Ruidoso Free Press
July 17, 2012
11
Ranches, rodeos and rookies I was born umpteen years ago in the middle of a city. I’m told I was nearly born in the hallway of the local hospital because there was literally no room in the inn (or maternity ward, as the case may be). I’ve always been an overachiever. In my first 19 years I learned city survival and unique ways of handling Sue Hutchison urban issues. I can show suehutch@valornet.com you how to trip street weights while driving to make green turn arrows magically appear. Back in the day, I could recite the freeway numbers and their destinations in Southern California nearly in my sleep. Still to this day when I’m out there, I avoid the 91 at all costs. I pride myself in being fluent in city-ese. I was not born in ranch, farm, or rodeo country. I’ll never forget the first few months I lived in rural Oklahoma near dairy and pig farmers. It would have been easier for me to live in Taiwan. My new friends and I spoke two completely different languages. I was convinced the local six aisle grocery store owner who wrapped my meat choices in front of me personally knew the specific bovine he was grinding prior to its fatal trip to the meat processor. When same said processor would phone me to inform I had just been given a quarter beef and asked how I wanted it processed, I just passed the phone to my man. (He always told the meat guy to make it all ribeyes…) Farmers and ranchers alike have always been polite and tolerant of this city girl. That’s just the way they are. Where in Southern Cal we have a “you don’t matter” attitude (it’s inbred), in farm and ranch country, men stand in the presence of a woman. They tip or remove their hats, ma’am and sir folks to death and give people like me the benefit of the doubt. When prayer is offered or the pledge of allegiance is spoken, hats stay off, they stand and respect is shown. The 20th Annual Smokey Bear Stampede Ranch Rodeo July 7 at the county fairground was fascinating. I freely admit I’m a ranch rodeo rookie. Camera at the ready, I was determined to document it. Due to the torrential rain the day before, the arena was one giant mud bog. I knew Sea World has one but had no idea there was a splash zone at the rodeo. Proudly I wore mud splatter as I hung over the rail to grab photo shot after shot of the action. I truly didn’t have a clue about the events at the ranch rodeo. I didn’t know a thing about each contest until the announcer described the event. He was probably politely informed by the aforementioned farm and ranch men there was an ignorant city girl writer in the grand-
stands who needed Remedial Ranch Rodeoing 101. I watched calves who entered the arena with white hides turn brown after they had been dragged through the mud behind obediently galloping horses. There were chaps tied onto ranchers which exited the arena more than 30 lbs. heavier due to the mud attached. I learned ranchers value their hats. When one flew off in the flurry of trying to rope anything in sight, time was allowed to retrieve it. It was almost an issue of reverence and respect. One hat which was yet another mud receptacle was replaced on the rancher’s head after retrieval. I almost yelled, “Don’t do it!” I held my tongue. I knew I was outclassed. I knew several folks in the stands who actually understood the events. The Wilson family was there in full force, watching their two youngest participate in the festivities. Fifth generation ranchers, I should have sat next to them – they’re very patient with this city girl. I’ve already asked them countless questions about ranch life and I’m sure they would have politely answered all my rodeo queries. Polite never goes out of style. Even those like me who weren’t reared with it can adapt. It just takes a few rancher types who are willing to show rookies the way. In the next few months we’ll all be called upon to muster
Sue Hutchison/Ruidoso Free Press
Above, mud roping at Capitan Rodeo, 2012. At left, a cowboy never forgets his hat.
our polite muscles as continual flooding, upcoming elections (sigh), and where-to-find-moremoney issues abound. I think we live in a wonderful place to flex those muscles and show the rest of the country what it looks like to face adversity with class, cultivation and chivalry. Perhaps a monthly rodeo would do all of us some good. Trying to muster up the courage to ask for help in her first cowboy hat selection, Sue Hutchison can be reached at suehutch@valornet.com.
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