Trail Rides to Houston's Rodeo Paying Homage on Horseback to the Disappearing Cowboy
Annual Ride Pays Homage on Horseback to Cowboy Roots
February 21, 2015
By Leah Binkovitz
The meeting starts with a prayer. Standing in a circle around two narrow tables and scattered schoolhouse chairs, the riders dressed in denim and heavy jackets grasp hands. A woman with a baby in her arms stays seated but the circle gathers around her, one woman pressing a wrist to her shoulder. "Connected," someone shouts. "Amen. Amen," the circle replies.
It's the last meeting before the Northeastern Trail Riders Association will saddle the horses, pack the wagons and begin the 108-mile trek from Cheek, Texas, into Houston.
To many Houstonians, the rodeo trail rides are little more than seasonal roadblocks. But to their riders, they're annual high points of the year, salutes to Texas history, cowboy ideals and a disappearing way of life. Starting from as far away as Reynosa, Mexico, the trail rides bring thousands of riders into downtown Houston, traveling over roads that were once used to transport cattle to market.
The Northeastern Trail Riders, black cowboys whose roots go back decades to when many rodeo competitions were still segregated, had gathered together hand in hand last week at the Triangle 7 Arena. The shaggy property on a dead-end street serves as the group's meeting house in Houston. The night's agenda: to go over the trail ride itinerary one more time.
It all begins today in Cheek with cowboy church, a service with a distinctly Western, rural flair before the riders set out in the morning. There will be 5 a.m. wake-up calls throughout the week and zydeco dances at night. But the big event comes next Saturday morning, when the 300 or so black cowboys will join the 12 other trail rides in a parade through downtown Houston, kicking off the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.
Started by Salt Grass
The biggest ride, though, is the Salt Grass Trail Ride, drawing some 1,400 riders. Called the "Granddaddy of Them All," Salt Grass was the one that started it all. It began as a bet in 1952. Then it was only four riders coming from Brenham, Texas, to prove it could be done and also to raise awareness for Houston's livestock show.
The show had grown since the first one in 1932, adding rodeo events and entertainment like Gene Autry, "the Singing Cowboy," and the trail ride would be a way to carry news of the coming show across the land while recalling Texas' cowboy ties. As the state evolved, so did the show: It incorporated art competitions, research funding for state colleges, and ever-bigger music acts. In 1970, Elvis Presley's rodeo show set an Astrodome attendance record.
The Salt Grass ride continued to grow, and other groups established their own rides to honor the communities that make up Houston's cowboy culture. Babies have been born on the trail. People have passed away.
"It gives you a big honor," said Conni Meyer, part of the Salt Grass Trail Ride.
The riders still don Western wear and travel with wooden wagons, but many opt to camp in RVs instead of under the Texas sky, and at many campsites generators hum through the night. Bankers and lawyers join the rides as cowboys, if only for a weekend. "It's a lot cleaner and nicer than what it used to be back in the day," said Meyer. "I don't know if some of the people who do the ride today would be able to survive that, not taking a bath."
Not all change is good. "It's not what it used to be," Anthony Bruno, trail boss for the Northeastern trail riders, told the meeting gathered at Triangle 7 Arena. "Where we used to take our lunch break, it's highway now." Traffic is a major trail-ride problem. "We don't want to be on Highway 90 going three miles an hour with traffic going 75," said Bruno.
'The life that we lead'
It's a lot of work to get hundreds of riders and wagons safely down the road. Each morning, the group will drive the 17 or so miles to the next camp site where a bus shuttles everyone back to retrieve the horses and wagons. Then they make that same ride, but a lot slower and on horseback, pausing for breaks and meals. Riders can pack their own provisions but there's also the chuckwagon where they can buy a warm meal cooked right on the trail. Most nights end with live music and campfires before everyone gets back up at 5 a.m. to do it all again.
Back when the routes were less crowded with cars, when Meyer was a child, she watched the Salt Grass ride from the side of the road. "We all went out to see the ride coming into Houston," she remembered. "My dad had an old station wagon. We would drive up to Brenham and stand on the side of the road. Back then it was only a two-way road, so you could see them really close."
