Barry Guillory of Louisiana employs traditional methods to build bits and spurs, fulfilling a lifelong passion for the cowboy way of life.
Story and photos by Ross Hecox
Heavy steel glows bright orange as Barry Guillory shapes it with a six-pound sledgehammer. Sparks shoot across his shop near Pine Prairie, Louisiana, each time his hammer lands on the heated piece of a plow axle he’s transforming into an elegant, handmade spur.
What was once part of a rust-covered, 5-foot-long bar will have a new purpose by the end of the day. Guillory used his torch to cut off a 6-inch piece, as well as to cut a 4-inch split running lengthways down the 1-by-1-inch square rod. After heating it for several minutes in his forge, he is now hammering the steel into the shape of a T. Next, he uses an electric-powered trip hammer to make the branches of his T longer and thinner, leaving the trunk to function as the spur shank. He shapes those branches into a U-shape, using a die that’s the same size as his customer’s bootheel.
Guillory is one of only a handful of craftsmen who builds one-piece spurs. But that alone isn’t what sets his work apart, or what has attracted top cutting horse trainers, ropers and working cowboys to his custom spurs and bits. They appreciate the functionality and the artistry of his work, especially knowing that each piece is built by hand, not mass-produced.
“I get passionate about building the traditional way,” he says. “I put my time and sweat into it. I’m trying to keep a part of the West alive. What you put into a pair of spurs, it’s a little bit of metal, your time, and what you envision. It’s what you can turn something into.”
For years, Guillory made spurs from the track pins of broken-down bulldozers and heavy equipment. When solid metal pins became harder to find, he switched to plow axles. For many, it harkens to legendary Texas craftsman Billy Klapper, who made his spurs from the axles of Model T Fords.
Guillory has also built bits inspired by Klapper’s style and design; another reason he has often been referred to as the “Cajun Klapper.” But that’s not a moniker he has promoted himself.
“I’ve always admired Billy’s work, and I admire how people looked up to his work,” Guillory says. “That’s pushed me to be better.”
Guillory looks up to several old-school bit and spur makers, including John Israel of Oklahoma.
“I respect everything about John, the person he is,” Guillory says. “He’s not worried about money. Greed doesn’t drive what he builds. And for him to be friends with me, to accept me and give me tips any time I call, that means a lot.”
Despite listing several men who have influenced him, Guillory never apprenticed under another craftsman. He picked up tips here and there, studied the work of master craftsmen such as the late Adolph Bayers, and labored for countless hours in his shop.
“I learned through trial and error. Trial and error,” he says. “The first books I got were the Bayers books [Artistry in Silver and Steel, Volumes 1–3]. I would study the pictures of bits and spurs, and I would figure out the measurements. I spent a lot of days working until midnight. You’ve just got to do it. That’s how I learned, by not giving up.”
The state of Louisiana isn’t known as a haven for bit and spur makers. Conversely, the neighboring states of Oklahoma and Texas, with their rich ranching cultures, have produced a long list of respected craftsmen. Guillory says it may have put him at a disadvantage when he started, but now it seems to add to his appeal as a maker. Besides, he’s not one to try and fit in with the crowd.
“I’m outside the circle, but it sets me apart. You can’t follow. Don’t be a sheep,” Guillory illustrates his point. “If everyone is putting floral patterns in their silver, go old school. If they’re doing old-school designs, go do something else.”
Guillory admits he has often felt like an outsider, raised in the woods and bayous of central Louisiana rather than the open ranch country of West Texas, where a majority of bit and spur makers call home. Men such as Bayers and Klapper forged the image of a serious, tight-lipped builder with cowboy roots. Conversely, the gregarious Guillory talks rapidly in a thick Cajun accent, long blond hair feathers against his shirt collar, and tattoos peek from beneath his sleeves. Nevertheless, his broad shoulders and thick forearms match a livelihood that involves swinging a hammer and lifting heavy metal.
“I grew up always, always wanting to be a cowboy,” he says. “But down here it was rice and soybean fields. My dad had a grocery store, and so did some of my uncles. In the summer and after school, I would go work in the fields if I could get out of that store. I hated being caged in there, so I’d go work in the rice fields. Back then we would check rice fields on horseback.
“When I was 11, I got my first horse. She was 2½ when I broke her to ride. And on weekends guys from school and I would go ride, take off on Saturday morning and find a bayou. Tie up the horses, pull the saddles off and go swimming. Maybe sneak up to a store and get some chewing tobacco.”
After high school, Guillory bounced between taking college courses, owning a grocery store, working as a salesman for a meat company and helping run his father’s grocery. Nothing captured his attention for long until he got into the horse business. He bought a cutting horse, began riding with cutting horse trainers and even started 2-year-olds for the public. He showed an interest in building spurs, and cutting horse trainer Bob Bouget encouraged him.
“He kept pushing me to do this,” Guillory says. “He said, ‘You can do this.’ And I was crazy enough to listen to him.
“I also owe a lot to [cutting horse trainer] Pat Earnheart. He got me into the Southern Cutting Futurity, building awards for the non-pro champions of that show.”
That was in 2001. Guillory was 34 and had been building bits and spurs for three years. The opportunity raised his profile, and soon he was building gear for cutters such as Lloyd Cox, Bill Freeman, Kory Pounds, Tarin Rice and Austin Shepard. Eventually, he quit training horses in order to devote all his time to his craft.
“It just kept growing,” he says. “In 2012, I made 70 or 80 pairs of spurs, and 40 to 50 bits. The next year it was completely opposite.”
His work has now attracted interest from ropers such as Trevor Brazile, Miles Baker and Colby Lovell. Recently, he filled orders for working cowboys True Burson, T.J. Roberts and Tripp Townsend. Despite the growth of his business, Guillory continues to operate a one-man shop. And he doesn’t create designs on a computer screen, use a water jet or order parts.
“I respect those guys that use a computer to design their bits and spurs,” he says. “I’ve built some things a couple times using a computer, and it came out nice, but it’s not where I wanted to go. I can’t stand being behind a computer; I start getting anxiety.
While some craftsmen design bits and spurs using a computer, Guillory prefers to draw them out by hand.
“I make my own hangers, my own rowels. I don’t have to depend on somebody shipping me parts. I can build anything I need to. Whenever I drive somewhere, I’m always looking out the window at stuff, and I go looking around in the junk piles for materials.”
His longtime girlfriend, Kathleen “C Cee” Elliot, builds custom leather goods, although not in the Western industry. Nevertheless, the two share a passion for creating gear for a dedicated clientele.
“I tell C all the time, ‘We are so blessed. Look at the people we work for,’” Guillory says. “We create things that are going to be around for a long time.”
Guillory likes to think of how building cowboy gear adds to the legacy of the West and pays homage to time-tested traditions. On a personal level, it connects him to a boyhood passion.
“That’s how I live the dream, through working for these guys who are world champions,” he says. “They’re my heroes, and I get to fit into their world because I build their gear. And by fitting in, I get to honor that lifestyle, those dreams. Man, I get chills when I talk about that.” ★
This article appears in the Winter 2023 issue of the Ranch Record. Would you like to read more stories about NRHC and ranching life? When you become a member of the Ranching Heritage Association, you’ll receive the award-winning Ranch Record magazine and more while supporting the legacy and preservation of our ranching heritage. Become a member today.
