In Ariège, the last clog maker in the Pyrenees passes on his know-how to two young enthusiasts

Winding mountain roads lead us to the small town of Arrien-en-Bethmale, nestled in the heart of the Ariège Pyrenees. In a charming hamlet of stone houses, there is a clog manufacturing workshop. “Does it still exist? wonders a walker. My great-grandfather was a clog maker, but I thought that profession had disappeared,” he admits. In France, there are less than ten artisan clog makers, and Pascal Jusot is the last one to work in the Pyrenees. However, since he opened his workshop in 1984, his workload has not decreased and his clients come from France and abroad. “Sales of decorative clogs have declined, but those of garden clogs have increased. I make 200 pairs each year. This market is doing well, and we are seeing a new desire to garden. »

In his workshop, open to the mountain, Pascal maintains ancient know-how, that of Bethmale clogs. Recognizable by their long tapered point, they are worn by the valley’s folk dancers and are a delight for collectors and museums. Pascal also makes gardening clogs and small objects like pencil holders or corkscrews. He also organizes guided tours of the workshop for schools, businesses and tourists. This diversification is essential to the survival of its profession. And that of a technique of which he has been, for forty years, the sole custodian. But not for long…

A child’s dream

Since April, Pascal has been training Barney Vander Cruyssen, 30, and Julien Cazalé, 40, in his dying profession. Both are passionate cabinetmakers. They did not know each other, but decided to take over the clog-making workshop together, each part-time, in addition to their cabinetmaking activity.

“It’s a childhood dream come true,” Barney begins, his eyes sparkling. As a child, I discovered the craft in a museum in Normandy, and I found it fascinating that you could make a shoe from a tree. My mother gave me a pair of clogs, which I later learned were made by Pascal! When I heard that he was retiring and looking for a buyer, I quickly answered the call. » Julien didn’t hesitate either. Originally from Ariège and the son of a carpenter, he is very attached to safeguarding local heritage: “The clog is an important territorial marker in the region. I would have found it a shame if we abandoned this emblem, and if ancestral know-how disappeared. » The two motivated artisans wish to increase the production of garden clogs and gain technical expertise and visibility. Bethmale’s clogs are designed by hand, from a tree that already has the shape of the tip. “The research work is tedious,” observes Pascal. Once the right piece of wood is found, you have to rough it up with a saw, cut the exterior to give it the shape of a shoe, then hollow out the interior. Everything is done by eye and by hand: it requires five days of work. »

Crucial gestures

For garden clogs, Pascal taught his successors to use old machines, shapers and diggers. This reduces the manufacturing time to three hours. But the finishing, sanding and varnishing are always done by hand, with suitable tools. “Every gesture is crucial to making quality clogs,” emphasizes Pascal, a perfectionist. Customers appreciate their comfort, but also their healthy and sustainable appearance: they are designed with trees from the valley, which can be found near the workshop. We are a long way from the plastic Crocs made on the other side of the world! » he notes, with a smirk. And drying the wood for three months makes Ariège clogs particularly strong and resistant.

In Ariège, the plan to resume clog making is welcomed by many residents. “We launched an online crowdfunding campaign and the feedback shows us that this project makes sense. Many Pyrenees are sensitive to the fact that an old and useful profession continues,” enthuses Barney. With Julien, they continue to train three days a week with Pascal and are looking for a new location to settle in. Who knows where their hooves will take them?