It's 9 degrees C (that's 48 F), raining, and the wind is blowing bout a hunnerd miles per hour (I'm tired of converting so maybe you can get that into kph). Fortunately, the C Train (a light rail system that is extremely practical and useful and takes people places that they need to go as opposed to that weird useless set up we have in Houston, also known as the death train) is only a few blocks from my hotel, so I don the Wranglers, pearl buttons, and boots, grab an umbrella that is red and white and sports maple leaves, and strike out for the train for the 10 minute ride to the Stampede grounds. Aside - In Houston, the suburbanite's nod to the rodeo is a pair of cowboy boots. They symbolize the western way of life at rodeo time and practically everyone at the rodeo will be wearing them. In Calgary, it's the hat. Practically everyone at the Stampede has a cowboy hat, white preferably as that's the Stampede icon (pic). Cowboy hats and sneakers, cowboy hats and Birkenstoks, cowboy hats and fine Italian loafers, cowboy hats and stilettos. Interesting. Second aside - Calgarians seem to really embrace the Stampede as a tribute to the rural/ranching heritage of the province (and a chance to be face down plastered for about 10 days running). Don't get me wrong. Because of the oil and gas boom, Calgary is filthy with new money trying to look like old money but that doesn't seem to cause them to be embarrassed about their agrarian roots and they truly celebrate them at Stampede time. In Houston, we're all going about trying to pretend that we're not just one generation removed from the farm/ranch. Seems that in our opinion, country equals crude and we treat the rodeo like a novelty item rather than a celebration of our culture. OK, so now I'm at the Stampede in abjectly miserable weather with a little time to spare before the rodeo events kick off. I take a look around to see most of the same attractions that you find at the Houston rodeo (few pics), just less of them. I know that I'm always making comparisons, but it's natural to view new things against the backdrop of the familiar and that, of course, yields comparisons. The Stampede bills itself as the world's largest outdoor rodeo. I think the term 'outdoor' may be a recent addition to the title. The Houston rodeo is massively larger in exhibits, attractions such as the midway, acreage (hectareage?), seating capacity, and entertainment venues and artists. I don't know about the purse. The Stampede could certainly be larger in that category. I like the smaller down-home feel of the Stampede. This is a little closer to the local rodeos I attended as a child and the whole thing is physically manageable. In Houston, I'm just overwhelmed and disoriented by the scale. And lost half the time. But the Houston rodeo is a spectacle not to be missed partly because of it's impressive immensity. One thing that the Stampede has that the Houston rodeo does not, is gambling (pic). Wsup with that? I make my way to the rodeo arena and find that my seat is under an overhang and I won't have to brave the rain for hours. Hallelujah! The rain makes for lots of no rides and lots of lousy times, but the cowboys and support staff and fans are all making the most of it and everyone at least looks to be having a good time. Except for the livestock. The broncs and the bulls don't want to leave the fence perimeter and brave the mud so, except for the roping and barrel racing, most of the rides are pretty tight against the gate/chute side of the arena, opposite my seat. One horse went down and got caught up in the fence and there were a few tense moments before he was extracated. He was fine. Sigh of relief. I include a few pics from the events but was fairly far from the action so rather poor quality. Interestingly, there was a cowboy from Australia and one from Brazil. After the rodeo events are done, I have several hours to kill before the 8:00pm evening show which includes the chuck wagon races, stage entertainment, and fireworks. I'm really looking forward to the chuck wagon races. We have them at the Houston rodeo, but they are the main attraction here, people follow the various teams, and I've been hearing street buzz about who will win. To pass the time and get out of the rain, I go to Nashville North under advisement of a Canadian friend who says a good time can be found there, along with beer. The line to get in is loooong. The couple ahead of me is decked out in Texas A&M rain ponchos (pic) and we strike up a conversation. They're from the Houston area, and while the wife is an Aggie, hubby is actually a Longhorn who chose to wear the A&M regalia just to stay warm and dry. Shame on him. What a wuss! Inside there are country bands playing and they are really good. Someone tells me that only two years ago Miranda Lambert was playing here. Now she's something of a superstar. No tables in here but long bars where you just sidle up and deposit your drink and chat up the folks around you (actually you have to scream over the din but everyone's doing it). I notice that most people are drinking Bud or Bud Light. I don't get this. There are many good Canadian beers and practically any beer is superior to Bud. Must be in the marketing (pic). I secure a Kokanee (BC brewed) and spy a tiny opening at one of the bars where I deposit my brew and insinuate myself in sideways next to it. Turns out I'm in the midst of four guys (one of them a Texan - boots but no cowboy hat) who work together and who have obviously been avoiding the rain and celebrating for a while. They take me under their collective wing, provide lots of Stampede tips and lore, include me in the next few rounds, and will not allow me to buy a round - Texas money is not good at the Calgary Stampede. They're my choice for unofficial Stampede ambassadors (pic included). All is well until the stage announcer shushes the crowd and notes that the evening show, including the chuck wagon races, has been cancelled because of the weather. First time in the history of the Stampede. The joint clears in a hurry, me included. On the way off the grounds I spot an amusing sign at a Mexican eatery near the exit gate. See rule six. I guess I'm not in BC anymore.
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