Madison Long
Life Editor
Due to space restrictions, an abridged version of this article was published in the 2025 September issue of The Bengal.
The music roars through the speakers, the hypnotic rhythm catching even the most uninterested observers. Our bodies move in unison – stomp, stomp, clap, stomp, stomp, clap – overpowering the announcer and turning all eyes to Mason Reine.
Sitting in chute six, Reine, the freshman bull-rider from the College of Southern Idaho, huffs up his mussy-brown hair, catching any loose strands in his black helmet. He begins his ride rituals, flapping his arms up four times, shaking his left hand out thrice, and looping his right hand in the bull rope twice. He swings his leg over the bull in one motion, using his thighs and core to keep him centered on the bull as it lurches forward.
The roughstock team beneath him flurries to tighten the bull’s leather flank strap as the crowd begins singing.
“We will, we will rock you.”
Reine takes a deep breath, watching the cool air curl around him as he exhales.
“We will, we will rock you.”
His eyes close briefly before he’s tightening the sliver of reins he has on this beast.
“You got mud on your face, you big disgrace.”
His left arm corkscrews up, eyes locked on the rodeo clowns.
“Kicking your kind all over the place, singing.”
The gate unhitches at his nod.
“We will, we will rock you.”
The bull takes off out of the gate, rushing forward violently to shake Reine loose. His blue pearl snap Wrangler shirt puffs at his chest, creating a makeshift airbag. Left, right, left, up, side back. The bull never stops, popping a wheelie or two in the middle of the arena, hoping to toss Reine over the side. The roughstock team leaps out of danger, clinging to the gate.
8 seconds. Blink once, and he might be down. Keep your eyes open. and Reine may just become the first bull-rider of the night to score. His knuckles are white, desperate to stay on.
The crowd has fallen silent, although one or two still keep the stomp, stomp, clap rhythm. The air is stale, no one daring to breathe, but everyone subconsciously leaning opposite the bull, holding Reine on just a few more seconds.
Buzz. The timer rings out, and Reine’s shoulders release their tension. He’s only just now aware that he wasn’t breathing before, his lungs rapidly trying to refill with air as he untangles his right hand from the bull rope.
The pick-up men ride their stallions beside him waiting for Reine to latch on. They drop him off by the chutes, far away from the bull’s reach as it bucks back into the loading chute.
Much younger kids are too preoccupied with catching moths and crawling into the mud to care, but the Bannock County fairgrounds rodeo arena practically shakes with excitement, the aged wood breaking slightly beneath our feet. We admire the contestants as they show off their cowboy skills, roping up cattle and riding roughstock in the September ISU Bengal Round-Up. With eight key events – saddle bronc, bull riding, steer wrestling, tie-down, goat tying, barrel racing, break-away, and team roping – the ISU Bengals and other teams from the National Intercollegiate Rodeo Association, specifically the Rocky Mountain Region, compete to showcase their grit, speed, agility, and teamwork.
Before the American cowboy emerged, the 19th-century Spanish-Mexican vaqueros built their own saddles, tamed wild horses, and gained fame through “Buffalo Bill” Cody’s Wild West Shows. After performers in his show walked out in 1936 to protest for fair pay, they organized the later-to-be-renamed Rodeo Cowboys Association, which today hosts hundreds of events with more than 5,000 active competing members.
Competitor ranks only continued to expand after the National Intercollegiate Rodeo Association was founded in 1948, which currently has 12 regions split across the nation. Each region participates in 10 rodeos with the hopes of qualifying to the College National Finals Rodeo.
“Now we mean business,” calls the announcer.
“What are we watching now?”
“I wanna say steer wrestling, but I can’t see a dang thing.”
“Yeah, because the peanut gallery wants a close-up shot.”
“Well, the peanut gallery is about to end up flattened with a hoof print on their face.”
“Oh, oh,” Elan’i Gorostiza says, slapping me, “steer wrestling!”
I literally just said that, I think. I can’t even get my camera up before the steer is down and pinned. The baby calf gives a small body roll before he’s contentedly meandering off to the loading stalls.
“Next one is from ISU,” Charmaine Lowe calls, “Riggins Kiggins, I think.”
Perfect. There’s only a moment or two before the steer is released, Kiggins hot on his trail. His hazer, another ISU contestant, follows him close behind, working hard to keep the steer straight enough that Kiggins can lean off for the tackle.
“Nope,” comments Tatem Mogus. “He’s turning away.”
Never does a steer actually behave as wanted. The “little” 450lb animal spins circles around the riders, weaving ahead until he sharply cuts the corner to rest by the loading chute. Kiggins seizes his chance. He pushes the livestock back around the bend, ready to go again.
Buzz.
Kiggins continues forward, ignoring the buzzer. His eyes are dead-set on the steer as he leans over the left side of his brown stallion, his stetson hat flying over his shoulder, somewhere lost in the dust. He grips the steer’s horns, facing him head-on, digging hard into the dirt. The sweat pools on Kiggins’ contorting face as he uses every bit of strength in his body to flip the steer over.
“There is no quit in that cowboy,” retorts the announcer. “He does this every day of his life; he does this for real.”
One more push and Kiggins does it, using his legs as a springboard to flip, push flat, and bear-hug the steer. He releases with a huff, smacking the layer of dirt off his jeans before retrieving his hat.
The crowd cheers once more, Kiggins raising his left fist in the air.
Victory.
Beyond this arena, beyond the lights, he’s not done the best he can, but he finished. He’ll likely go back home and rework his moves. He’ll spend hours outside the arena, hours inside, and a few more just dreaming about it. To us, rodeo is a quick trip to the fairgrounds to admire the prancing horses. For them, it’s their whole life, starting with mutton-bustin’ at age five and ending as a pick-up man or rodeo clown keeping every contestant safe.
