Mustangs and Rodeos: four days in Steamboat Springs
Steamboat Springs was the first good-sized town we came to in Colorado, and we warmed to it right away. It's main attraction is skiing. In fact, I read that they call it Ski Town USA because it has sent more athletes to the Winter Olympics than any other ski town in the nation. It also has miles and miles of hiking and mountain biking trails too, a lovely paved path along its Yampa river, and lots of great boutiques, galleries and restaurants.
The town is surrounded by ranch land, so there are plenty of cowboys around. So it makes sense that they hold a Pro Rodeo here every weekend in summer. We happened on the Rodeo grounds accidentally while out for an evening bike ride, and the aroma of BBQ ribs and the live country music lured us in to join the family fun for a couple of hours of good entertainment.
The bull riding and saddle bronc riding were the most exciting. As I watched these hardened, wirey cowboys get thrown around and bucked off and sometimes stomped on, I couldn't help comparing them with wimpy professional soccer players who writhe around on the ground in mock agony when they get tripped. At the rodeo, when a guy gets hurt, there's no referee stopping the play, no stretcher being rushed onto the field, and no special treatment on the sidelines.
I watched in horror as one cowboy's hand was still attached to the rope around the bull's back after the bull threw him off. As he was being dragged along, the bull trampled his legs until one of the assistants on horseback (sorry I don't know their proper title) got him detangled and he slid to the ground.
By now the bull was being well distracted by the clowns whose job it is to keep the riders safe, but it was clear this young cowboy was not able to stand up. Eventually after pointing to his legs, two other cowboys came to his aid. With an arm around each man's shoulder, he was able to get himself off the field without the use of his legs. Now in any other sport we'd surely see a couple of physios run onto the field, a golf cart to carry him off or at least a stretcher. Not in Rodeo. These guys are tough.
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A couple of the bulls awaiting their performance |
Another event took place in Steamboat the weekend we were there - a Mustang Festival. The four-wheeled kind. A section of the main street was blocked off and lined on both sides with Mustangs of all colours and eras. Every one had its hood propped open to show off its gleaming insides, and a sign describing it's pedigree. A market of local crafts and food vendors was set up next to the cars, and there was pleasant live music.
Personally I've never been hugely attached or overly attentive to any vehicle I've owned, and I can't remember the last time I polished one! But I know that for some folks cars are their passion and hobby. So I watched with interest (well, maybe more like amusement) as the owners sat next to their cars, eager to answer any queries from other like-minded admirers, and beside them a big stack of neatly folded polishing cloths and various polishes. They love their cars.
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