gone to see a man about a harness

Cutter sleigh

Snowy Farm (note new French doors)

I have been looking for a work harness for Gideon now for quite some time. My goal was to find a used one, so I spent a bunch of time online and perusing the classified ads in our local paper, The Country Today (if you're ever wondering about milk prices or want to get a helpin' of old-timey rural lore, look no further). Unfortunately, this method wasn't working out, as I felt a little insecure about buying something sight unseen and nothing was coming up that was in Gideon's size, which is basically Size Dinosaur. As we recently acquired a SWEET ride from our friend Jim Sundholm in the form of a cutter sleigh and have over a foot of the white stuff out here, our search for a harness has become more urgent indeed.

When I've asked our neighbors out here about how to go about finding a harness, many have suggested wandering around for a while until I find an Amish person and asking him where his harness maker lives. I don't know about you, but I found this method to be a little vague and somewhat intimidating. Luckily, as per usual, our hero Bill Beyrer got me the goods: the actual general location of a harness maker. So Jay and I trekked out to Medford, WI, which is little over an hour away. All we knew was that the place was called Shrock's Harness Supply, and was located somewhere on Wren Drive. And this was good enough for us! As we drove, we started to notice the lack of propane tanks and surplus of driving horses in the pastures, thus knew we were in the right territory. Sure enough, there it was: a little wood-burned sign under a mailbox that you'd surely miss if you weren't looking with intent. Jay hopped out and double-checked with a man driving his thick-built team of bays across the road, and he pointed to a gray building.

The harness shop was something to behold: a warm, dark barn crammed with harness parts, jingle bells, brushes, tack, bits and every kind of equestrian-style minutae you can possibly think of. And within minutes, Urias Shrock was there to help us. I have to say I found Urias to be completely charming in every way. I'm guessing he was in his 70s, and built like good farm stock, with the standard round-topped black hat and long wispy-white beard, sans mustache. I think we puzzled him with our desire to go back to the old ways. At one point I mentioned that with oil prices the way they're going I had the feeling horse farming may come back in to fashion again, and the look he gave me - the twinkly-eyed twist of a smile - could only mean one thing: "Well, duh." So today I took Gideon's ample measurements and mailed them into Urias Shrock, because I'm getting a harness custom made for my plus-sized Belgian. And then Urias Shrock will drop me a line via U.S. mail when my harness is ready for pick up in January.