Sunday, February 21, 2010

ROUNDUP READY

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.  

14 comments:

  1. I would *love* to take my kids to one of these! I hope you go this year and have a splendid time -- and bring back lots of photos!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Susan: Your crew would have so much fun. Not to worry I'm going, come hell or high water!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sounds like a lot of fun to watch(-: Hope you have a great time!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Sounds pretty spectacular, especially with all the mud flying and the riders hanging on for dear life. I'd like to see it.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I cannot wait to hear all about it. Have a wonderful time.


    PS Brighid, since I am unable to comment with a Name/URL and must use a google ID it insists on linking back to my old blog for some reason. :(

    http://grannymar.com/blog is where I live.

    ReplyDelete
  6. As a young lad I grew up on a staple of novels and comics besides movies on the West. Your post takes me back to those days and I envy your closeness to the things that are happening evening now!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Cindee, Does your crew ever come down to the RB Roundup?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Nick, It was a pretty wild time. I'll try to roundup some video to show you.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Grannymar, You'll be the first to know if memory serves me well.
    Think I've fixed that address thingy.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Ramana, I'm not as close to the action as I was, but still love the ranch life and small town USA.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I went to a number of small rodeos as a kid, but because no one in my family was involved I always was the outsider. Such a rich heritage and history you have!

    ReplyDelete
  12. My vet in Florida lived for the Wild Horse races each year. Guess he didn't get beat up enough during the year by cranky horses.
    Takes a special breed of guy to participate but any kind of girl can watch.
    Have a ball and take pictures. Make me homesick.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Just wanted to say thank you for leaving the Celtic prayer on Renee's blog. It's beautiful and so very true. I might have to make something with that saying and it's perfect.

    There are so many words surrounding Renee and all are beautiful but yours gave me comfort.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Brighid, everytime we went to Pensacola it was to visit friends, so we didn't do the tourist thing. It is a resort...beautiful beaches and lots of stores. You can also rent canoes and take in the nature preserve areas which are stunning. I also think they have an aquarium which might be a lovely change for you. Enjoy the spring weather there and the love of your family.

    ReplyDelete