Jaripeo—The Drive-in Rodeo

    The young man straddled the scarred metal tubing of the chute, adjusted his black sombrero and stared down at the bull beneath him.  Although only 13, he looked older and was already an experienced bullrider.  The beast jammed into the narrow enclosure below was as black as the boy’s sombrero.  He bellowed in anger at his confinement.  Soon, the two would spend a few intimate seconds together, charging across the dusty field ringed with cars and pickups.  A band would play and people would cheer.  With any luck, both participants would emerge unscathed.

   A jaripeo is a form of rodeo held in small communities across the vast cowboy country of Northern Mexico.  The singular event is usually bull riding with men, boys and occasionally even young women paying a small fee to take part.  Jaripeos are usually held around festival days.  Mata Ortíz and many other towns and villages will hold these events on November 20^th, anniversary of the beginning of the revolution in 1910 against the dictator Porifirio Díaz.

   In Mata, the jaripeo takes place in the baseball stadium. Spectators fill the stands and perch atop the outfield walls.  Those who want an up close and personal view drive their vehicles into the stadium and back flush against the wall.  Most arrive in trucks and soon chairs are set up and beer coolers are opened in the beds of the pickups.

   At this event, held in August, 60 bulls and steers (bulls without an important operating part) were herded from the plain across the river during a driving rainstorm the evening before.  The morning of the jaripeo was bright, clear and fresh.  Each animal was sorted in a corral and numbered with washable spray paint.  A committee matched the bulls to the men and boys who wanted to ride.  Care was taken to ensure the massive Brahmins and other large animals were not allotted to the adolescents and less experienced riders.

   Shortly after 2 pm, the stands were a hubbub of fans and trucks were jamming themselves against each other along the outfield wall.  Beers and sodas were sold or being hoisted from the coolers.  Vendors were wheeling their little carts around the inside perimeter, hawking their paletas and ice cream cones.  A local band blared the Musica Norteña so popular in northern Mexico.  After a parade around the field by the three designated queens, dressed in black and gold charra regalia, and their cowboy escorts, everyone waited eagerly for the first rider.

   A bull was prodded into a small chute and a helper looped the two-handled pretal over its back and attached the strap under the animal’s belly.  The rider who had been allotted the number of that bull gingerly slid onto its back and grabbed the pretal’s wooden handholds.  The gate opened, the bull shot out like a bouncing, weaving cannonball and the band struck up a tune.  The rider survived his trip careening across the field and finally leapt to safety.  Three cowboys galloped away from a group milling in the outfield to lasso and bulldog the bull to retrieve the pretal.  Meanwhile, another cowboy picked up the heroic rider for a quick canter to the queens for a congratulatory kiss.  Already, the next rider was preparing for his duel with a steer.  And so went the afternoon.

   It was midway through the day when the youngest rider, the 13-year old, pulled on his gloves and climbed the chute.  His bull was bigger than the other two he had ridden the previous year.  But, he was bigger and stronger, too.  His father checked that the leather strap and handhold on the pretal were secure. He nodded assurance to his son.

   Using the metal bars as steps, the boy eased down the chute, dropped onto the bull’s dark, sweaty back and dug his knees into the animal’s sides.  Gripping the pretal tightly with both hands, he was ready. 

    The gate opened.

   Launching himself past a cluster of cheering onlookers, the young bull bounced and twisted towards the imagined freedom of the outfield.  The boy’s hat caught the wind and disappeared behind him.  His legs flew up, but he leaned back clutching the pretal and maintained his balance.  Two outriders flanked him as the bull charged past second base.  The youngster hung on and wore his ride out.  Near the outfield fence, the bull slowed to a trot and his rider dropped lightly to the ground.  The animal meekly allowed a cowboy to remove the leather strap while the boy mounted an outrider’s horse for his triumphant ride across the stadium to the awaiting jaripeo queens.

    The jaripeo is an all-day social event and the bullriding is just part of the fun.  All afternoon, the young men circle the outside of the baseball stadium on their horses, catching the eyes of many a fair señorita.  If a boy is lucky, one of the girls might allow him to take her on a short canter.  Afterwards, I asked my young friend why he wore his best clothes while riding the bull, instead of work clothes he wouldn’t mind getting dirty.

            “To look more handsome,” he replied to what was probably a really stupid question.

            It must have worked, for he had no trouble finding girls to escort around the stadium with him for the rest of the afternoon.  

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