I’d never given much thought to the logistics of wrestling a 500-pound cow, but as I rolled around in the dirt, arms locked around a pair of clipped horns and a swinging bovine head, I gave the strategy some serious thought. To end up in this precarious position, I’d volunteered — maybe foolishly — to partake in the O’Neil Arena’s intermission entertainment on the night of May 22.
Situated along the banks of the Crooked River, some 15 minutes northeast of Redmond’s downtown, a series of corrals, bleachers and food carts make up the O’Neil Arena’s “bucking” grounds. On the eve of four mid-summer Fridays, the stands will be filled with both rodeo aficionados and first-time fans alike, all coming to witness the arena’s high octane Pro Caliber Bull Riding Series.
By 6:30 p.m., there’s a tension in the air, an almost palpable electricity that fills the arena. Out of the audience’s eye, the riders go through their pre-ride rituals. Ten-year-old Dallas Marshall prepares his rope in a cloud of dust, rubbing the fibers down in a sticky rosin. He’s been riding steers and mini-bulls since he was five. Next to him is 10-year-old Duke Chappel, training partner and competitor. According to Duke, it’s usually Dallas who wins, and with a paycheck up for grabs, these boys take it seriously.
For all these riders, it’s eight seconds and a bucking, writhing, 1,500-pound animal separating them from the cash prize — or in this case a Can Am 500 four-wheeler. For Cutter Woollard, bull riding is his full-time job.
“During the summer, I’m gone every weekend,” he says. “It’s three rodeos a week.”
These rides have taken their toll. Woollard wears a compression sleeve around his torso, a remnant of four recently broken ribs. Dallas points out scaring on his hands from an unlucky dismount. Veteran rider Levi Grant taps his head, reminiscing on a two-day, bull-induced blackout. There are plenty of limps to go around in the corral.
It’s 7pm now and the riders stand quietly in a semi-circle, heads bowed. Cowboy evangelist G.W. Campbell leads the congregation in prayer. Many of the assembled wear “Jesus loves Cowboys” patches on their chest protectors. It’s a solemn moment and a recognition of the risk faced each time these riders choose to enter the arena.
Campbell begins: “Dear lord, we pledge our allegiance to you and I pray that you keep them out of harm’s way. I pray for the bull fighters who try to keep the bulls away from them [riders] and I pray for safety for them as well.” Bull fighter Cody Messerle nods knowingly.
“We ask for your help, and your strength, and if anybody doesn’t know you in their heart, I pray they’d ask for it right now. Jesus, we give you strength and praise. Amen. Now, let’s ride, boys!”
The gate swings open and out comes Timber Winnier. He’s being bucked left and right, locked in a dead heat against his bull. The animal’s eyes have been wild since long before the chute opened. Winnier is thrown free of his bull, tumbling through the dark soil and missing the eight second second threshold. Zack McVay noted that the bulls can feel the energy in the air, “just like horses.” The same bulls that stood peacefully while Duke and Dallas played over them the day before have been transformed into the writhing animals stomping through the grounds.
The rides continue late into the evening. It’s only been six years since the O’Neil Arena’s humble beginnings as a practice facility, yet the packed stands are not an indication of the competitions’ infancy. The stands will be packed out three more times this season, with qualifiers taking place on June 5 and June 19, with a finale coming on Aug. 22, when prizes will be awarded.
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