There’s some fun, some excitement, some danger, some lives that can change forever in a second of time going on off Old Route 66 between Gallup, New Mexico,  and the tiny town of Lupton, Arizona.  What on earth could be causing this stir out there in the red rock bluffs where time seems to flow along slower than the rest of the frenetic pace of life in America?  During the summer months and basically as long as it can be held, weather permitting, young men in search of adventure and the adrenaline rush that can only be had when life butts up right against the potential for extreme bodily harm or even death come to this off-road place to pit themselves against what has become almost a national obsession.  One of the most dangerous sports available to young men of courage:  riding bulls.  

Back in the 1970’s a Navajo man named Jonathan DuBoise began hauling his five bulls around the local rodeo circuit, travelling even farther afield into Utah, Colorado, and wherever he could get to.  Mr. DuBoise had five sons (and a few daughters, too), who grew up with the whole pomp and production of rodeo life, many of whom also got hooked on this dangerous  pitting of man against the bruising, breaking, butt-busting attempt of staying on the back of a massive bull in his prime for those eight seconds.  Most people might never face that amount of fear in that amount of time in their whole lifetimes,  each time never knowing if they’ll walk away, limp away or leave this life altogether, much less face it voluntarily again and again.  

One of the DuBoise sons, Bennie, used to ride bulls whenever he could.  Fatherhood changed the way he felt about it and he stopped riding when he had several children.  “I didn’t want them to see me get hurt,” he stated.  The other brothers also rode, but one day the oldest, Raymond, decided the dangers just were too much.  But the DuBoise boys loved to rodeo, so Raymond decided to supply the bulls and leave the riding to those who wanted to do so.  That was the day the Duboise brothers became the area’s stock contractors and have carried it on until this day.   They have provided the young men who want to participate with the place and the animals necessary to practice their riding.  Some have gone on to ride in the PBR, others have not been so fortunate.  Some have lost brothers.  Some have wound up in wheelchairs.   But they keep coming back. 

As a female, I can’t honestly say I have any idea why these guys do what they do.   To go out and risk life and limb for possibly a shiny carved buckle, or a jacket or money, even a lot of money as is available on the professional circuit.  But, every bull rider I asked that question of responded the same way:  “I do it because I love it.”  Well.   It’s a guy thing, I guess, just something else I don’t really understand.    Testosterone must indeed be a heavy taskmaster.    There aren’t many things in our modern life that demand intense courage and overcoming fear every time it’s attempted, but riding bulls is definitely at the top of the list. 

The latest contest at the DuBoise arena  went on for four consecutive Sundays.    Each Sunday an average of ten to fifteen cowboy/Indians would show up, stretch their legs, pull on their chaps, resin their ropes and proceed.   No nerves seemed to be in existence, there was no sign of even the least bit of trepidation of what they were about to do.  It was like they were going to take a nice, calm buggy ride around the park.  Unreal!  

I don’t know how they do it.  I was out taking some photos of the bulls just standing in the holding pen, I pointed my camera at one and apparently startled him, he jumped (just a little), and I jumped too, then ran.   There was no way he could have done anything to harm me, but just the raw energy, power and size of this son of a cow was enough to rattle my cage.  I can’t even imagine what it would be like to actually climb on his back while he’s so obviously displeased to be there and has no idea why this human is tying a rope around under his belly behind his front legs,  cow bells clanging, tying his tail to his back (which makes him want to buck), cowboys yellin’, all combine to get him moving when the gate is flung open.    Just a little while ago he was out in the pasture looking for a juicy piece of grass to nibble on, minding his own bovine business, and then bam!  Someone comes along, wrangles him into a pen on wheels, drives him into a small space, hustles him into an even smaller space, and then sets him free with a strange being on his back.   Needless to say, all he wants to do is get this thing off his back and go back to grazing, chewing his cud and sniffing the state of female receptivity, so he can do his real job, which is to make baby bovines.   Do I sympathize with the bull?  Hell, yes. 

At the Duboise ranch it’s all-or-nothing, you pays your money and you takes your chances.  There are no doctors, no ambulances standing by in case the bull gets a piece of you, no medical facilities anywhere to be seen.   One Sunday one of the cowboys got the Tuff Hedeman action from the bull – he got hit pretty good in the face as the bull rose up while he was still going down.  He was down and out for quite a few minutes.   This is the real West, folks.   There’s no backup, nobody to patch you up if you fall.   The nearest hospital is about 15 miles away.  Talk about “Cowboy Up!”  These guys, both the riders and the bullfighters, put it all on the line every time they step into the ring.      

The bulls are lined up in the new and improved enclosure (built by the Duboise family and friends, all chipping in like an old-time barn raising).  Participants, family, friends and fans line up their vehicles around the pen, the smell of hamburgers and fry bread  wafting over from the food stand, the electric atmosphere building as time gets closer for the first bull to charge through the gate.   If you’ve ever watched bull riding on TV, as many of us have, it’s exciting and thrilling and can cause you to jump up out of your seat if the rider gets hurt or hung up, but it’s nothing compared to standing right up next to the fence railing, seeing the incredible power and destructive capacity of that bull up close and personal.

This event may be called “amateur”, but in reality, there’s no difference between “amateur” and “professional” other than the name.  It’s the same risk, it takes the same amount of courage and, although the monetary rewards are much less, it’s the same game every time.   There’s no time a rider can get by on his record, there’s no time he is not in mortal danger, there’s no way to be sure he’ll get out of the ring in the same condition he went in.   That’s why bullriding has GOT to be the Number One most dangerous sport young men are participating in, no matter where they do it or under whose name or brand they ride. 

The DuBoise’s provide an announcer, Jon Al Francisco from Houck AZ, who calls the play by play action along with providing music and commentary.   He told me he was not doing it for the money (actually he wasn’t getting paid), but for the snazzy jacket and a buckle they were giving him for showing up with all his equipment.   Plus, it’s family, the organizer of these events, Cash Tom, is married to his niece.   “Money comes and money goes and you don’t really remember it, but if I have a jacket, it’s something I can keep and cherish for years to come.   That’s what’s important.  That’s why I come here,” he told me. 

I suppose it’s the same reason the riders show up.  I can’t say for sure, but it seems to me that once you’ve rode a bull, there’s not a lot else you might get scared of.   Everyday life and it’s mostly imaginary fears pale in comparison to the eight seconds (or less) you have to stay on the back of that bull.  It’s something you would always have in your mind, that you did it, you took the chance no matter the outcome, and it changed you.  Facing fear always changes a person for the better (if they survive it).  It’s the old “whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” and bullriding and bullfighting must then create some very strong young men. 

The next event (weather permitting), will be held at the Duboise ranch on December 16, 2007.  For any interested in riding, you may contact Cash Tom at (505) 713-3740 or, as is the Rez way, just show up and take your chances. 

Most likely, the weather will not be permitting, so the next regular season of bullriding will not be until next spring or summer.  So, for all you guys out there who think you might like to hop aboard, it will be happening at the DuBoise's next year.  Get ready, this is the real thing!