Now for ya'll that know me, you know that goin' a little country is the roots of my raising.
I'm a bit more comfortable getting lost in the woods than I am in a big city. I can fathom starting a campfire more easily than finding a parking spot in San Francisco.
That said, you know I also love the urban area where I live. The art, the music, and oh the food.
So this weekend, the two sides of me managed to converge in one geography.
You see, there is this establishment just south of San Francisco called the Cow Palace. I am not making this up.
I remember the first time I visited the Bay Area. I remember driving north on Highway 101 from the airport and I saw the sign for the Cow Palace. I was like "WTF?" (I believe that is a direct quote.)
A palace for cows?
I got my first chance to visit the venerable Cow Palace about eight years ago for a car show. (Yes, I own it, I like car shows) I found it to be an odd yet intriguing place. It reminded me, on many levels, of Albuquerque's own Tingley Coliseum.
While wandering the halls of the Cow Palace that car show day, I noticed there was a wall of grainy black and white photos of old men in cowboy hats. I was told then that the Cow Palace has hosted a rodeo for many years. "Well, cool" I thought. But then thought "the Bay Area doesn't know nothin' 'bout goin' country."
Each year that I've lived here, I'd see on the news the story about the kickoff to the rodeo. A longstanding tradition where cowboys drive a small herd of longhorn cattle down a busy urban street to the Cow Palace. Here's a link to this year's story complete with photos and video: Moo!
I always wanted to go see what was doing at a rodeo held at a palace for cows, but due to a lot of circumstances that don’t bear explaining here, I spent a lot of time alone in those days (despite being in a relationship). I was never brave enough to go to the Grand National Rodeo by myself.
This year is different. I am in a relationship with The Good Man. My Brooklyn-born, City raised fiancée. There is no way I'd ever have thought he'd be into the rodeo.
Man, was I ever wrong. Another good lesson in tempering expectations, eh? (May The Good Man always be such a source of surprise for me.)
Several weeks back, TGM sent me the links to the rodeo and said he wanted to go. He'd gone to the Grand National a few times in the past and enjoyed it, but hadn't been in a long while.
For me, come May, I'll have lived in the Bay Area eleven years. So it's been at least that long, maybe tack on a couple more, since I'd seen a rodeo myself.
Saturday rolled around, the last day of this year's rodeo, and we made sure we didn't miss it. I pulled on my fave Fat Babies, did my hair up high as the heat and humidity would allow, and we hit the 2:00 pm show. We even managed to get ourselves a couple real nice box seats.
Wow!
What an impressive show. It was a tight two-hour rodeo with great cowboy competition. In between events, they had top notch entertainment like Tenessee Walking horses, Open Hackamore reining events and the best was Tomas Garcilazo, a genuine and incredibly talented Charro (and his horse Chollo too).
I was oh so very worried about going to a San Francisco rodeo, not knowing what it would be like here in the big town. I had nothing to worry about. It was great. As soon as the first bareback rider came blasting out of the gate, I knew all about it. I was right in my element.
We had *the best* time. When the rodeo was over, we wandered the cowboy art show, shopped the mercantile, and generally took in the sights.
All of that was followed by kick ass eats at Milagros. Nothing puts the topper on a day like hand smashed guacamole…oh, and a glass of sangria.
What a great weekend…
Turns out the Bay Area DOES know a little bit about goin' country.
Confidential to my best friend in Las Cruces:
No, it didn’t compare to that cold rainy night at the rodeo in Silver City. But then that night was more about the post-rodeo party...
