This is My First Rodeo!

It was Spring Break of my senior year in college. I had planned to spend it earning some extra cash. I worked weekends in leather store not far from home, and I was hoping for some extra hours. For some reason, I was not put on the schedule. I had a week to decide what I was going to do with all that free time. Most of my friends had already planned trips to Cancun, Puerto Rico, Bahamas, etc. It was too late to change their plans to accommodate me. So I thought about where I would like to go. I like big open spaces, a warm climate, animals, and country music. And I've always wanted to go to Texas. Soooo.... why not go now? I was able to book a flight (during class) with a few days to spare. Before I knew it, I was on my way to San Antonio for Spring Break!

By the time I arrived, picked up my rental car, found my hotel and checked in, it was pretty late and I was tired. I settled in, and slept surprisingly well.

In the morning, it was a thrill to wake up and realize that I was in Texas! That's a long way from home, a little shoreline town in Connecticut. Sure, I'd traveled before, but never alone. I had a whole week to myself - for the first time in my life! What would I do? I realized that I had no idea where anything was. That was unsettling. My hotel did have a very nice pool. I supposed I could lay in the sun all week and go home with a killer tan. Tempting, but I just couldn't sell myself on that plan. So I went out searching for food. My waitress suggested a ranch just outside the city that offered horseback rides. That's all the motivation I needed. I was going to explore this strange new city! I toured the Riverwalk, La Villita, the Missions, the Buckhorn Museum, the Brewery, and the Alamo. I went shopping, and I ate foods I never would have considered at home. I went out dancing at night and I had the time of my life!

One night, I found myself at the Far West Rodeo. It's a huge honky tonk at the edge of the city. This place puts Billy Bob's (Fort Worth, Stockyards) to shame. From the outside, it looked big. The first thing I noticed was a sign at the door: "Check Your Guns Here". Once inside, it was overwhelming. Staggering. It seemed like miles of dance floor, bars and tables everywhere, people talking, laughing, drinking, dancing. Cowboy hats and boots everywhere. A ruckus off to the left - someone had just been thrown from the mechanical bull, to the crowd's delight! I made my way to the bar, and ordered a beer. A bright eyed, bleached blond, 50-something lady caught my eye. "Y'all not from around here, huh?" she shouted to me. Um, no. How could she tell? "Your boots are too pointy!" I resolved to fix that the next day. I paid for my beer and lost myself in the crowd. I discovered an entire upper level, large enough to require two separate DJ's and three smaller dance floors, in addition to the vast array of pool tables. I was truly awed. People were friendly. There was nothing like this back home.

Later in the evening, I was searching for a Ladies room. I'm not sure what happened, but I stumbled upon a whole new jaw-dropping surprise. There was an arena at the far end of the building. An announcer was urging people to find seats. A strong young cowboy caught my arm. "Hey there Honey. Y'all gonna watch my ride?" Um, OK, why not? He found me a spot right up by the rail, and told me to "Wait here till I git back." Seemed like there was going to be a rodeo. I'd never seen one before, so I might as well stick around for awhile. I could always leave if I wanted. But this was nice, sipping a cold beer from a longneck bottle on a warm Texas evening. It felt good to be leaning against the fence with my forearms, absorbing the sights and sounds. It was somewhat comforting to feel the packed earth under my "too pointy" boots and to inhale the earthy aromas of livestock and hay. I watched the first few events, not really understanding the scoring system, unable to distinguish a good performance from a poor one. Calf roping, steer wrestling, whatever. I got myself another beer. Finding nothing better to do, I returned to the arena and surprised to see my spot at the rail still available. Texans have manners. Barrel racing, bareback broncs, I was getting tired, thinking about going back to my hotel.

Then I noticed a shift in the energy of the crowd. Then a hush, while the final event was announced: Bullriding! The crowd erupted and stomping boots thundered through the wooden bleachers. More announcing, another hush. Suddenly, one of the gates shot open and a one ton wild beast exploded out into the arena. With a cowboy on his back! Holy mother of crap! THIS was AWESOME!!!! A veteran cowboy next to me spit through his teeth and explained the basic rules to me. The cowboy has to stay on that bull for eight seconds in order to be awarded a score. Honestly, I didn't really hear anything else he said. The next bull and rider came spinning into the arena, swirling so fast they they were just a blur to my untrained eye. The cowboy lost his grip and flew through the air in one direction while a huge rope of bull slobber flew the other way. "No score for the cowboy!" I was hooked. I could actually feel this moment making an indelible mark on my life.

More bulls, more riders. Some scored, some didn't. One pulled groin, one dislocated shoulder. No injured bulls. Only a few more contestants. Hey, look! There's my cowboy! He's climbing onto the back of a big black bull. He wraps his hand with his rope, and settles onto the animal. Before he can raise his hand, the bull starts and kicks the chute. It sounds like an explosion, and I can feel the vibrations through the wooden rails. My cowboy re-wraps his rope, raises his hand, and gives a slight nod. The chute gate busts open, and this raging black bull storms into the arena. He bucks wildly, spins to the right, then whips to the left. My cowboy is riding hard, perfectly balanced, spurring for all he's worth. 5 seconds .... 6 seconds .... The bull makes a sudden change of rhythm and momentum, jumps straight up in the air and bucks my cowboy off. Time stands still, there is no sound. My cowboy slowly arcs through the air, seemingly weightless. I think my heart even stopped beating.

Back on the hard-packed earth of the arena floor, the massive black bull continues his raging wild dance. My cowboy lands with a sickening thud in the very center of the melee. The announcer shouts the all-too familiar "No score for the cowboy!" The bull bellows in victory. There is a moment when I can see the crazed look in his eye. His hooves are flashing and slicing through the air. Clods of dirt are flying in all directions. The earth trembles and thunders with every impact. Gobs of slobber and snot rain down with soft splats. My cowboy is crumpled in a heap while the storm rages above and around him. I cannot believe the has not been trampled into unrecognizable mush. The bull is in a frenzy now, his victory dance spinning faster, his leaps and bucks growing more violent.

A clown finally gets close enough to slap the black beast's shoulder. The trance is broken, and the bull stops short. He focuses on the clown, and the clown runs like hell. Mission accomplished. The crowd breathes in relief as the now docile animal trots back through the gate like a well trained puppy. I notice that my hands ache, I've been gripping the rail so tightly that they are completely white.

Two more riders compete, and the rodeo is over. The crowd slowly melts back to the rest of the building, ready to buy another round, dance a little more. I see everything with new eyes. Somehow this rodeo has changed me. I can't really figure it out just yet, it all has to sink in before I can sort it out. But I know I loved every second of the bullriding. And that strong young cowboy? He managed to come around for a dance or two. No big deal, happens all the time.