I knew the rodeo HOF was in Colorado Springs, but I also knew it wouldn’t be terribly exciting—so I saved it for a bad-weather day. Saturday dawned snowy and messy with more snow promised later.
I was the only car in the lot when I arrived. I mentioned to the woman who sold me my entrance ticket that I’d picked the right day if I didn’t like crowds. She told me she’d just been on the phone with her boss who had told her to close up at 1:00 if nobody came. A few other people came by while I was there, but not many. The snow came down hard shortly after I left, so I’m guessing it closed early.
There were two floors. The top one contained a small museum of rodeo equipment—saddles, bridles, cowboy hats, etc.—and explained the history of each.
The main floor was the hall of fame, with display cases filled with plaques for each member along with memorabilia and equipment for each. Members included athletes, behind-the-scenes personnel, clowns, animals, and even a handful of entire rodeos. I was surprised at how many members there were, but who am I to judge.
One of two or three members I’d actually heard of.
The courtyard was lined with sculptures. There was also an arena where they demonstrate rodeo events in the summer. They also keep retired rodeo animals out there, but the woman at the desk said they move them elsewhere in the winter because of danger from bears and mountain lions. This in the middle of Colorado Springs, remember.
I spotted this photo in the history section. I don’t know of any relatives who liked to bit the lips of steers, but there’s probably a lot about my relatives I don’t know.
I got into a conversation with the desk woman on my way out. She had relatives in Chicagoland. She tried hard to convince me to visit frequently, but I doubt I will. She did inspire me to see one of the local rodeo, however.