A Lifelong Commitment

In 1968 an eighth grader named Dennis Parry helped to sell concessions at the Snake River Stampede for the Exchange Club in Nampa, Idaho.

In 1992, he joined the Board of the Snake River Stampede, filling his father’s old spot of overseeing the concessions and the parade, which had involved the utilization of both father and son’s keen retailing skills.

In 2003 and 2004, Dennis Parry was the President of the Snake River Stampede Association.

Today, Dennis is the organizer of the ‘Buckaroo Breakfast’…an early morning kick-off to the Stampede’s festivities. It is, after all, the most important meal of the day. And what Dennis does is, after all, very important to the Stampede. He’s been a part of it for at least forty-two years and counting.

What has transpired in those forty-two years is his story alone to tell. I got some bits and pieces of it from him recently, as I visited with him at his office at the back of Lloyd Lumber in Nampa. He is the business manager there.

Dennis recalls what he termed the ‘Old Stampede’, where the local Scouts, volunteers, and the American Legion formed a cooperative effort with the City of Nampa to help with the parking of the cars at Lakeview Park, near the Old Stampede grounds…what was known to Nampans as the Green Arena. It was imperative that this be carefully coordinated, because there were sprinkler valves to be considered. One car parked in the wrong place and damage would occur, at a cost to the City. The ushers really had to know what they were doing. They even had a ‘Director of Parking’ to supervise the effort.

“There was a lot of Nampa support,” Dennis said, “You have to understand that back in those days, there was really not that much to do. There were one or two big events during the summer. And the thought of just running into Boise for no good reason would be considered ‘wasteful’.” The Stampede season was big to the people of the community.

“The Lions, Kiwanis, Rotary, Exchange and 4-H Clubs would sell concessions, and they still do this. When they understood that the Stampede would be moving to the new Idaho Center, these clubs worried that they’d get left out. That was a big concern. The majority of their funds for the year were raised at the Stampede.”

But they weren’t left out. They are still the chief vendors at the Snake River Stampede; the Board does not let any outside vendors sell at the Idaho Center during the rodeo, other than a few non-competing vendors, such as Mini Donuts, The Nut Guy, some Italian Shaved Ice, and a coffee vendor. The real food, the stick- to- your- ribs hot dogs and hamburger stuff…is sold by the Clubs. The community (and its clubs) are still very much involved. Despite the move from the old green arena to the Idaho Center, no one got left out.

The Board tries to bring a little of the old green arena into the Idaho Center each year. The put up what they call the ‘arena wrap’: green and gold wrapping that drapes the newer arena in the old arena’s colors. This takes no small amount of time, but what a worthy effort in the name of nostalgia.

To the die-hard green arena goers of the past, Dennis offers this:
“One hundred degrees in July versus eighty degrees at the Idaho Center.”
You just can’t beat the air-conditioned comfort. Not to mention that the seats are a far sight more comfortable than the seating of the old arena. Those that might not have been able to take the heat of an outdoor event could now much more easily attend the indoor event. Not a bad deal.

There was a little issue with the dirt at the new location during the first year or two. Initially, according to Dennis, the Idaho Center’s intended use was for the Snake River Stampede, and many other agricultural functions. But the concert crowd had their eye on that huge arena too, and before long they were desirous to hold concerts there. The floor, however, was all in dirt. This did not stop the first concert, which Dennis said was the Moody Blues (or would that be the ‘Muddy Blues’, because of the flooring?)

The folks at the Idaho Center attempted to roll the dirt out, covering it with a carpet-like material. Looking out over the floor seats at the concert, those from the bleachers could see ‘wavy’ rows of chairs. Not too groovy. By the third concert, the Idaho Center could see that there was going to be a need for concrete.

With a concrete floor, now the dirt was going to have to be hauled in, and installed. This was no small feat. Holes were made in the floor, in which were stuck steel stakes, then 2 x 12 boards were wired to the stakes. These sections were then filled to the height of those boards, and probably a little bit beyond.

The type of dirt was another consideration. It couldn’t just be any old dirt; it had to be safe enough for those competing and their horses in the events of such things as bareback, saddle, and bull-riding. One twisted limb from a huge dirt clod and there were problems for that horse and rider. But about four or five years ago, Dennis told me, they found what they were looking for. A place was being excavated in Boise and they got the dirt from the deal. It was sifted and sifted and sifted some more; until it was virtually rock-free. This dirt, I was told, is ‘recycled’ the day after the rodeo, and taken in a big scoop truck, hauled off to a contained area.

