When God closes a door, he opens window. Our door was Colorado, but instead of popping the hinges off and taking it with us, we had to close that door. The window that became Cassville, Missouri was suddenly wide open and looking for three hawks to hang out on the sill for a day. Cassville is by no means a bustling town that movers and shakers are flocking to for careers. Instead, it’s a town of homegrown, hard workers that make sure the necessities for everyday life are available for all countrywide.
Towns like them are the backbones of America that move in silence. You don’t hear about them because they don’t want you to. The only thing your gender studies degree is good for down there is an extra wipe to make sure you got it all. In fact, I bet if they found out I was even writing about them, they would send the town bully to hang me up by my knickers on the flagpole.
Every year for the past 5 years (excluding Covid 2020), Cassville, Missouri holds the ‘Ridin’ with Mason Lowe’ memorial event to commemorate a rider who shined in the P.B.R. from early on. On just his second year, Mason Lowe was considered a rider that could easily be in contention with some of the veterans on the tour. From then on, his accolades grew. It was at a P.B.R. Velocity Tour event in Denver in 2019 that he faced a tragedy hopefully no other rider, or their family will ever experience. After being bucked, the hoof of the bull came down on his sternum and unfortunately was too much force for any single person to withstand. Since then and right near his hometown of Springfield, Missouri, Cassville holds this event to honor the person he was and his commitment to the sport. We were fortunate enough to attend.
The Cassville Carnival
There is nothing like being out of your element. The passenger seat of a Kia Optima in tall grass? Way out of my element. But that’s what we get for not driving a Ford F-150 in those parts. Nevertheless, we ended up finding parking we could get out of unless the monsoons of the Intertropical Convergence Zone came upon us. Being there early, we decided to make do of a few Coors Banquets while enjoying the setting sun over the hills. The cows quietly grazed, the leaves gently rustled, and the fellas happily sipped.
More cars began piling in to the grass lot, each more lifted than the next. The same familial demographic in New York that shows up to an MLB game had all found their way onto a seat in the grass for a rodeo that brought the entire town together. Like I said, out of my element. Eventually there were more cars than visible grass, and that meant only one thing – showtime.
The Bill Hailey Arena
A bull ride here. A bull roped there. While the air of the event certainly added an element of pride, it was the crowd that really makes the event special year after year. They’re passionate, respectful, and above all, some of the proudest Americans to put their hands over their hearts for the stars and stripes. Most, including myself, only witness the risks of these bull rides from the comfort of the bleachers. However, they sure as hell respect those who are out their putting on a show, and above all, following their own dreams. Guys like Mason Lowe embody that spirit.
Unfortunately, there was a lot of riders there that I wasn’t familiar with. It’s tough when you don’t have a day sheet (essentially a roster). Not because they didn’t give me one, but because I was too dumb to find them. A couple of riders hit their 8s, but most were bucked off. Júlio Félix and Jessie Tillman have the skills to see that qualifying 8s. Of course, Wyatt Rogers was the only other to see that 8s too.
I did discover my favorite event behind bull riding, though – freestyle bullfighting. These boys eat and leave noooo crumbs. The moxie it takes to just tap a bull seeing red on its horn and then run circles around it. I imagine it’s beyond awful when they do get caught lacking. But these guys wouldn’t be out there if they didn’t know the risks. Tell your girlfriend the dress she has on gives her a tummy. You will get a feel for their jobs pretty quickly.
Back Next Year
This event has been my favorite so far, hands down. The location, the events, the vibe, and most importantly, the reason. All proceeds go to the incredible St. Jude’s Hospital each year. I don’t think this event will ever see a decrease in attendance. With each year, I only hope more and more people can show up to this charity event. I didn’t get Wyatt Roger’s recently used glove. Be damn sure I’m showing up next year with a handful of Benjamin’s and I’m bringing home some hardware.
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