By Cardi Mendez
Bright and early, as I step foot on the Tucson Rodeo Grounds, I take in the perfectly coordinated hustle and bustle—a routine that clearly demonstrates something that has been perfected over the course of a century. Take away the livestock, and the amount of leather in the vicinity and it would have you thinking everyone is gearing up for a Judas Priest show in the 80s. As the chutes started to fill and the gates swung closer to opening, one thing was for certain: there was a uniform, and those who didn’t abide by it surely stuck out.
The bleachers began to pack with eager spectators of all ages—and I mean all ages. From newborns to some that were surely closer in age to the actual rodeo itself. As if the back-to-back-to-back sold-out shows weren’t proof enough, one thing was clear: cowboy culture was not just surviving—it was thriving.
The first event was bareback bronc riding—eight seconds on the back of a horse specifically trained to get you the heck off. The all-leather fringed chaps rapidly bounced to the same tune as the horse’s mane and tail, all while a cowboy hat was flung 12 feet in the air and the rider did his best to ensure he scored a good ride. After eight seconds, the bell rang, and the crowd erupted in a roar, accompanied by the sounds of a stampede of cowboy boots on the bleachers.
Competitors cycled through, eight seconds at a time, and the events that followed included steer wrestling, barrel racing and saddle bronc riding. It all lead up to the electrifying grand finale everyone was waiting for: bull riding. Like the bronc riding events, bull riding was also determined by an eight-second ride—and the hope that you didn’t end up on the wrong side of a 1,700-pound beast.
Now, with an atypical amount of excitement packed into a single day, it was clear that the statement these modern-day cowboys were making wasn’t just about grit, strength, toughness and tradition—it was about style. Each time these riders stepped into the arena, they donned exquisite, all-leather chaps with intricate, hand-tooled designs and branding and a leg’s length of fringe that would be sure to get them noticed on their ride—as if they would’ve been easy to miss otherwise. This was all carefully curated to match their embroidered Western-style button-up shirt, a pair of boots beautifully crafted and formed by hand, a cowboy hat and worn American blue denim with fades that would put any self-proclaimed denimhead to shame.
Throughout the week, I found myself sneaking behind the bucking chutes and weaving underneath the bleachers to get the perfect photograph. By the last day, as I sat beneath a crowd of thousands of passionate rodeo fans, it was clear that this was more than just a competition. More than just eight seconds on the back of a bucking bronc or bull.
This was a way of life.
This event alone brought together people from all walks of life. One of the crowned winners of the bull riding finals hailed all the way from Goondiwindi, Queensland, Australia—a reminder that this is more than just an American tradition. I got to talking with Hawaiian cowboy Koby Jacobson, and when I asked, “What is something rodeo has taught you that you will carry with you for the rest of your life?” he responded without hesitation:
“Everybody can be a friend. Everyone helps everyone. That’s something I’ll forever carry with me—that kind, cowboy tradition.”