The Stampede is very protective of its dirt. The Monster Truck guys don’t get to use it. The Idaho Center has ‘other’ (no doubt inferior) dirt for them. The only ones they might consider allowing a loan of the Special Dirt are the PBR organization; or maybe something ‘Ag’ related. (Everyone else need not even ask).

Dennis spoke of the livestock contractors. Once the rodeo begins, he said, it’s really their show; they’re in charge. Mike Cervi, formerly of Butler Brothers, started a contracting outfit years ago out of Colorado, and his sons now run the show…literally.

Dennis was also impressed with the rodeo announcers. He said they know, live, and breathe rodeo. They’ve done all of the research, including a competitor’s style of riding, the horse’s name; everything. They keep the ‘sound flow’ going, as if they were two DJ’s, or TV personalities. Because there are two of them, and because they’ve done their homework, they always have a topic to talk about.

Although, he said, ‘slack’ is a very different critter altogether. Slack happens before the evening performances. This is also a competitive time, done during the day to be able to get everyone that wants to compete scheduled. There is no music; there are no announcers. The only sounds you hear are the recording secretary announcing who’s up next, and possibly the pounding of the ground and other raw sounds, if you’re sitting up close enough to the action.

“It’s a whole different game,” Dennis said, and he encouraged me to attend that portion of the Stampede.

“Rodeo is a tough sport,” he reflected, “the ropers last a bit longer….but those that we call the ‘rough’ stock riders…they last anywhere from two to ten seasons.”

He stressed that the Stampede Board is made up of volunteers, there is no salary linked to these positions. All of the money goes right back into the community. If the rodeo weren’t present, he said, there would be a huge dent in the fundraising. Other organizations benefit as well. Nampa merchants. Car dealerships (several of which are conveniently located adjacent to the Idaho Center). Hotels. Restaurants.

Dennis stated that the Stampede, for him, has been a lifetime commitment.

“I do it for the pure pleasure of being able to give back.”

That legacy is being passed on, as he has one son from Oregon coming in to help each year, and another that makes sure to attend, as well. Dennis is, as he has no qualms about saying, very proud of the rodeo.

“We are the reason there’s an Idaho Center.”

Visit the Snake River Stampede’s website and mark your calendar. The Stampede is coming to town. And great news….this is your year to go.

http://www.snakeriverstampede.com/

Copyright © Amy Larson 2010. All Rights Reserved.

Kissin' in the Country

Sitting outside of the KIZN 92 Station, I didn't know what to expect.

Kevin and Brenda Mee, DJ's at the station, invited me to spend thirty minutes with them at their place of employment, after I asked them for an interview about country music.

I wanted the immersion of the Western cultural experience to be complete, beginning with a trip to D and B (exploring Western 'artifacts', products, and attire), a visit to the F Bar and Pierce Park Arenas (barrel racing and the Ride For Joy program) and interviews with people that have been around horses and the rodeo all of their lives (Dennis Parry, Jimmie Hurley, Katie Leonard, and others). There were only two facets left. The food (which I'll get to, I assure you) and the music. Kizn 92 was going to fill that niche for me this morning.

I was not sure what they meant when they said they wanted me to 'hang out' with them in the station for about thirty minutes. I'm a decent interviewer, but my talent does not lie in public speaking. I'm a writer, not a talker. This is what I told my husband in the morning, as I was stressing out. I kept telling myself that I did not have to say anything clever; I just had to ask questions. That I could do.

I got to the station early and did some deep breathing exercises in my car. I am an extroverted writer, trapped inside of a rather introverted person....so.... I pictured the early morning walk I'd taken a few days ago on Pit Lane, where all of the peaceful country places were. I could feel the muscles behind my eyes releasing and I was getting pretty mellow. Suddenly my cell phone rang. I already knew who it was; my husband, calling to encourage me. After a few moments of talking, he said:

"....Just don't say anything that stereotypes country people at all. People HATE that." And then he went on to elaborate. I began to worry...what if I 'stereotyped' and didn't even know it? Between that and the fact that I hated to be censored....my head began to swim again.

Up went my heart rate. Pit Lane was long gone.

