Yes, Virginia, there is rodeo in Nebraska. Nothing like Northwest Wyoming you understand, but decent rodeo for sure.
The rodeo action photography bug first bit me so many years ago the details …
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Yes, Virginia, there is rodeo in Nebraska. Nothing like Northwest Wyoming you understand, but decent rodeo for sure.
The rodeo action photography bug first bit me so many years ago the details challenge 77 years of memory. This took place in the left half of Nebraska on the map; you know, cows and crops country. No cities.
The first major PRCA experience was the Buffalo Bill Rodeo in North Platte. Came away with some nice rough stock photos of Ty Murray, who was in his prime in those days. That’s how long ago it was.
A small Nebraska rodeo or two kept my interest glowing in those days, but what it did best was nurture rodeo photo skills, passion and experience for our move to Powell.
That is when the infection for the pursuit of these unique images became systemic. The affliction remains today.
To a guy like me, rodeo is a bit like a track meet for the wildly diverse ‘looks’ of the images.
High jump looks nothing like hurdles which look nothing like long jump which looks nothing like shot put. You get the idea. In that same way, team roping looks nothing like barebacks which look nothing like steer wrestling which looks nothing like barrels.
The accompanying photo makes my point. The tie-down contestant, piggin’ string clenched in his jaw, steps off his horse which is applying the brakes in a shower of arena dirt. The loop encircles the calf’s neck while the rope is still suspended in the air. Catchlights in both animals’ eyes are bright and sharp.
So much peak action in a single shot is captivating. Also rare. Of course, bull and bucking horse trips the same evening look very different from this shot. I love that variety compared to a basketball, baseball or football game in which frozen moments are much more likely to look similar.
Working for the Trib in Powell as sports editor was paradise for a rodeo shooter.
Everything from the Cody Stampede during PRCA Cowboy Christmas to the Cody Nite to a wild annual rodeo down the road in Ralston was laid at my feet.
One year over in Ralston, I watched the most confused rough stock I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if they were plumb green or perplexed by the arena layout or what, but we had horses crashing head-first straight into the arena fencing directly across from the chutes on the full buck. Then, no idea where to exit the arena. It was something.
One young man astride a bareback horse had the critter go all the way over backward, pinning him beneath its body. Given a re-ride he climbed on a second animal only to have the exact same thing happen again. Having by some miracle evaded getting his chest and abdomen crushed, not once but twice, the guy climbed aboard for a third trip and won the event.
You don’t see this kind of insanity at a sedentary, whispering golf tournament where a camera shutter must not ‘click’ before contact with the ball.
It’s late summer now, which means the pace is about to pick up. Two different statewide associations’ last pro rodeos followed by their season finals, a couple high school events, one or two small-town rough-stock-only evenings and the three-day PRCA Oregon Trail Rodeo are all on my radar from now into early September.
Will I get to every performance? No. Will I dang sure try? You bet.
Northwest Wyoming this ain’t, but it will be a hoot just the same.