Open Writing

Dean's 1938 Chevrolet was a very small car. Beside the driver's seat was a passenger seat but behind there was not a proper seat, it was more like a shelf. Dean and I were in front because from time to time we would share the driving, so Jessie had to make herself as comfortable as possible on the shelf.

We were up at 6.30 a.m. on Saturday 29 July and left Golden bound for Cheyenne, the capital of Wyoming, 103 miles due north. We didn't have very much money between us, so to save expense on accommodation we took a small tent, which Joe had kindly lent us and also a stove and frying pan to cook our breakfasts. The road we took ran parallel to the mountains, the high Long's Peak being one of the prominent features. We had to drive through Longmont, so on our way called in to see the Nelsons. We didn't have a camera and Mr Nelson was kind enough to lend us one for our trip.

Every year one of the biggest rodeos of the west, 'Frontier Days', is held in Cheyenne and this is where we were making for. The nearest I had ever got to a rodeo was seeing pictures of one. This was the real thing, no amateurs here, real cowboys, real bucking broncos, cows, calves and Brahma bulls.

There were parades of horses, bands playing and everything mount¬ing to a fever pitch as the cowboys took their turn. A horse appeared behind a gate leading into the arena. Above the horse a cowboy straddled a narrow passageway. He dropped onto the horse, the gate was opened, and the horse leapt out into the arena. The cowboy held on to a rein with one hand and his other arm was straight up in the air. The horses bucked like demons and the winner of the contest was the man who could stay on the horse's back for ten seconds. If there was a tie, the winner was judged on the best performance. The majority ended up in the dust after just a few seconds. These cowboys did this for a living, going from one rodeo to another. How many broken bones they collected I don't know, but one thing I was sure of is that they were tough.

Then came the Brahma bull riding. These were huge animals with a hump at the back of their necks. When a rider was thrown from a bronco, it was usually caught, calmed down and led away. Not so with the bulls. The same procedure followed here, as the cowboy dropped onto the back of the animal then it was released. The difference here was that the bulls were inclined to object even more than the broncos to a man riding on their backs, and when he fell off they were annoyed enough to turn on him. So, on the entrance of the bulls two clowns also entered the ring. Their job was to protect the cowboy, who could be on the ground, and divert the bull's attention, which sometimes meant they had to run for their lives and clamber over the fence round the arena. This called for considerable courage. Added to the noise and dust this all caused much excitement. These I loved, but best of all was the roping of the calves.

A calf was let out at one end of the ring. It would chase madly across the arena, and almost immediately, with a 'whoop', a cowboy on a horse appeared. He had to race after the calf, lasso it, jump to the ground, pounce on the calf, tie three of its legs together then raise his hand in the air. The winner was the man who accomplished this in the shortest space of time. If the calf wriggled free (though one rarely did) he was disqualified. Of the whole operation the one thing that amazed me was the performance of the horse. As soon as its rider lassoed the calf and leapt off its back, it stopped dead, then started to move backwards, so keeping the rope between the calf and itself absolutely taut. The cowboy would never have achieved his objective without the cooperation of his horse. I thought the whole performance was absolutely riveting - even today, all these years later, I can feel the thrill of the cowboy throwing his lasso and the marvellous part his horse playe**

To read about Jack's wartime experiences please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/to_war_with_the_bays/