There are only three truly great rodeos in the world: The Calgary Stampede, Frontier Days in Cheyenne, and The Pendleton Round Up. (This may be a topic that many of you find only slightly more interesting than a review of the latest documentary on sedimentary build up in the lower Santiam River. Nevertheless, among people of the Western United States, a life well lived includes having attended at least one of these events, a life blessed includes seeing all three.) Not just an athletic competition, rodeo is a statement about who, we in the west, are and how we found our way to live in this part of the world. It is an emblematic sport of the common people. The same cannot be said of tennis or golf.

We’ve only been to the Round Up once. It ruined other rodeos for Lydia and we quit going to the Sisters rodeo, “The biggest little rodeo in the world”, after steady attendance for 26 years. It was just that great. I had always wanted to go, but The Round Up is in mid-September and always conflicted with my teaching duties. We finally went the first year after I retired. Now, three years later, we’re going again. Life is good.

Even when retired, life gets busy, things happen, and plans get changed. We’ve not done our usual traveling this year because Lydia has been plagued with bad luck. In early spring she flee and split her forehead on the sidewalk. For weeks she was sequestered at home until the swelling went down and the purple bruising faded. Shortly after she missed her step into a sunken living room, she did not know it was a step down, dislocated her shoulder and broke the ball joint of her right arm. It has been a very traumatic and painful time for her. She had to endure my helping her shower, dress, and cut up her food. Worst of all, she suffered through my attempts at doing the laundry. At long last, she is nearly healed, though she still has physical therapy and daily exercising to regain her mobility. I think that the worst part of the healing has been her inability to do needlework. Even now, her hand is only slowly recovering from the weeks of swelling and inactivity. She cannot grasp a needle. As long as I have known her she has had what her grandmother would call “hand work” at hand while she rested or watched television. It was her comfort and therapy from the daily stress. Our house is decorated with her work, all signed with her initials and date completed at the bottom. I can walk along the walls in our house and take a representative tour of our life together. I know that she is frustrated. I know that she needs creative work back. I wish that I could help her.

That said, we have been stocking the RV for a week up the gorge. We’ll stay in Boardman, along the Columbia, and take the car into Pendleton for the rodeo on Friday and the finals on Saturday. I’ve packed my boots, though I quit wearing them after a foot surgery. (They’re a bit snug now, but boots are a must.) I’m hoping that a week away will help Lyd relax as she works her way back from her injury.

We have other trips planned for the fall. This week is just the first of what I hope will be our return to traveling. We’re just about ready to “saddle up” and “let ‘er buck” as they say at the Round Up. For nearly 50 years we’ve shared adventures together. I hope this is the start of many more.

Blessings   

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