"You're NOT helping," I told him, and we quickly hung up. He called back five minutes later to offer a little prayer of peace for me, and that actually was pretty effective. Great do-over.


It was time to bite the bullet and go into the office building that housed more than just KIZN 92. There were several stations that called it home, judging from the windowfront logos. I climbed the steps and approached the reception desk. And at that very moment, I could not for the life of me remember the name of the radio station; although I've listened to it for years and years.

"Could you tell me where the....frog....station.....is?" I croaked out.

The receptionist laughed to herself.

"The 'frog' station?"

"Yeah," I stammered, "I'm supposed to meet with Kevin and Brenda Mee this morning." I squeaked out again, hating the fact that my voice sometimes goes away when I'm nervous.

"She'll come out here to get you." I was told.

I found a seat in the waiting area and opened my notebook to the notes I'd taken of my walk at Pit Lane, trying to regain the vibes of that morning last week. Deep breaths. I took out my camera and reviewed the Pit Lane pictures. Horse mailboxes. Sweet peas growing themselves to oblivion. The farm fresh eggs sign. It was working. Pit Lane is definitely my happy place.

Important, radio-personality looking people were walking back and forth past the reception area. They were all very friendly to me; not one of them went by without at least a nod. It occurred to me that in the media world, you never really know who is who all the time. It's somewhat anonymous, at least in the writing arena, and even as a talk-show persona, many people would not know your face. I made a mental note that this was a good way to be, media or no media. You just never know who you're dealing with, so respect should be the word of the day.

I was no sooner back in my 'happy place' mentally, when Brenda came around the corner. Everything about her was relaxed and open; again back to what I call the 'country' look. I have the theory that wide open spaces and horses do this to a person. They all have the same look. 'Contented', maybe? I'm not sure that there are words to completely describe it...but I'll tell you this; I sure wish I had it.

She turned around and mentioned that the receptionist had told her there was a lady up front looking for the 'frog' station. Oh, great.

As I followed her down the hall to where she and her husband did their morning show, I was immediately relaxed. This was just another visit with country people...and I'd never had a bad experience yet. If that was stereotyping; so be it.

I hardly had to ask questions. Brenda and then Kevin took turns telling snippets of their country living experiences. It's unfair to ask someone to do this; it is difficult to condense a lifetime of doing what you love into thirty minutes. But they did a fine job of it, even with the time restriction. And truth be told; we went a little over.

The first story I heard was of Buddy, a 23-year-old horse of theirs. It seems he took part in a rodeo where Kevin was riding him and throwing KISSIN' 92 t-shirts to the crowd. People were applauding and Buddy was loving it. Kevin and Brenda said that he was 'different' afterward, that Buddy seemed to view himself as the 'rodeo stud'. It had inflated his ego quite a bit, they claimed...all of that adoration and attention. Perhaps horses are more like people than we'd like to think.

They balked at the idea of rodeo livestock ever being treated poorly. As they put it, "You can't force a 1600 lb. animal to do what it doesn't want to do." An excellent point. They stressed that country and rodeo people have a certain 'ethic' when it comes to their animals. Over and over again, the people I've dealt with have all said the same thing. In essence, it's this: If there were such a thing as reincarnation, you should pray that you come back as a rodeo livestock animal. You'd be treated like royalty. Massages, primo grooming and sometimes your own private quarters and the best food, treatment, and pasture you could imagine.

The Mee's said that horses are a lot like dogs; you can even call them by name and they'll respond. Like dogs, they may have one special person that's the 'boss' in their mind...so even if there is someone else on their back, when the 'boss' shows up, that will be the one they're tuning in on.

Brenda says her early country education stemmed from being an 'Air Force Brat'. She was in Italy with her family and had nothing but Italian TV to watch...but the radio had those old-fashioned serials... what she called the 'theater of the mind'. That was her early introduction to the talk-radio world. Evenings there was bingo that she attended, and there would be bands there that played country music. She was introduced to the music of Loretta Lynn, Charlie Pride, and Tom T. Hall. As she got older, she got away from country music for a while. But then, there was a point in her life where the rock music just wasn't impressing her anymore.

With what one might call a faraway look, she said that she still remembers the song that brought her back to country music. It was Tim McGraw's "Don't Take The Girl". It stirred something in her that the other types of music hadn't....the substance and the emotion of the words and the music....and she's been country ever since.

