Been to the Pendleton, Oregon Roundup. All bull riding Tuesday night. Regular rodeo the remainder of the week. The accompanying picture is a far cry from the horse haulers on display in the streets of Pendleton. Magnificient machines that horses and people alike can bed down in.
I had to ask myself during the event, “What is so appealing about a rodeo?” My college roommate, Jerry Isaacson, and I make this an annual trek, he coming from Vancouver, I from Idaho. How can it be appealing when bull and bronc riders get flung all over the field – some to rise very slowly to limp back to the chutes, one arm dangling in a position of pain; others to be carried off on a stretcher. “I don’t get it Burwick. Why do you enjoy such an obvious activity of trauma?”
I’m not sure. There is a beauty of “wild beast” being conquered by man. It probably hooks into some of my competitive juices – man against animal. There is a connection also, with my appreciation for horses, having raised Tennessee Walkers in Birmingham. And there is a splendor of a bucking, twisting bull’s head going one direction. His rear end going the opposite and someow the midsection, where the cowboy is sitting (tentatively) gyrates in high flying leaps endeavoring to unseat the culprit attached to a rope around animal belly. Ride the bull for just 8 seconds. Must seem like an eternity when bouncing between heaven and earth.
On the other hand, Indian horse races are exciting. The women’s barrel racing is an exhilarating event where animal and rider have the same objective – get around those three barrels faster than anyone else.
The whole attention of the little city is focused on the Roundup. Streets are closed for musical performances. A party atmosphere. “Make mine a diet pepsi, please.” Good time. Looking forward to next year’s event.
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