wilder than any eight second ride

Two years ago, when Jodi took me to the St. Paul Rodeo for the first time, she couldn't believe I'd never been to a rodeo. For crying out loud, I remember watching boys in boots & bluejeans throwing lassos around oil drums outside auto shop back in high school. And I know at least two guys who kept step ladders in their trucks for shorter passengers to haul themselves into the jacked up cab. What's the deal here?

It may have been Napa, but it wasn't exactly hoity-toity city livin'. 

((sorry to burst the misconceptions there... most of us who are from Napa know that the town wasn't much to speak of when we were growing up there))

Now bounce ahead a couple years and a few more rodeos later and waking up the morning of July 3rd was like waking up on Christmas. 

It's RODEO SEASON! was all I could think about all day.

What. Has. Happened. To. Me.

Oh... Ice cold beer, fresh corndogs, good whiskey and gettin' to know some country boys - that's what.

I mostly blame some Oregon girls and Montana boys.

And by blame, I mean forever grateful because this was a damn good time.

The ladies - too bad you can't see our cutoffs and boots, right?

And a Shamoo! This was his first rodeo... Don't think it will be his last.

...Sittin' in a tree...

Then there was that time Shamoo's dad photobombed an already ridiculous picture making it approximately 80,000 times better.

The Shamo clan! More fun with Janet, Bill, Eric and Shamoo to come if and when I ever get that waterproof camera developed...

Seriously, I know it's sacrilege in the microbrew capital of the world, but there is just something deeply satisfying about ice-cold Coors Light on a hot summer night...

And yeah... We got a little silly by the end of the night. Thank goodness we had Caitlyn ((above)) and Kirsti ((bless that girl, she's such a saint... You'll see pictures of her in the 4th of July post!)) to be voices of reason when everyone else was busy offending reason.

Me? I was actually stone-cold sober by the end of the night and was too busy taking pictures to get too ridiculous. But Scott decided to fix that by throwing me over his shoulder. Of course he was feeling pretty groovy and we both went down in the gravel. 

I mean come on, buddy... You know I don't need help falling down. 

I manage just fine on my own.

All in all though, it was a pretty wonderful night.

Yeehaw and all that rot.

Here's to the start of another good year of rodeo.