At last the day came when...

I went to the rodeo! 

Now, I have to be honest, I had my reservations. Cows are beautiful. They may slobber all over your hand when you feed them, but they're lovely and, although I would never pat a bull, they're lovely too, so I didn't know how well I'd get on with bull riding in particular. It turns out, I got on pretty well! Granted I was cheering for the bull more often than the cowboy, but it was great to experience a part of Texan culture and I saw some serious skill being executed, especially with the lassoing.

Let me start from the beginning...

It began with the American flag, held by a cowboy on his quarter horse, who entered in walk and exited, after a few laps, at a gallop. When the national anthem began, my hand was on my heart and I was fully engrossed. The grin on my face was enormous.

Then came the bull riding. The bulls were beastie! Huge bruisers with tattoos and horns. The aim of the rider was to stay on for 8 seconds. Only a few managed, while others were flung under hooves and into fences. I was hoping this sight would put my hubby off running with the bulls. It did not. 

You may have noticed in this short clip the rodeo clown in the barrel? He was my favourite participant of the rodeo. His job is to 'distract the bull'. He sits in his barrel and waves his arms up and down to grab the bulls attention when he looks to be getting too close to other, less protected participants. When the bull charges at him, he ducks down inside his barrel and, on some occasions, is tossed around the arena. I can only imagine the words that issue from his mouth when that happens! Probably 'wee!' and 'I love my job' I'm sure. 

After the bull riding came the lassoing. There were a few events:

- lasso and tie, which is when a cowboy lassos a calf around the neck from horse back before jumping off and tying its legs together. I was so impressed with the horses, who were trained to get in really close to the calf and tighten the slack on the rope so it couldn't injure itself or the cowboy.

- team lassoing, which is when one cowboy lassos the neck and the other lassos the back legs (my mouth dropped watching this event. Catching a running calf's back legs with a rope from charging horse back? Yeah, sure, I could do that!) 

- cowgirl (power to the peeps) lassoing, which is timed on how quickly they can rope the calf. (Sorry for saying 'peeps') 

Then came the children's events and the moment when my mother's English mouth fell onto her lap. First, they called any child between the ages of 8 and 11 into the arena. The rodeo clowns announced the aim of the game - to catch the ribbon...from a calf's backside. Whaaaat?! No way, I thought, there must be a rodeo clown dressed up as a cow or something, but no, they released a calf into the arena and thirty children rushed after it with ribbon-lust in their eyes. If that happened in England, with all our health and safety laws, even the calf would be arrested. 

It gets better.

Children aged 7 and under were called into the arena. The aim of the game was the same - catch the ribbon. Surely not, I thought as I watched a toddler wobble across the sand. By now, my mother was gasping for breath. They will not release a calf, I told myself, no way! And I was right. They didn't. They released a sheep (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

The last event was the barrel racing. Cowgirls were timed on how quickly they could ride around three barrels and back to the starting post. They were incredible! Chaps flapping, hair flying, they kept their horses tight round each barrel and in full gallop to the next. I loved this event! 

So there you have it, my first rodeo experience! I will always cheer for the bulls, but I loved watching the skill and the precision of the cowboys and cowgirls as they lassoed and rode. A great insight into how they worked and still work on the ranches. 

FYI: When taking a trip to see a rodeo at Fort Worth Stockyards, you must first pay at the old school parking meter where you slot the money into the number that corresponds with your space:

(This is my lovely dad!)

You must then view the longhorn cattle drive down the street:

And finally, you must ingest some Texas BBQ and Shiner Bock beer (made only in Texas, y'all!): 

 (Note that I thought the jar was full of pickles, and it was only when I reached for one that my 11-year-old sister-in-law informed me they were jalapeños. She saved my life.)