A young Indian cowboy sits alone and brooding high in the stands at the International Indian Finals Rodeo in Albuquerque, New Mexico, September 2012.
The contestants wait all evening for the shot at glory. Whether it be a barrel race lasting nearly a minute, a team calf roping event lasting half a minute, or the eternity that 8 seconds can seem on the back of a raging bull, they have one chance in the evening to pull off a great ride or to suffer abject defeat and possible injury.
I don’t know what led this young cowpoke to brood so: a poor ride; a father’s scolding; the mocking of friends. But it was clear he needed to be with his own thoughts for a while.
The International Indian Finals Rodeo drew competitors from Calgary, from Hopi, from Mescalero Apache, from Navajo and from many in between, with each competitor carrying the pride of their tribe on their shoulders. In addition, they carried the pride of Native, First Nation’s People.
There were not many spectators. A few curious attendees, but mostly the sense was that the stands were populated with the competitors’ family members. But I tell you, the competitors were as good as they come.