The Day Andy Giff was Champion of the Montana

There was a little quiet and a thump from down in the wooden chutes and I saw my Dad bob up behind a gate, then let himself down easy, looking down at the horse under him, one hand holding for a minute to the top of the gate. I knew it was him because of … Continue reading The Day Andy Giff was Champion of the Montana →

Old Rodeo Man

The ground is an absolute, the air lets you down. The way you leave your bronc sustains a compromise with violence you embrace the way you mean an oath. Forever. Without fault forfeit or regret— a repossession of what you will never let go, even when you lose stirrup grip and (so finally) your life. … Continue reading Old Rodeo Man →