The
Pendleton Round Up
211 miles east of Portland off of Interstate 84, Sept. 15-18.
For tickets and information, call 1-800-457-6336.
Lodging in Pendleton
fills up fast during the roundup, but the local chamber
of commerce provides a list of hotels, motels, B&Bs
and guest ranches in nearby cities from La Grande to Walla
Walla, Wash. Call 1-800-547-8911 or e-mail the chamber at
Pendleton@Pendleton-Oregon.org.
The Pendleton Round Up is a lot more than summer's coup
de grâce. It's one of America's last traditional
rodeo events, originating in 1910, when the community joined
together to drive cattle. Held in the eastern Oregon home
of the Pendleton Woolen Mills, the roundup lassoes in people
from all over the world to experience the old-fashioned spectator
sport of rodeo. The roundup puts on additional events, including
the Happy Canyon Pageant (an unintentionally campy historical
extravaganza), a carnival midway, a completely non-motorized
parade and street-held breakfasts and barbecues that feed
thousands of rodeo-goers.
If all the word "rodeo" conjures up for you is the image
of a small calf being chased down, roped and tied on a dusty
track, you're selling short one of America's most notable
sports. Sure, there are issues within rodeo, such as animal
cruelty, that deserve scrutiny, but it's wise to remember
that rodeo is a farming and ranching tradition, and each
of rodeo's six events echoes one of the basic chores of
horse and cattle raising. Professional rodeo riders have,
over time, shaped these tasks into contests that combine
speed, skill and, perhaps most importantly, insanity. For
who else but a crazy man would risk getting his back broken,
chest gored or head stomped by a bull or horse that wants
nothing to do with being cinched, saddled and spurred?
The most dangerous event in professional rodeo is bull
riding. A piece of rope with a cowbell on it is all the
cowboy has to hold onto as the 1,500-pound beast beneath
him spins and jerks across the dirt arena. Points are scored
for staying in control of the animal, but there is only
so much time before the bull says, "The buck stops here."
His assertion of superiority occurs right about the same
moment that the rider is hitting the dust and running like
hell to avoid getting stomped.
Saddle bronc riding originated in the cowboy's quest to
break a wild horse and tame it to ride. Whichever rider
can make staying on the saddle of a bucking horse look the
easiest is the winner. Bareback riders, however, don't have
the luxury of a saddle--they have what amounts to a suitcase
handle to hang on to for dear life as the horse jumps and
bucks out of the chute. You can spot a bareback bronc rider
by the size of his arms. If you see a small man in a big
cowboy hat with lower arms that look like steel girders,
it's likely he's a "riggin' rider."
If tackling and pig-tying a baby cow seems unnecessarily
cruel, it's probably because you've never spent an afternoon
chasing an errant calf around your ranch. Calf roping is
a complex contest. First, the calf is released for a head
start. Then, the cowboy must catch it using a looped rope
called a reata. When the calf is down, the cowboy must gather
and tie three of its legs. Steer roping is a similar event,
but the stakes are higher because the older cows are craftier
and more cantankerous.
Roping a steer is one thing. Wrestling it to the ground
is entirely another. The steer wrestlers are the giants
among cowboys who jump off their horses and grab fast-moving
bulls by their horns and grapple with them (while keeping
their hats firmly in place). This is a contest between man
and beast that proves what big poseurs the WWF guys are.
You can't teach a bull to fake a headbutt and collapse.
The exhilaration of watching these riding and roping events
is more direct and emphatic than the televised thrill of,
say, basketball or hockey. It's a cinch to catch on to the
basic criteria by which each ride is judged. In no time
at all, it's possible to discern that the saddle bronc rider
must keep his free hand from touching the horse or risk
disqualification, or that a spinning bull gives a rider
more points than a merely bucking bull. In the bareback
bronc, bull riding and saddle bronc events, each rider must
stay on his mount for at least eight seconds, a time qualification
that has earned mythic status in rodeo culture. The time
limit became apotheosized by one of rodeo's most tragic
incidents, the death of rodeo star Lane Frost in the bull-riding
event at the 1989 Cheyenne Frontier Days. The video tape
of the death ride is endlessly speculated upon by rodeo
aficionados and lovers of ghoulish, public tragedy.
All right, it's true--the rodeo tradition is based on frontier
machismo and, beyond the women's barrel-racing event, it's
100 percent guys. But as a display of manhood, it's a pretty
funny show. Featherweight bull riders and thick-necked steer
wrestlers stand side by side--dusty, bowlegged and raggedy.
These aren't Marlboro men or Ralph Lauren's vision of ranch
hands. They are athletes whose uniform is a dirty pair of
jeans and a Stetson. Because the prizes awarded at most
rodeos are belt buckles, there is a fierce hierarchy based
on what's holding up your pants. To monitor what a professional
rodeo cowboy has won, you have to look at his crotch, and
its no surprise that rodeo groupies are called "buckle babes."
So if your urban psyche is feeling battered by traffic,
cell phones and the downtown din, toss that PICA invitation
in the trash and escape to the wheat-carpeted landscape
of eastern Oregon, where you set your watch by cow time.
A little shit-kickin' can do you a world of good.
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Willamette Week | originally
published September 15,
1999
|