I thought to myself what a turn this must have been. Here was Brenda, in ball cap and ponytail, owner of a small ranch with horses and kids and part of a country-western station DJ duo, loving this life. It's what she does, and it's what she is. I think it's safe to say that the moment she heard that heartfelt Tim McGraw song was a pivotal one.

Kevin grew up around music of all kinds. Gospel, church, Big Band....you name it. He came from a very musical family. He said his first record was Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire". He recounted a time when his Sunday School teacher asked him if he knew any songs. He did. He knew "Dark Town Strutter's Ball", and began to sing it for the teacher and the class. This did not go over well, and he was promptly escorted out of the classroom as the teacher took him to join his parents. He was grinning broadly as he told that last part.

Kevin has had extensive experience in the music business, an accomplished musician himself, he's rubbed shoulders with some of Nashville's finest. Various circumstances (and and injury or two) have led him to this place and time. I asked him if he thought they all happened for a reason, so that he could be living the sort of life he's living now. He answered me a bit later on that question.

Going back through a little history, he talked about working at a Denver radio station. Rock music. He didn't like it. Then he and Brenda went to Cheyenne, where they would be able to work together. Then he said they had a stint in South Dakota. When they got the position at Kissin' 92 in 1998, they were told to never expect to be anything more than the fifth or sixth placed radio station in the area. They assumed they'd only stay just over a year.

I smiled to myself as I thought of the enormous Kissin' 92 inflatable frog I'd seen at the Northwest Motorfest this weekend, that had been placed alongside the enormous Kissin' 92 semitrailer. Twelve years after the arrival of the Mee's... this was no fifth or sixth place local radio station anymore. They were big.

They've managed to draw all walks of life into their Kissin' community. They do a Krispy Kreme donut giveaway each morning, and laughed about how the attorneys in an office building on the eighth floor get excited, hoping they'll be the lucky winners. Once they had winners in the Idaho Supreme Court Justice's office, and since they personally deliver the goods, they had to go through all sorts of security just to be able to do so. Even in the act of good-natured competition over a few dozen donuts, the locals are bonding over this. That morning, the lucky winner of four dozen Krispy Kreme donuts...was myself, and the folks at the Idaho Press Tribune. They got three dozen; I kept a dozen. How many I ate out of that dozen is classified information.

We had to interrupt our discussion every so often for that funny little thing called a job. When the two were on the air, they took turns speaking in a seamless manner. I suppose that's what working with your spouse for a few years will do. At one point, they mentioned that I was interviewing them in the studio and I froze. "Please don't make me talk," I thought. And then Kevin mercifully said, "She's a writer, not a talker" (MY words, exactly!) and Brenda shot back, "That's because you're doing all the talking!"

Their style was friendly, at times humorous, and inviting...going right along with my 'stereotype' of country people. Hey, I can't help it if it's fact.

Kevin stated, in thinking about his life at this point, that they've got their acreage, and two of their children get to work with them. I was under the impression that he thought life was pretty good, and that whatever it had taken to get them there had, in retrospect, not been 'bad' events after all. I read no regrets in his expression.

He wanted to talk about some of the children that he'd helped get onto a horse. One of them had been a young autistic girl, a friend's child. When they'd first brought her around the paint horse that she'd be riding, the girl's hands turned white as she clung to the gate and began to have what Kevin said looked to be a tantrum of sorts. However, when the girl's mother said, "Use your words," the child with autism looked at her mother and said, "May I ride the horse please, Mommy?"

That had been the first sentence ever strung together by this child. They all felt that they had witnessed a miracle that day. Horses heal.

The Mees got very animated as they talked about their friend, Brad Ford, that owns the 4-D Longhorn Guest Ranch. (BeACowboy.com), and how he teaches people to ride. It is a working ranch, and the guests are required not only to ride, but to do such things as brand calves, which Brenda apparently wasn't too keen on. Kevin teased her about apologizing to the calf before she had to do the dirty work of branding....only to find out that she'd branded it on the wrong side, and it had to be re-done. I immediately sensed from the story that our friend Brenda has a tender heart.

They said that Brad Ford mentioned that his chief clients are from Germany, and sometimes Italy. I wondered about this...why would that be? Brenda surmised that in Europe, so many people love the American ideal of the freedom to be a 'rebel' and the idea of the wide open spaces and the countryside. Things are somewhat structured and organized where they come from; these tourists are those that are yearning to cut loose in the wide open spaces for a while. One twelve-year-old German girl they'd met was perplexed with some of the western lingo they'd been trying to teach her. Especially the phrase, "Git 'er done". She wondered just who this woman was that needed to get so many things done...?

