The dust and mud... Rodeo part 1

This next installment will be a special multi-part shout-out to our good friend, Bueter (just for the record, when I say "our" or "we" I am referring to James and myself, not me and my other personalities). Bueter is pursuing a noble career in veterinary medicine down in Auburn, Alabama. I figure one day he will save my precious Chloe from certain demise, so I find it necessary to support him in any way possible, even if that means truckin' it about 500 miles down south for one long day of drinking, dancing, and rodeo-ing. Sacrifices, right? So, over the next two posts I will bring you "The Rodeo Experience". Cue up your Pandora to Garth Brooks - "Rodeo", and settle in.

Every year the professional veterinary fraternity that our friend is a part of holds a fundraising event. Seems pretty normal, right? My sorority always had a silent auction. Snore. This is a totally different kind of fundraiser. This event consists of a giant open field, an amateur rodeo, and a badass concert to end the night. You're still not getting it. Keep reading.

We were invited by Bueter the first year, and James wouldn't think twice before agreeing to drive 8 hours for one event. We didn't know what we were in for. To be honest, I don't think Bueter knew what he was in for. So off we went, in a rental car, headed south.

We left Friday night, after a long week of work. We drove through the night, which isn't uncommon for me. Every year when my family goes to Florida we drive through the night. I actually prefer it because the roads are pretty empty and getting through cities like Nashville don't suck nearly as bad. So we drove and drove, we drove to the point that we were almost to my grandparent's house in Florida and then turned. Seriously... One interstate, straight down.

After a while we got to Auburn. We pulled off the highway and followed the GPS to a lovely little trailer park. You see, in Auburn, most students prefer to live in trailers over the dorms. They pretty much cost the same, and you have a whole trailer to yourself. Ahh, luxurious.

Bueter greeted us with a smile and let us in and gave us the grand tour. It was about 4 in the morning. After settling in we went to sleep, to prepare ourselves for the next day. Bueter had to wake up early to help set up for the event. We knew we really wouldn't see much of him that day, since he was working, but we were ready for fun. We woke up at 8 and started getting ready (keep a tally: that is -4 hours of sleep so far). By about 10 we were fed and packed and ready. We both wore our regular 'fits - jeans and a white-T, and added some camo hats, to redneck it up a bit, of course. Off we went to pick up some beers and head down to the Rodeo.

Got the uniform.

We stopped by the gas station on our way out of the trailer park and we should have recognized the signs right away: they had sold out of ice and beer. Dang. Luckily there was a big Walmart nearby. It was full of college aged kids in camo and jorts, dragging coolers and cases of beer. Oh my... what... what are we getting into? We found our way to the beer aisle and that's when we knew: We were in for some kind of shit show. It seemed the entire city was sold out of alcohol.

We settled on whatever they had left - some cheap light beer - and loaded up to head back out. Soon enough we were in a line... a long line. The line was full of jacked-up pick-ups blaring music with truck beds hauling as many people as could fit. There were flags flying from most of the trucks, smoke stacks, and fart-can mufflers adding to the chaos. Obviously, we were headed in the right direction.

Our anticipation built as we slowly inched our way toward the gates. The ride in was just as much of an indicator as Walmart was. People stumbled their way toward the gate by foot when they had tired of waiting. They crawled in and out of the brush on the side of the road to go to the bathroom. They climbed all over the trucks and screeched and sang. Whoa. This is getting serious. It was about noon by now.

We inched forward a bit more and finally we could see it... acres and acres of jorts, sunburns, bandanas, boots, aviator sunglasses, more boots, bikini tops, and hair. Beautiful girls wore nothing more than bikini tops, cowgirl boots and cut-off jeans. The men wore cut-offs as well, some as short as their female counterpart's. They wore bandanas around their head, cowboy hats and boots, overalls, and (if any shirt) a sleeveless T. It. was. glorious.

Making the journey from the car to the arena...

There we were, in the heartland. It was the thing of redneck dreams. We had finally arrived. We pulled in and followed the long line of trucks in our lame little rental hatchback around the fields to a back lot. we parked in an open spot, jumped out of the car, cracked a beer and stood, amazed...

This is 

From what we could already see, the four hours of sleep and eight hour drive was well worth it.