Are you alright Cowboy? Let's Rodeo!

Growing up in the UK a rodeo was as far from my reality as Christmas in the sun, yet six weeks in Oklahoma and I’ve already experienced two. It is of particular importance to this post that I mention nothing in this blog has been twisted, or exaggerated, but merely retold as it happened. And on that note I will tell you of my experience…

I’m not sure what was more surreal to me, the invitation to a rodeo in a small Indian village, or the invitation coming from an excited European who has clearly spent too much time in the US. Nevertheless one Norwegian, two Britons, one New Zealander, one Swede, one Spaniard and of course, one American, piled into the car for the half hour journey to the annual Chickasha Rodeo!

It wasn’t until we arrived at the dirt-track ‘parking lot’, took a wrong turn into a Mexican wedding anniversary and were swiftly ushered out and into the correct building for which we were more aptly dressed, that I realised I had no clue what a Rodeo was. Of course I’d heard of the phenomena as something you see in old cowboy westerns but I honestly could not have told you what they entailed... 

So for all of you out there who were as confused as I was here are a few definitions:

Rodeo; cattle herding turned into a very competitive sport where different ranches compete with each other in a series of different events involving lassos 

Cowboy Surfing; an event at a Rodeo where a cowboy lays on a mat tied to a horse and holds on for dear life while he/she is dragged around an obstacle course in the arena 

In true British fashion the first thing that crossed my mind when these men were racing around on what seemed like wild horses chasing cows with nothing but cowboy hats to protect their heads, was ‘Where is the health and safety?!’ There were men flying off their horses left right and centre and no standby paramedics rushing to their sides with oxygen, or even a Band-Aid, hair dressers can’t wear heels at home in case they fall the 4 inches to their deaths. Their only consolation was the comforting "You alright Cowboy?" booming across the microphone...

If that wasn't enough to make me nervous at half time a hoard of children filled the arena to try their luck with the calves. I couldn't watch as they raced around in excitement trying to be the first to grab the sticker off the calf’ ear and win a prize. No calf was too big for these fearless children; there were tails, feet, and ears being pulled from every which way, but it’s all in good fun. 

As well as the main show homemade burgers were provided and homemade jam was for sale from the local retired cowboys who also organised a wholesome raffle with a prize of two engraved handguns. 

I can't say this was my favorite experience to date but it was the most American! All in all it wasn't as exciting all the bull riding competition I attended, fortunately not as a participant, but that story is for another day.