They also told laughingly of an Australian fellow who was struggling to ride, and finally got going on a horse, exclaiming in his thick accent, "The blokes at home would never believe this!"

Germans and Italians aren't the only ones that love Idaho. The country western stars love our state, too. When Ty Murray and Jewel come to Idaho, they go camping. A lot of celebs hit the greenbelt on mountain bikes. Kenny Chesney floated the Boise River while he was here. JoDee Messina and her trainer also hit the greenbelt, the scenic paved pathway that goes along the Boise River for miles and miles, looping through parks, neighborhoods and desert.

Brenda told me that years ago when Patti Loveless was in town, she was treated to a bona fide Idaho ice cream Potato. I made a confused look, and gave myself away. I had no idea such a thing existed. I got an enthusiastic description...ice cream rolled in cocoa and topped with whipped cream, made to look like a baked potato. "Quite delicious", Brenda stated. Apparently Chef Lou at the Westside Drive in on State Street in Boise can get me fixed up with one. Kevin and Brenda seemed rather shocked that I would not know of such things. I felt duly chastised and will remedy that as soon as humanly possible. I, like Patti, will be hiding mine in the freezer to make sure that I get to enjoy it all to myself. The Mees suggested that I bring a friend to devour it with, it being of a large proportion. I smiled politely at them as if to imply that I would...but I won't.

George Strait, they told me, also often visits Idaho. He has considered buying property here. His son, Bubba, is a roper and has actually competed at the Snake River Stampede before. His dad just grabs an RV and blends right into the crowd, making sure to be there to watch his son as he ropes. The weather is another factor for being in our great state... George loves Texas, but there is relief from the Texas heat, here in Idaho.


I realized right about then that so much of our interview had been spent talking about the Idaho country life...because it's completely intertwined with the music. Without understanding the country, you may not understand the...'art'. Our conversation had been a very thorough lead-in to the icing on the cake; the music.

"What do you love about it?" I asked them. Their answers came pouring out:

"The rich harmonies."

"The instrumentals."

"The notion that what the artists sing about is so 'real," were just a few of their replies.


The music speaks for itself. Values. Family. The one you love. Wide open spaces. The pickup truck. The horse and rider. The rodeo. Friday nights. Meeting in the Middle. Losing her. Getting her back. Finding a new 'her' or 'him'. Deep, deep patriotism. Weekends.

It's the soundtrack to the lifestyle that Kevin and Brenda Mee and so many Americans hold dear. It is, in essence, what we fight for and what we are putting forth no small effort to preserve. The country way is a good way to be.

Switch on Kissin' 92 and you'll see what I mean. You just might get swept up in the words, emotion, and the catchy tunes. And, you just might win some donuts.





Thank You, Kissin' 92, for a very memorable visit.



Copyright (c) Amy Larson 2010. All Rights Reserved.

Snake Tale: From Sally Rummler

"After a few years of not rodeo-ing at all, we finally broke down and went to our first Stampede in 2008. WE LOVED IT! Then, we went back last year and loved it. We especially like the mutton busting. What fun, with those wonderful border collies so independently taking care of the sheep.... Love it. And the half-time shows are great. It's just a real pleasure to sit and watch this very professionally produced rodeo in the comfort of indoors and cushy seats. I think we're fans for life. Everyone should experience this good, good rodeo at LEAST once!"

Snake Tale: By Kathleen Mautz

"I can remember as a kid going to the Stampede with my family when it was outside. We always sat in the 'horseshoe' , as it was called, down by the roping chutes. I told myself and family that one day I would ride in that arena. I never got to ride at the old outdoor arena, but many years later I was able to run at the Miss Idaho Rodeo Contest! It was a dream come true! And now that I am a Snake River Stampede "Stampeder"---it is another dream come true! My four-year-old daughter loves to go to the practices and pretend that she is a Stampeder. My husband and son also come with me, so this is a family thing. We all have a good time. When we're done practicing, the kids get to help cool off the horses. We love the sport of RODEO. So much that even when we are not doing something with the Stampede, we are either barrel racing or schooling our horses. We LOVE our Western way of life, and are trying to keep it a part of our world."

