PILESGROVE, NJ – Low clouds covering the horizon at dusk were beginning to tint cotton candy pink as rodeo announcer, Ty Miller, instructed all the men to “take off their covers”.
He had just finished reading a prayer. The national anthem – “the best song ever written” – is next, he said.
“My God,” John McKenney, 52, told friends who were seated clutching their thighs in the no-frills wooden stands of the Cowtown Rodeo. “I don’t think we’re in New Jersey anymore.”
But like Dorothy, he never left.
Located along the rural western slopes of a state known for its suburban stretch, mob lore, and highway tangle, Cowtown has hosted rodeo competitions in Salem County, NJ, nearly every year. weeks since 1955, rain or shine. The only exception is six Saturdays at the start of the pandemic.
According to the Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association, no other rodeo in the United States operates a longer weekly program.
Cowtown’s ticket sales last summer were 50% higher than before, its owners said. On a recent Saturday, the rodeo’s 4,000-seat outdoor stadium hosted the first ever event for Professional horse racers – equivalent of the NBA’s rodeo
The family of farmers that run Cowtown said it continues to turn down offers to sell packages of its sprawling property to companies hoping to build warehouses on it. Confident in the future, the family passed the reins on to a fifth generation: Katy Harris Griscom, Cowtown’s first female boss.
Grant Harris, a former rancher and bull rider who ran Cowtown for decades with his wife, Betsy, before selling it to their youngest daughter and her husband, RJ Griscom. The elderly couple still run a flea market, also known as Cowtown, and a 1,700-acre ranch where they raise beef cattle and grow food for the animals.
“My family made a living – at least – doing what we did for 13, 14 generations,” Mr. Harris said of farming.
“Why would you want to mess with that?”
And so every Friday, from Memorial Day weekend through September, six riders on horseback begin rounding the horses and bulls and leading them toward the stables 36 hours before showtime.
The animals dashed through a tunnel that ran under 40th Street, a busy road that cuts east to west through southern New Jersey, before they were grouped behind a 22-foot, fiberglass Man with low voice Cowboys stood guard nearby.
Animals are bred to herd. That’s what draws crowds and the occasional group of animal rights activists. Emphasizing the inherent dangers of this sport, a 19 years old in sophomore year of university from Pennsylvania was killed at Cowtown in 2016 after being thrown from his horse during a naked horse riding competition.
Betsy Harris said: “It was horrible.
Ethan Johnson, 27, a bullfighter whose job requires using his body to distract the bull after it chased a rider to the ground, likened the experience of the crowd at the race horse like the experience of fans watching a NASCAR race.
“They want everyone to be okay,” said Mr. Johnson, who lives in New Mexico but travels the country for work. “But they also want to see a good wreck.”
Entrants compete in eight events that recall the rodeo’s roots as a competitive showcase for the skills needed to work on farms and ranches across the United States.
There is timed directing wrestling, calf riding and saddle riding. Women are allowed to compete in any event, but a second women-only competition, breakaway roping, was added to the professional rodeo circuit last year.
Events known as rough cheers, which beat the rider’s muscles and skill against the strength of a horse or bull when it kicks its hind legs, are fan favorites. (To encourage head shaking, a sheepskin strap was wrapped around the animal’s flank, near its genitals; the sensation caused the animal to try to kick it away.)
Bull riders and naked horse riders must stand still for at least eight seconds to qualify for a win and be graded on the quality of their rides. If no rider stays upright in the minimum amount of time, the contest cash prize will carry over to the next week.
On a recent Saturday night, the winner of the bull-riding competition was the only person to hold the top spot for at least eight seconds for three weeks, and he walked away with a prize of about $4,000.
Tim Kent, 36 years old The region’s top bareback racer who has been competing since the age of 14, says the main attraction to him is the long-standing origins of horseback riding and the close friendships between contestants.
Mr Kent, who was among the few contestants, said he had “competed” more or less full-time. “How long have humans been working with animals? You are reverting to something very primitive. “
Mr Kent, a father of two from Pennsylvania, said: “Part of that is tough and brave. “It challenges your spirit.”
The sport is not without its powerful detractors. A New York City congresswoman, Linda B. Rosenthal, proposed legislation two years ago that would ban certain events and tools at rodeos, which she calls ““sports blood masquerading as entertainment. “
“These are basically domesticated animals,” he said, “and they want to pretend they are wild.”
However, the sport seems to have a growing fan base.
According to Steve Knowles, rodeo managing director for the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, this year, 780 professional races are expected across the country, up from 635 last year and 720 in 2019.
Richard W. Slatta, a retired history professor at North Carolina State University who has written six books about the American cowboy, said he believes the rodeo’s current boom is related to volatility. economic and social implications of the pandemic.
“The cowboy is an iconic figure that people see as representing a golden age,” he said.
“When you have social and economic stress, that’s when I see someone lamenting the loss of traditional values,” he said, adding, “It’s a feeling that The good old days are over and they are trying to get it back. “
Indeed, patriotism was on full display on a recent Saturday night, in the script of the announcers and in the US flags waving from trucks parked in storefronts. . But politics is not; The cowboy hats are de rigueur but there are few clearly partisan slogans on the clothes in the crowd just standing in the room.
Many attendees said Cowtown has become a summer tradition with family and friends. Others cite its novelty as the main attraction.
Sydney Hughes, 24, arrived about two hours early to work with colleagues from an architecture firm in Philadelphia. Ms Hughes said she had a similar reaction every time she explained her weekend plans to friends.
“When I told them it was in New Jersey – they said, ‘What?’ she said.
Mannie Brown was there to celebrate her 65th birthday and her first car race, with a crowd of relatives.
“I watch a lot of cowboy movies,” said Mr. Brown, who lives in Brooklyn but now lives in Delaware. “I just want to see it live.”
Mr. Knowles said the relative affordability of a night at the rodeo and its outdoor seating has made it a particularly appealing entertainment option in times of pandemic. At Cowtown, tickets are $25 for adults, and spectators are allowed to bring along a small refrigerator stocked with food and glassless beverages of their choice.
Salem County, where Cowtown is located, is one of New Jersey’s most rural areas, with large farms juxtaposed to form uninterrupted swaths of open space.
However, its proximity to Interstates 95 and 295 — and less than 20 miles from Pennsylvania and Delaware — has made the area a prime target for companies hoping to build warehouses, according to officials. of the New Jersey Farm Bureau.
The offers were “extraordinary” – in fact, so large, that interest income would likely reduce the family’s annual profits, Mr. Harris said.
“How much is enough?” he say. “That’s the question.”
For now, the family says it has no plans to sell.
“I wouldn’t do anything else,” Harris Griscom said as her 3-year-old daughter, Olivia, played nearby.
Her son Nate, 10, rode a small bull named Norman. And he never misses a show.
