Sisters hosts its 60th rodeo

Inside the Sisters Rodeo arena is a maelstrom of cowboy hats, Wranglers and belt buckles the size of license plates.

Twelve-year-olds with programs hound every person that enters. Most buy one, probably as much for Dennis McGregor's cover art of world-class bull fighters Rob Smets and Rowdy Barry as for the information inside.

The clamor inside renders an air of excitement for this, the final day of the 60th annual Sisters Rodeo.

Smets and Barry, the bullfighting stars of this year's show, sit at a folding table by the entrance, signing posters and programs, chatting with the spectators.

"So are you guys going to ride today?" a woman beside asks as Smets scribbles his name under his picture on her program cover.

"Nope," Smets responds, peeved but polite. "We're going to fight."

A drizzle has begun to descend, quelling the heat but not the hubbub of the crowd as 1 p.m. rolls around.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the rodeo announcer hollers to signal the opening of the rodeo's final day. "Welcome to the greatest place on God's green earth!"

The crowd isn't as large as it was for Saturday's performances, but nearly as loud, as the Pepsi girls fly around the arena on horseback. They criss-cross and zig-zag in perfect formation as energetic music blares from the loudspeakers.

The junior princesses and queens join the act, worried as much about their waving as their riding. A few of the men in the first few rows make sure to wave back.

"They do a good job, don't they?" the announcer remarks. "And they look soooo good."

After John Wayne explains over the loudspeakers why he loves America and Peggy Tehan sings the national anthem, competition begins.

The wild horse race starts as clown Donnie Landis fires a shotgun into the air. Eight teams of three cowboys wrestle with their respective eight horses, trying to catch, saddle and ride them.

The program accurately labels the event as "mass confusion, fury and drama." The horses throw cowboys to the ground, drag them through the mud. Thirty seconds after the competition begins, half the men in the arena crouch with their hands on their knees, huffing vigorously. In another 30 seconds, they're finished, and most exit caked in mud.

Calf roping is next, then bareback bronc riding. A few of the horses thrash in their stalls and thrust their upper-bodies over the gates in the chutes. The rider holds a handle strapped to the saddle-less horse's back with only one hand as the horse kicks and jumps and flops harder than a fish on shore.

If they complete the eight seconds to qualify for a score, they then dive onto the "Dodge pick-up guy's" horse or spill to the ground.

The second-to-last competitor slams into the arena wall as he is thrown from the horse, and the crowd is silent for a moment, reminded of the previous day's rider who suffered a broken pelvis.

But the cowboy waves his hand and limps off with a grimace. The audience explodes in applause.

Steer wrestling follows, and the audience winces each time a cowboy wrenches a steer's neck far enough to give it a view of its own rear end.

Saddle bronc riding is next, followed by a special exhibition of Friesian tandem-riding.

Clay Meier sits one of the huge, black horses, holding the reins of another which paces a few feet in front. The two horses move in unison, making figure-eights through a slalom course and leaping over jumps in a display of remarkable training.

The team roping competition features cowgirl Tami West, who is trying to be the first woman to go to nationals in the event. She and Ryan White threaten to win the event, roping the steer's neck and hind legs in 5.6 seconds, but are penalized 10 seconds for leaving the gates early.

Barrel racing, the only women's event, follows a brief intermission. The riders race out, circle three barrels, and then race back to the starting line where an electronic eye measures their times to the hundredth of a second.

Finally, the main attraction begins. Rodeo clown Donnie Landis rolls out his barrel, and Smets and Barry enter the arena.

"Oh, this'll be good," a spectator announces to a friend. "I love the bull riding."

The enormous beasts buck and twirl and sling snot as each rider tries to meet the eight-second standard.

All wear chest protectors, and a couple don helmets, though the announcer reminds the crowd that they would provide little protection from a well-placed hoof.

There are no Dodge pick-up guys for this event; the only way down is to take a dive. Then it's up to Smets and Barry to keep the bulls away, slapping them between the horns as soon as the rider dismounts.

Glenn Miller, president of the Sisters Rodeo Association, says the crowd and the world-class cowboys made this year special.

"Sisters has always been a good rodeo," said Miller as he snapped pictures of the hard-working volunteers who put the rodeo together. "We pulled a super-good crowd. It's the first big rodeo of the season, and people are ready to get up and party a little."

"This rodeo gets better every year," said Ron Alexander, who has been volunteering for three years. "We have a great bunch of people who watch, and we get a lot of local support."

Larry Dudley, who has volunteered for two years, says the Sisters Rodeo is special because the people in the area have been learning it, experiencing it, and bringing the kids for 60 years.

"Look at the people who come, they're not all wearing cowboy hats and boots," he explained. "Anywhere you go in Oregon, they've heard of the Sisters Rodeo."

Saddle bronc riders Matt Marvel and Johnny Hammack say the fact that the Sisters Rodeo has the biggest purse of the 27 rodeos in the nation the same weekend was just one of the reasons they like it.

"This is one of our favorite rodeos," said Hammack, a Redmond native. "The committee is great. They do a great job organizing it."

"And," Marvel added, "of all the rodeos I compete in, this one is probably in the prettiest place. It's a small-town big rodeo, and there's nothing like that."