You Never Get Over the Thrill of the Rodeo

I wanted to meet Katie Leonard.

She had sent me several excerpts of her Snake River Stampede memories when I had put the word out that I was collecting people's memoirs. I could practically feel her excitement through the computer screen, for both the Stampede, and her adoration of the country western lifestyle. From her notes, this was what I understood so far:

She was born and raised in Nampa, Idaho. She feels that the Stampede is a huge part of her heritage. When she was a kid, the Stampede was the highlight of her summer... and if she wasn't able to attend the rodeo, she sat up on her carport and was able to hear the whole thing, from the booming loudspeakers and the voice of the announcers. There was always a lot of anticipation surrounding which 'star' would be featured that year. She would go down to the grounds to watch the stock being unloaded, often standing in pure fascination at all of the bulls and horses, and how they all interacted with each other.

Even though she was born in Nampa, for a brief time her family moved to rural New Plymouth, where they had a dairy farm. Katie says that the 'farm life' is the only way to go. She had always loved horses and all 'critters', but her mother, who had been in an accident involving a horse, did not allow Katie to have one. So Katie made the best of it, and began to ride the dairy cows. Where there's a will, there's a way. She had one that she liked to ride in particular, named 'Buttercup'.

Eventually, her mother and father got 'worn down', as she put it. They sold the farm, moved to Nampa, and bought that girl a horse. This is, Katie says, where her journey began.

There was the excitement of the Parade each night, which Katie rode in many times until, as she says, she got her ribbon and was able to come back for the Saturday night parade. Her daughter seems to have taken after her, as later I was told a story of the then-three-year-old rider at her first parade. Her miniature pony was so small, the horseshoer had gotten down on his knees to shoe it. Worrying that this little girl might not get a ribbon, the horseshoer had given her a blue ribbon he'd had....Just in case. After the parade, Katie's daughter handed it back to him, saying that she didn't need it anymore...she'd just won a blue ribbon of her own!

Katie also remembered the singular feeling of entering the arena and seeing the people in the audience looking, as if to say, "Look at that horse, look at that rider...aren't they pretty!" and the feeling of awe in the air from the whole experience.

Today, Katie is a judge for the Parade; she's been doing that for years. Every year, she looks forward to judging the parade and attending the rodeo. She still owns the pair of spandex pants that she wore when she rode, and she still has the pictures. But her current wish is simple: she wishes that our young people could somehow go back to those times, to know what it was like back then. Wholesome. Exciting. Being in the stands and singing the National Anthem, amongst your friends and neighbors...the feeling of unity that this created. The electricity of the joy and the expectancy of what they were about to witness at the Rodeo.

Katie seemed interested in the fact that there were non-country people out there that were reading about her culture, and were becoming rather fascinated by it. She is glad that folks are being told the story of the Western way of life, and that stereo-types are disintegrating. She hopes that the stereotypes will disappear altogether; we are really more alike, after all, than we are different. She wrote: "What we so take for granted, others are so curious about. Maybe all of the writing about it will not only instill a love for this culture, but will encourage others to embrace what they have been given."

Katie wrote: "I have been blessed to be a part of history, where your word meant something, and a handshake was better than a document."

She continued, "These were treasured times, treasured memories....but even today, I can still feel that anticipation that I felt when I was younger...The Stampede is coming....The Stampede is coming..."

The Snake River Stampede Song

"The Snake River Stampede, the Snake River Stampede

Ride 'em high/ let 'er fly

The Snake River Stampede.



Cowboys a'comin' and guitars a'strummin' and under the Idaho moon

Grandpa and Mother, Sister and Brother / Everybody's singin' the tune!

Billie's a'ropin'/ we're all a'hopin' he can win a buckle this year

He'll have to loop 'er faster 'n' Cooper 'cause all the other ropers are here!



At the Snake River Stampede, the Snake River Stampede

Ride 'em high/ let 'er fly at the Snake River Stampede.



Betty's amazin' when she is blazin' circles around the tin cans

Bring 'em on home now / We know you know how-

Look at all the barrels you ran!

Rodeo lovers and lots of others come to see the cowboys ride

We've got the best show in all the West so come and hear 'em holler 'OUTSIDE!'



