Sunday, February 21, 2010


We used to go to the big local roundup every year, we were a lot younger, and knew pretty much everyone there.  Himself & the other local ranch kids worked in the background, clearing the arena, pushing up calves for the roping & dogging events. Moving bulls, horses, calves, and equipment to keep the show going under the watchful eye of their dads, or uncles. It took a special group of men to put on such a big event, even in the early years.
 At the end of each day's rodeo the boys would be up themselves in the wild horse race. Each three man team lead their horse onto the track, a shot gun was fired to start the race. More often than not the cowboys came away bloodied from the horse that had just kicked, bit, and stomped them as they tried to get a saddle on him.  If they got him saddled, one cowboy was thrown up on him and handed the halter rope, and expected to hang on for one trip around the large oval track.  All amind the other horses and cowboys running a muck. It was great fun, and a fair amount of money changed hands as we all bet on our home ranch teams. 
Seems it was often raining during roundup in those days.  So the arena was more mud bog than anything.  I sat on the hood of the ol scout and watched the events, right beside all the action.  It was the best seat in the house as far as I was concerned. 
Work schedules have kept us from going for quite a few years, but this year I'm going! Some new memories are sure to be there.