Like at most rodeos, there are a lot of blue jeans and cowboy hats at the National Western Complex in Denver. Country music is playing and contestants are competing in roping and barrel racing, fighting for first-place buckles and prize money.
But at this rodeo there are also drag queens. Welcome to the Rocky Mountain Regional Rodeo, the longest-running gay rodeo in the U.S.
Alizae Roze Jackwell — that’s her drag name — is preparing to hop on a steer. She’s sporting a pink Barbie dress with a blonde curly wig. Her two teammates in the "Wild Drag" event will grab hold of the cow and bring it across two lines marked in the dirt. That's when she'll get on and ride it across a third line.
"It's rough, it's rowdy, you're going to get dirty, but it's so worth it," Jackwell said.
Wild Drag is one of the "camp" events, special to the International Gay Rodeo Association (IGRA) circuit. Another is a race to put underwear on a goat. They're silly and light-hearted, but contestants are required to compete in a camp event, in addition to the typical rough stock, roping and speed events, to be in the running for All-Around Cowboy or All-Around Cowgirl, the highest honors at the rodeo.
The first gay rodeo was held in Reno, Nevada in 1976. LGBTQ+ people could participate without fear of homophobia, said Nick Villanueva, a University of Colorado Boulder sports studies professor who wrote a forthcoming book about gay rodeo.
"That's part of the gay liberation movement of the 1970s," he said, "which was, well, if you don't want us, we'll create our own."
Colorado has held a gay rodeo every year since 1983, making this year its 41st. Other rodeos have sprung up in places like Albuquerque, Los Angeles and Oklahoma City.
Candy Pratt grew up riding horses. She attended her first gay rodeo in Texas in 1988 after seeing a poster in a bar.
"I hadn't quite come out to my family yet, but it was a place you could go and be openly gay. It was just a place of safety at the time," she said.
Plus, in the gay rodeo, women could participate in the rough stock events like bronc and bull riding, usually reserved for men.
Pratt remembers hundreds of contestants and thousands of fans in rodeos that would run until midnight.
"There was so many people in the stands, when you'd turn the first barrel, they'd scream, and it'd scare your horse across the arena," she said.
Pratt was a judge at the rodeo this year, but she's been a fierce competitor, holding the record for the most first-place buckles and All-Around Cowgirl titles. She served as the IGRA president and is in the organization's hall of fame.
As the AIDS epidemic spread in the 80s, the rodeo associations faced more bigotry. In Pratt's first year on the circuit, the rodeo finals near Reno were canceled by a district attorney. Organizers, including in Colorado, had trouble booking arenas and convincing contractors to work at the rodeo.
"We'd say, 'This is for a gay rodeo,' and they'd say, 'Oh, no, not coming,'" Pratt said.
But they pulled together by raising money to address the AIDS crisis. Many found lifelong friends and belonging.
That's true for Villanueva, the CU Boulder professor, who competes himself. He said it's helped him return to what he appreciated about his rural upbringing while challenging the aspects of hyper-masculinity. He remembers roping a steer for the first time.
"My husband was there, and he just gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. And it was just something that you don't have to worry about what people in the stands are going to say, or when you walk into the parking lot of the arena at night," he said.
Villanueva said attendance at rodeos declined during the COVID-19 pandemic, and he worries about whether the younger generation will get involved.
Kade Hiller is riding his leopard Appaloosa Pongo around the practice arena, preparing for his first rodeo on horseback.
"I'm excited. I'm a little bit nervous," he said before his race, which involves weaving through a course of spaced-out poles.
Hiller, who’s 27, grew up in Haxtun, near the Nebraska border. Today, there are more accepting spaces for queer people, he said, but gay rodeo still feels important, especially with rising anti-LGBTQ+ hate.
"No matter what happens," he said, "we're going to find a space to bring the horses together and bring the contestants together, and we're going to have a rodeo no matter what."
After hearing about the gay rodeo a few years ago at a Pride parade, he's now on the board of the Colorado Gay Rodeo Association and said he wants to be a part of the sport's future. That starts with celebrating the 50th gay rodeo, back in Reno, next year.
This story was produced by the Mountain West News Bureau, a collaboration between Wyoming Public Media, Nevada Public Radio, Boise State Public Radio in Idaho, KUNR in Nevada, KUNC in Colorado and KANW in New Mexico, with support from affiliate stations across the region. Funding for the Mountain West News Bureau is provided in part by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.
The photography in this story is funded by the Reflecting Colorado Photo Desk grant. KUNC, with support from the Colorado Media Project, aims to diversify visual storytelling by showcasing the rich cultural tapestry of the Centennial State. The Photo Desk project is a step towards embracing digital innovation and fostering inclusivity in storytelling.
