I recently wrote down this memory from last summer and wanted to share it. This experience made me think of the lyrics from my favorite song when I was a kid, "Ride 'em cowboy, don't let 'em throw you down, you can't make no money if you hit the ground". Thank you Juice Newton. Enjoy...
Joe, the barn manager at my old job, is a cowboy. He knows more about rodeos than
anyone I have ever met. He can do things with a horse that I can only wish I
could do. He took part in the planning and execution of a Senior Pro Rodeo in
the local town of Hamilton, MT. He decided that the rodeo should have ladies
amateur stock saddle bronc riding for entertainment. He wanted us wranglers to take part. His
reasoning was that he wanted his wranglers to be able to sit a buck. What better place to practice than in soft
dirt arena with a pickup rider and an ambulance on standby… and of course a
large crowd to watch us hit the dirt. He assured us that the broncs would just buck
like colts. A handful of us agreed to give it a go.
On the first
day of the bronc riding, three of us skipped out of work early, loaded up in my
truck, and headed on the few hour drive to the rodeo. We were excited and
terrified. We brought our saddles with special straps put on the pommels to
give us something to hang onto, rope halters, and bull riding helmets and
vests. We were being stupidly unsafe just getting on bucking horses, but we
wanted whatever protection a bit of safety gear would give us. When we got to
the rodeo grounds, the stands were near full. There were people everywhere
giving us advice. This was the first real rodeo I had ever competed in. I was
overwhelmed, but as a retired college athlete I knew how to focus and put
everything else out of my head. Joe’s son Buck was one of the pickup riders. He
came over to us on his palomino gelding and taught us how to properly dismount
from the bronc onto his horse’s rump. He emphasized that we need to swing our
legs onto the far side of his horse so they are out of range of the bucking
horse. He had seen people break a leg by getting kicked while trying to
dismount. That was terrifying advice! We registered and each of us threw $20
into a pot. The winner would get it all. The winner of both days would get a
buckle.
At last and
too soon it was time to head back to the chutes. We met the local girls who
were taking part as well. One of the girls had done this a few times before. She
looked the part with her flat brimmed hat, her fringed chaps, and serious
expression on her face. Most of us were first timers. There were seven of us
gals crazy enough to take part. A few of us held hands and sent up a prayer to
whatever larger power we believed in. No one wanted to get hurt. Heck part of me
just wanted to survive. The overly competitive part of me wanted to walk away
from there with the pride of a full ride. The insane part of me wanted to win.
Because it was a ladies amateur event we only had to stay on for seven seconds
instead of the typical eight. We were assigned our ride position and horses
were run into the chute. At this point we were able to figure out which horse
we were each riding. I saw that there was a small gray mare in my position.
I was the second to last rider. I saw my
coworker stay on for a full ride. I saw another one of my coworkers get
bucked off and have to limp out with help. Her horse stepped on her knee. I saw
the riders I didn’t know hit the ground. It was terrifying chaos to me. I was
detached and only focused on my own ride. Another bad habit of being an old
athlete, I shut out everything around me when I am getting ready for my event.
I saw the gate crew throw my saddle on my mare and cinch her up. When my turn
was up they helped me get my seat on the mare and find my stirrups. Thank
goodness Joe was just outside the gate helping me find a hold on the halter
rope with my left hand and get a firm hold on the saddle strap (technically a
nightlatch) with my right hand. Joe told me to nod when I was ready, so I
automatically nodded to him. That nod caused the crew to open the gate.
I think I
only held on as a reflex from thousands of hours in the saddle. The mare came
out of the gate fast, but only crow hopping. Within a few strides she settled
down into real bucking. I could hear the pickup rider, Buck, yelling at me to
lean back and hang on. Somehow his voice came through to me in the chaos. Within
the first buck I lost my stirrups, but my right hand was not going to let go of
that strap. Every time I hit the saddle I didn’t think I could stay on for
another buck. I started tipping to the left. After smashing into the saddle a
few more times, completely tipped to the left, I couldn’t hold on any longer. I
had to let go. I pushed off the saddle as hard as I could and fell away clean.
In my mind there was no way I could have made time, but the crowd was cheering,
loudly cheering. I looked at the time clock and saw that I had made it to the
bell! I ripped my helmet off and took off skipping, looking for a way out of
the arena. I had survived and made time. A grin lit up my face and I forgot
that every part of my body was bruised. I was too jazzed up to focus on the
last rider getting on and hitting the dirt. I was glad to see that she wasn’t
hurt, but I was too hyped up to think of anything.
After a bit,
Joe came up to me and told me that I needed to get on a horse for a victory
lap. I looked at him blankly as he told me I won for the day! I had the best
score out of the two of us that made time!! I was flabbergasted. Buck lent me
his Palomino and I ran a lap around the arena, lifting my hat at the stands for
their cheers. Once I dismounted and came
down from my adrenalin rush, I realized that every last part of my body hurt. I
was going to have bruises on top of bruises. I tried to come down from my
adrenalin rush as I loaded up my hurt friend and we headed for home. It was
going to be a late night.
The next
morning I had a half days work, then it was time to hit the road for the rodeo
again. This time I was headed out alone. My hurt coworker was at the doctor
finding out how badly her knee was hurt. My other coworker spent the night at
the rodeo grounds. I had lots of time to think on the way there. I was still
nervous and my body hurt as badly as it did after my toughest track workouts in
college. I was ready and felt great. Waiting for the event to begin on the
second day was harder than the first. I knew what I was in for this time. We
again got ready behind the chutes. Again our horses were run in after we knew
our order. Somehow I ended up on the same little gray mare. The biggest
difference on that second day was that I felt the workers and competitors look
at me with a bit more respect. I was no longer just some foolish girl. I was a
foolish girl with guts and a damn good seat on a horse.
While
waiting I saw one of the first riders make time, then come off into the fence.
She was holding her arm tightly when she limped out. At last I was being
mounted on the little gray. This time she was leaning really hard on my leg in
the box. One of the guys getting me on told me that if she gives me half a
chance, to take it because it might not get any better. She slightly shifted
her weight and I nodded. As the gate swung open, she came out bucking hard this
time. I felt every impact in the saddle through my body. I stayed on for a few
bucks, but I tipped further and further forward on each buck. Then I no longer
knew which way was up. I had no idea what was going on when the soft dirt
caught me on my shoulder. The bell rang as I sprawled out in the dirt. I didn’t
make time, but I wasn’t hurt. It wasn’t until I saw the pictures from that ride
that I realized what had happened. In the moment I tore off my helmet and
skipped around lifting my helmet up to the crown in celebration for not being
hurt! I was still in one piece and going to celebrate it!
Again Joe
told me to stay nearby. It turned out that the girl who broke her arm won for
the day. Joe said that the audience needed someone to cheer for, so he sent me
out for a victory lap on a one eyed sorrel horse. He told me to hold the
winners buckle up and holler at the crowd as I went by. I spurred the little
horse into a run and as I passed the crowd, I hollered and yipped for all I was
worth. I was smiling like a crazy woman! Out of the corner of my eye I saw some
of my friends from the ranch. I felt like a rock star!
It took me a
while to come down from my adrenaline rush that time. I collected my winning
check from the first day of the rodeo. I had people come up to me and
congratulate me. I was met with smiles all around. As I loaded my saddle back
into my truck, every movement hurt my bruised body. At that moment I decided
that this would be the last time I ever rode a bronc. I was lucky enough to get
out of it without a major injury. That was far enough to push my luck! These
broncs didn’t buck like any colt I had ever worked with.
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| The bronc riding crew |
