Arena Tracks: 1990s Rodeo Road

The summers were hotter in the 1990s.  I’m not sure there’s any meteorological evidence to back that up, but the earth just seemed to rotate a few miles closer to the sun back then, causing the South Dakota prairie to bake and burn.  On one of those hot and dusty weekends, Patty Jo Burress found herself with an atlas on her lap as the designated navigator for a pickup full of cowgirls as they wound their way from Lower Brule to Scotland.  A recent immigrant from North Dakota, Patty Jo’s South Dakota driver’s license was still warm from the embosser and, unfamiliar with the backroads of the southern Dakota, she was sweating from both the heat and responsibility of getting some fiercely competitive people to the next rodeo before their stock turned out.  There was no GPS in the 1990s and drivers used maps to get from point A to point B. Just like pirates.  

The pick up started the weekend as it always did, packed to the slats with competitors, horses, tack and goats.  Up front in the pick up sat Daryl & Kristi (Lensegrav) Ferguson, Kim (Pederson) Olson, Molly Hepper, and Patty Jo.  A “sister” rig held Jeff & Kristie (Price) Thorstenson and Cody & Tracy (Bail) Maher.  As the performance in Lower Brule drug on, the cowgirls were antsy to get to the next rodeo in Scotland. Putting their heads together they decided to redistribute the rigs, putting the women in one rig and leaving Daryl, Jeff & Cody whose events were holding them back, to the second. The men took the decision with typical cowboy acceptance as the women headed south with Patty Jo in charge of the route and Tracy in the driver’s seat.  When they needed to get somewhere in a hurry, Tracy or Kristi would take the keys and put the hammer down.  

Anyone that’s driven in the northland knows that road construction pops up like a thistle in the summer, where and when it is least convenient.  The lead trailer chose a route dotted with “thistles” and found itself on a meandering detour.  As Tracy took to the side of the road and nearly took the ditch at times, the women heard the ticking of time as it slipped away.  True road warriors, they knew in their hearts they could find a faster route and following their intuition, pulled down one gravel road, and then another.  Eventually, with no sense of direction or where on God’s green earth they were, the crew concluded they were truly, hopelessly lost.  Nervously checking their watches and realizing they needed help, Tracy pulled into a farm place where  Kim (Pederson) Olson popped out to ask for directions, only to be attacked by the fiercest of all farm dogs, a chihuahua.  Dog bite treated and directions in hand, the five women headed to Scotland with what was now a solid TICK, TICK, TICK in the back of their heads.  Kristie Thorstenson remembers saying, “Girls, we might get turned out in the breakaway but we have the goats so I think we will be good for that event.”

Eventually the bright lights of Scotland appeared on the dusty horizon and as they pulled through the gates to the rodeo grounds, they were met by an ambulance.  While they wished the bareback rider inside the best of luck, they thanked their lucky stars for the extra time they’d been granted.  As the ambulance passed, there stood Daryl, Jeff and Cody who, though they had waited until the last bull was bucked and left well after their original rig, had managed to get to the evening rodeo before their wives.  

Without taking time to catch the comments the men were throwing their way, they put the disasssembly line into action; rapidly unloading horses, goats and saddles with practiced precision as breakaway roping was the second event and Kim (Pederson) Olson was first out.  As Kim grabbed her shirt and hat, Kris and Patty Jo went to work saddling and booting up her horse.  The two rose to hand Kim the reins and found their frantic friend…with her hat on backwards. While I can’t find any official results from that weekend, I think we can all be assured that trailer brought home more money than it dropped off.

Such was the way rodeo folks traveled in the 1990s.  Led by Kristi Lensegrav (Ferguson) Birkeland, the crew had a crew cab pick up and stock trailer.  There were never fewer than six in the cab with seven to eight horses behind, tied nose to tail to fit them all in a single stock trailer.  As there wasn’t a living quarters or even a tack room, saddles were stored in the nose with military accuracy to make sure everything would fit. And just to keep things interesting, Kristi was the goat tying director and supplied the goats at the rodeos.  They were either tied in the bed of the pick up, hauled at the front of the trailer or in a pinch, simply run in loose with the horses.  When they pulled into a rodeo, the whole rig exploded with people and horses, goats and saddles, boots and hats, even if they were sometimes worn backwards. The whole production once prompted Jodi Hollopeter to comment, “It’s like watching the Clampets pull into town.”  Most competitors outside the trailer groaned when they pulled in, as it could be assured they would be taking a large portion of the pot home when the lights were shut down.  Their philosophy was to work hard so they could play when the rodeo was over.  But let it be known, they weren’t there just to slack off and have fun. First and foremost, they were there to compete and to win. 

The hands that occupied the seats in that pick up were all winners, competing with one another, but supporting each other just as fiercely.  The closeness that began in an effort to save money and maximize paychecks, had a secondary effect.  It created friendships that have lasted lifetimes and transcended one another’s celebrations and tragedies.  Those relationships run deep and surface when the world proves unkind to provide the support and love needed to deal with tragedy.  

That’s just a part of what rodeo does.