Ride 'Em, Pops!

As

fans are filing into the arena in Redmond, Ore., John Naldur, one of the visiting athletes, is warming up in the bullpen. Naldur, 58, isn't here to pitch, though. This bullpen has no pitcher's mound. It's a real cattle pen occupied by three real bulls--three real surly bulls. Sufficiently limber, Naldur ignores the snorting animals--and his age--as he hops on the back of a 1,300-lb. bronco that will try to launch him skyward while galloping at up to 40 m.p.h. It's a rough ride that ends with a kick to the head, a face full of blood and some tense moments as Naldur struggles back to his feet and to consciousness. Bronco 1, Naldur 0. "When I was 18, I could get up right away," he says woozily. "Other than that, I can still ride just like I always did."

Heck, why should youngsters be the only ones allowed the pleasure of getting kicked in the head by irritable livestock? That's the attitude of Naldur and his 850 rugged colleagues in the National Senior Professional Rodeo Association, a group of 40-and-up cowboys and cowgirls. The N.S.P.R.A.'s seven-month tour hits such cities as Buckeye, Ariz., and Twin Falls, Idaho, and culminates with a national championship in Reno, Nev., in early November. The tour pits cowfolk from three age brackets (40s, 50s and 60-plus) in events such as bronco or bull riding, steer wrestling, calf roping and ladies' barrel racing. The events and rules of Senior Pro rodeo are the same as rodeo's major league, the Professional Rodeo Circuit. The purses are not. On the senior tour, participants battle weekly for about $30,000 in total prize money, meaning many category winners earn a couple of hundred bucks each--a sum few people would break a sweat for, never mind a bone. That's O.K., says barrel racer Nancy Tatum, 56. "We're all going through our third childhood."

Or extending the original. "I feel just as good throwing a steer now as I did when I was 25, and believe me, the cattle are not any easier," says Dan Stringari, 54, a steer wrestler from Gallatin Gateway, Mont., who sports the unofficial rodeo uniform--denim shirt, Wranglers and boots. Some participants say the weekly activity keeps them fit. "It's either this or sit at home and die of old age, so I'm not quitting until I'm 6 ft. under," says barrel racer Linda Short, 52, from Dayton, Nev.

Discussing the limitations of age is passe to Short and her rodeo colleagues. "People tell me to quit all the time," says Mario Ciucci, 58, a bareback rider, "but I feel as good as I did at 35." Still, it's impossible to ignore the reality that a group of grandparents are dodging bull horns and bronco hooves--especially since the animals make no allowances for age. Injuries are guaranteed. In Redmond, a particularly ornery bull shatters a rider's leg in a serious accident that rodeo veterans refer to as a wreck. Most wrecks are not that severe, but they are nearly always serious. "You're gonna hurt sometimes," says Phil Rawlins, 71, a team roper who lost a finger during competition several years ago (it was surgically reattached). "But wrecks are part of the sport, and no one cares, because the only thing we have after senior rodeo is bingo."

You would think that someone like Naldur would be ready to sign up for his game cards, given the toll bronco busting is taking on his body. Last year the school psychologist from Layton, Utah, broke a rib and a leg, ruptured his spleen, separated his shoulder and suffered a concussion. Each time he taped himself up and got back on the horse a few days later. "Every autumn I have a retirement party," Naldur says. "Then in spring the snow melts, the flowers bloom, and I realize nothing's really changed except I'm one year older." His wife Mazie won't attend Naldur's events and looks forward to the day his retirement party will be authentic.

Given the cost, it's no wonder those who succeed attain hero status among their peers. The veterans love to spin dramatic yarns about an 83-year-old barrel racer who competed while legally blind, a one-armed calf roper, and a 66-year-old bronco rider who managed to beat a group of 20-year-olds. Pride motivates the tales, especially because the current crop of rodeo seniors considers itself the last generation to hone its skills by working on ranches rather than at specialized roping schools or college rodeos. "So many people get older and begin to shut down," says Kedo Olson, who emcees the N.S.P.R.A.'s shows, "but when you see those people compete, you realize they're still in good shape, and they have all kinds of talent."