Riding the Rough Stock

I firmly believe that parents should be very careful with what they do with their toddlers. Some of the cute ideas might not be so cute when that toddle grows up. The things that parents do with their toddlers can have a lasting impact on their lives. A case in point is my first bronc ride.

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Decades ago Knott's Berry Farm had no admission charges. It was a great place for families to spend the day without breaking the bank. Of course there were a few "western" type rides, like the train ride through the haunted mine & the stagecoach, that had ticket fees, but for the most part Knott's Berry Farm was a very inexpensive family outing. A day of fun that the average family could afford. There was a photo shop where you could have pictures taken with western props. One of these props was a black & white bucking horse. My thoughts looking back are ewwwwwww, because it was a real stuffed horse. But it did make for great pictures. I'm sure my parents gave no thought to what "riding" that bronc would do to their little, toddling, blond girl. If I say so myself, it is a cute picture. Unfortunately I think that cute bronc ride not only gave me a love of rodeo, it set me up for a life time of seeking the equine adrenaline rush.

I must have been 15 or 16 when I rode my first bronc, although at the time no one realized Red was a bronc. A stable friend, Sue, was getting a new horse. The one she had was too green for a novice so her parents took her to the local horsetrader to trade in her horse. I went along because not only did I love window shopping at Leonard's, Sue's parents wanted me to try out horses before they let their daughter on them. The horse Sue fell in love with that day was a big chestnut gelding she named Red. After a couple of days settling in to his new home, Sue started riding him. The only problem was that he immediately bucked her off. For a week I rode Red in the bullpen, an enclosed roundpen deep with sand. I wore a crop out on his hide as he continued to buck. Every time he buck, I whacked. Finally after a few days he settled into a nice, easy going ride. Sue didn't tell her parents any of this & she hadn't gotten on Red since he threw her. By week's end I had her on him in the bullpen, walking sedately. Then Saturday came & her dad wanted to see her ride. After a short while her dad asked why she didn't him in the arena. She told him that she wasn't ready to ride in the arena with other horses but that I would. I had a bad feeling but into the arena I went on Red. All went well until I got to the far end & then all hell broke loose. His head went down, he squalled & off we went in a bucking frenzy. I could see Sue's dad waving his arm, screaming for me to stop. I knew Red & I were going over the top of him. I finally managed to run Red into the fence to stop him. What a ride! Suffice it to say that Sue's dad had the horsetrader on the phone within minutes & Leonard promised to deliver a safer horse immediately. We later learned that Red had come from the auction the night before Sue got him. In all fairness, Leonard did tell Sue's dad this & that he knew nothing about the horse. What else we learned was that Red WAS an old bronc who had been ridden by a few too many cowboys. Obviously he had been drugged & that was why he was so placid the day we tried him out. Red was an ex-rodeo horse who still wanted to rodeo.

In my early twenties I decided that I wanted to try girls' rodeo. The only trouble was there weren't any around S CA. So I went to some open rodeo buck-outs. Buck-outs are practices prior to the real rodeo. The first bareback bronc I ever got on was called Rocket. And boy do I know why. That horse was out of the chute so fast & high that I don't even remember leaving the chute. All I knew was that I was on the ground looking up at the sky. I attempted a few more broncs over the next few weeks. I even managed to stay on for the 8 second ride most of those. The only trouble was that you still had to hit the dirt to get off. The weekend before the rodeo I had drawn a horse named Pogo Stick. A big chestnut mare. Not long before my ride, the buck-out organizer told the few of us girls that we could no longer ride. Something about their liability insurance only covering card carrying cowboys. We were mad but could do nothing about it & Pogo Stick was redrawn by a card carrying cowboy. Hindsight said that was my good fortune. When Pogo Stick left the chute that cowboy (I no longer remember his name) went up & up & then came down very hard. He lay still & everyone held their breath. He was taken away on a stretcher. He had broken his neck. I can still see Pogo Stick bucking up into the air & that cowboy hitting the ground. I got lucky that day. Maybe that kind of adrenaline rush wasn't what I needed after all. I can't say I've never been on another bucking horse, but I can say I've never gotten on another professional bronc.