Rope, Ride and Rally: Cowboys of Tucson Never Give Up

From the hard earth to the cowboys that work it, Tucson is one hell of a tough city. Even the plants are ready to fight; everything you bump into in the desert is some kind of cactus that wants to leave you wincing with pain. It's the sort of land that makes its inhabitants comfortable with discomfort, and thus, is a natural stomping ground for rodeo riders. By the turn of the 20th Century, hardscrabble ranch hands had already begun wrestling steer and riding bucking horses for kicks, and soon they were making bets on who could pin an animal the quickest or go the longest without being launched into the dirt. To this day, Tucson still boasts one of the most exciting rodeos in North America, La Fiesta de los Vaqueros, where ropers and riders from across the country converge every February to prove their valiance in front of an audience that can swell to over 10,000 strong. Chuck Henson recalls the old rodeo well. The 86-year-old spent most of his life battling intimidating beasts – first as a competitor, then as a clown. And the latter position helped him secure a place in the Rodeo Hall of Fame. For most men, one losing battle against a raging hunk of horned muscle would be one too many, but Henson and the cowboys he came up with had already begun accepting pain as part of the job. As Henson explains, a bull once left his leg shredded so badly that bone stuck out through his clown pants. As for the ranches that spawned the rodeo community in the first place, they still operate in the vast stretches of desert around Tucson. They're just not as involved in rodeo life as they once were, explains Russell True, who hosts a small weekly rodeo for his guests who stay at the White Stallion Ranch. Ranchers today have more land to themselves, and that generally keeps them busy. And competing in rodeos is challenging: Rather than being a hobby for ranchers, it's generally the purvey of trained athletes with arena-size ambitions...more