Snake River Stampede, Snake River Stampede

Ride 'em high/ let 'er fly

Snake River Stampede."


http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/SnakeRiverStampede?ref=ts

The Stampede and Country Living

A Letter About the Snake River Stampede and Country Living
Written by Sallie Roberts



I grew up in a small Eastern Oregon town. Cattle drives would go right past my house on the canyon and I would have to follow them to town if we were late to church (making us much later). The smell of kicked- up dirt and dung, the sounds of bawling caves that were temporarily separated from their mothers, the sight of hundreds of brown, black, white, tan, red stock lumbering down the trail all resonate in my mind. But the most captivating sight was the Cowboy who weaved his way in and out of the herd, keeping them moving and on track.

My mother would tell us stories of what cowboys had to do. The skills that made them good at their job. The toughness they posessed and the stubborn streak that ran deep in their blood.

I knew from an early age that the Cowboy was a special person.

One year my mother announced we were going to the Snake River Stampede. This didn't mean a thing to me, as I had not heard of it before. We loaded up with Grandma and Grandpa and headed to Nampa Idaho. The year was probably close to 1967-1970.

That was the first rodeo that I had ever seen. I remember the rows and rows of wooden seats that made a big oval around the arena. The heat of the day (as we went to a day performance), was very hot. A dry dusty heat that pounded up in clouds as the animals stirred about. And that smell… I remembered it from the cattle drives… hung in the air.

Then the action began. I don't remember much of the events, but I do know that I loved the clowns, the music, and the bucking broncos. I do remember the bull riding, but it scared me, the bulls looked so fierce!

That is when I really understood the words of my mother about the toughness of a Cowboy. I saw the strength of man verses beast. I had no doubt that the men I watched handle the broncos and bulls and steer, were made from a different mold.

One of my greatest surprises was when the barrel racing took place. I never had imagined that the girls could be so beautiful, so daring and the horses so responsive. My first exposure to the Snake River Stampede was worth every second of the long ride and the scorching heat.

Years have passed and my favorite summertime memories are piled deep with Snake River Stampede in them.

One memory (I can't remember the year) it was close to one of the last years that the rodeo was held outside, was the musical talent spotlighted. It was Reba McIntire. I didn't get to see her because our seats weren't that good and I was short and behind the crowd, but I could hear her! I had never heard of her before and didn't realize what a precious moment I was living through. She was a thrill to listen to live and I knew I was listening to someone with a great talent. Now years later I wish I had realized how lucky I was to get to hear her.

As the years passed, I moved out of state and started a family. When we returned and made our home in Nampa, Idaho, one of the first things I did was introduce my children to the traditions of the Snake River Stampede. Like my mother, I had been telling them stories about the Cowboy all their lives.

By this time the Stampede had been moved to the Idaho Center. I loved the change and I loved SLACK!! Each year we would sit through every hour of Slack just to soak in the atmosphere. We would go back and see the huge animals up close. We would talk with the Cowboys sitting in seats near us. We would make sure we had some of the Buckaroo breakfast. And we always would get up early to watch the barrel racing time trials.

Each year we would schedule our summer activities to include the library reading program so we could earn tickets to the rodeo. Then we would prepare a day's worth of meals and pack it up to watch slack. Then we would get our tickets and spend the evening and night enjoying the rodeo.

One year in particular will always be my favorite memory. I found out that my parents were coming to town on the same day we were planning on attending the rodeo. I went in to swap out our tickets to get some all together with my parents. It just so happened that we were able to get front row seats to the west of the roping chutes. My parents were tickled to go with us and my father really liked the seats. But the best was yet to come.

They shut off the lights and the Snake River Stampeders started their routine. My father was a little concerned when the lights went off, but his comments of awe and delight soon became whoops and cheers as the lighted horses breezed by us close enough to reach out and touch. That set the stage of the dearest memory I have had as an adult child with my parents.

Every year I try to go back. Every year the thrills are the same. The laughter and suspense never gets old as I sit by family members. Some years we are all praying for the welfare of a cowboy who had gotten himself into a bad spot with a bull. Some years it will only be for the Buckaroo breakfast and a morning of slack. Other years it is volunteering as 4-H servers. But one thing I know for sure, that my summer is always better when I can take my family and make the Snake River Stampede one of its highlights.

I will always be a proud Idahoan because of the tradition and heritage that comes with the good men and woman that have made the Snake River Stampede what it is today. God Bless you all and see you at SLACK 2010.