It's Mud and Guts and Glory, One Mortal's Chance at Fame...

Last night I journeyed east to Berryville to watch my good ole' buddy Kim run some barrels in the Berryville rodeo. Anytime I've ever watched Kim run barrels, she's taken home money. Last night was no exception.

The first summer I ever took to the rodeo road was in 2005 after I graduated from the U of A. That summer was one of my favorites of all time, because I was in between graduating from college and beginning graduate school at Texas Tech. My destiny for the next year and a half was set, so the summer was care-free. I worked in the hay field during the week, then went to rodeos on the weekends. Life was great.

The rodeo life has been a dream of mine since I was a small human. I grew up on horses, but was never competitive. Basketball became my life, and the potential of getting into rodeo took a backseat. However, once I got into college, my basketball career had run its course. When I was a freshman at the U of A, I met Kim, and seven years later she's still my best buddy.

She grew up rodeoing and introduced me to the sport of team roping. I've never been a can chaser, but once I picked up a rope I was hooked. So, during that summer, I decided to give breakaway (calf) roping a try and entered up at Arkansas Cowboys Association (ACA) sanctioned rodeos in the Harrison area.

For about three consecutive weekends, I loaded up and headed to Kim's house south of Harrison where I would load my horse and gear in her trailer and we'd take off to the rodeo.

ACA rodeos would run Friday and Saturday nights with no overall averages, so I'd stay the weekend and enter up both nights. I entered up twice at Mountain Home, Lead Hill and then Berryville.

Entry fees were about $50 each night, and for the first five times I entered, I donated my fees to the winners. Berryville was my last rodeo to enter that summer, and until then, I'd come up empty. In fact, I didn't even catch until the first night in Berryville, but I broke out and came in second. Unfortunately, they only paid first place. Dang the luck. The second night, I finally won and took home enough money to nearly break even. That one tiny win was enough to hook me for life. the competition in the arena is you against everyone else. If you lose, it's your fault and only your fault.

Monetarily, my success wasn't great, but the fun I had loading up on the weekends and venturing to those rodeos ranks that summer at the top of my list. The people that all know each other over there, who go to these rodeos every year and every weekend - they were great and became great friends and a Harrison family to me. They helped me learn the ropes (literally) and were right there to encourage me each time I left the arena after missing and help me learn what I was doing wrong.

And once I finally caught, they were right there to celebrate. That camaraderie is unbeatable in this atmosphere.

On the other side of that story, each rodeo we went to, Kim also entered up in the barrels. But, the difference here is she took home money every night she entered. I'd be $50 poorer, and she'd usually be $150 or more richer. Usually it was more than that.

As long as I've known her, she's never been a competitive person. I'd get all huffy up over an intramural basketball game that really didn't mean a hoot to anyone. Kim would calm me down and remind me that, well, it didn't amount to a hill of beans that we lost to a group of guys in a pick-up came at the Rec.

The same could be said about other things throughout college. But the first time I watched her run barrels, I saw a whole other person. Since the rodeo pen, as a competitive arena for me, was intimidating and a new experience, I was a nervous wad of a rookie just trying to get in and out of the arena without doing something stupid and making myself look like an idiot. Granted my competitive spirit would lead me to beat myself up over missing, but I still found it a success to escape without falling off or something embarrassing. I just wanted to prove to the world and to the people over there I was capable (but obviously need a lot of work!)

So, Kim gets out there and just whoops up on everyone every night in the barrels. She belonged in that arena. I saw rider and horse become one. Her modest confidence was inspiring. I used to feel that confidence on the basketball court, but once placed in the rodeo arena, I was suddenly a rookie desperately trying to earn my right to be there and the respect of the others who had been there for years.
Well, I haven't been back to the arena in a while as a contestant, but my dream of doing so is as strong as ever. Going to Berryville last night put the poison back in me. After grad school, Kim spent a year and a half in Washington, D.C., and returned this spring to Arkansas. Now she's back in the arena, whooping up on people again. Only this time, she's earning money toward qualification into the ACA finals this fall. I asked her how she fared Friday night in Berryville, and she said, "We had a good run," which meant she won first place.

That lifestyle is where I feel at home. The smell of saddle leather, the hot summer Arkansas nights, even the horse sweat are intoxicating. Add the thrill of leaving that arena a winner, and it's an addiction unlike any other.
I won't be surprised to see Kim get to the finals in October. While such an accomplishment is just a dream of mine, I know one of these days I'll be back in that arena donating my entry fees again, but having the time of my life.

Coming up next: makin' hay and makin' cat wigs.