From there, she watched her father and neighbors on horseback. She grew up riding on the outskirts of Houston, and did her first trail ride in her twenties. Though she works in the Galleria today, she lives in the country in Tomball and rides as often as she can. She rode the trail pregnant with her son, who inherited her affection for it. "He started riding as soon as he got out," she said. "It's the life that we lead."
Each ride honors a different heritage with a unique claim to Texas lore and cowboying: part history, part myth.
Despite ample historical evidence, "some people still don't believe black cowboys exist," said Bruno. Like other parts of life, the rodeo was largely segregated in its early days. Though black cowboys competed in rodeos across the country, it was often at the day's end, after white riders had cleared the arena.
Multi-ethnic journey
Established in 1957, the Prairie View Trail Ride was the first African-American trail ride affiliated with the rodeo. Northeastern broke off from that group in 1982, partly to represent the Creole black cowboys with Louisiana roots. Southwest, founded in 1993, was also once part of Prairie View.
Then there are the Hispanic trail rides, starting with Los Vaqueros Rio Grande Trail Ride, founded in 1973. Covering nearly 400 miles over three weeks, Los Vaqueros made a point of starting its ride at the border crossing from Reynosa, Mexico, bridging a land and history now separated by a line in the sand. Like Prairie View, that ride spurred others, including the Mission Trail Ride in 1990.
"It's some of the most beautiful country out there," said David Ramirez, trail boss for Los Vaqueros, and son of its founder, Larry Ramirez. He's been riding since he was 12 years old with his brother and sister beside him. He got his first horse for $80 when he was 13 years old. Now, he works all year to save up enough vacation for the three-week ride.
"It's kept us in the cowboy life," said Ramirez. "We were around our elders. It taught us respect. It taught us family values," he said. "It kept us off the streets, from running with the wrong crowd." His children join him on the trail.
That same family feeling attracted Brenda Whited to her first ride with Mission Trail 25 years ago. She owned a business doing embroidery, and when the ride's founder came in looking for someone to do their custom Western wear, he encouraged her to join them – never mind that she was white and the riders were predominantly Hispanic. She'd grown up in the country in New Mexico but had never seen anything like the Houston trail rides. She was instantly hooked.
Some of the old-timers teased her. "What are you doing here with a bunch of us Mexicans?" they would say. But they became family. "They just took me under their wing," said Whited, "and it felt like home." Now she's one of two female trail bosses and loves the ride's traditions, including starting every one with mass at Mission Espada in San Antonio.
At 59, she's sorer this year than ever before, and they've already hit cold weather. But, she said, "it's worth every minute of it."
'It's like home'
Back at Triangle 7 Arena, Bruno closed out the meeting with another circle. Today, the rides raise money for scholarships and grants, encouraging the next generation of Future Farmers of America and 4-H participants. But the ride is also about the past generations, honoring the ancestors who set out on horseback, often braving hostile lands, to set up a new life.
Following in their footsteps, Bruno said, is an extraordinary thing: "It's like home. It's like no other experience you'll have in your life."
Annual Ride Pays Homage on Horseback to Cowboy Roots
February 21, 2015
By Leah Binkovitz
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With more than 100 riders in tow, the Valley Lodge trail riders make their way down Westheimer Parkway through George Bush Park on their 71 mile journey from Brookshire Thursday, February 23, 2012, in Houston. The group was established in 1959. (photo credit: Johnny Hanson)
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It's the last meeting before the Northeastern Trail Riders Association will saddle the horses, pack the wagons and begin the 108-mile trek from Cheek, Texas, into Houston.
To many Houstonians, the rodeo trail rides are little more than seasonal roadblocks. But to their riders, they're annual high points of the year, salutes to Texas history, cowboy ideals and a disappearing way of life. Starting from as far away as Reynosa, Mexico, the trail rides bring thousands of riders into downtown Houston, traveling over roads that were once used to transport cattle to market.
The Northeastern Trail Riders, black cowboys whose roots go back decades to when many rodeo competitions were still segregated, had gathered together hand in hand last week at the Triangle 7 Arena. The shaggy property on a dead-end street serves as the group's meeting house in Houston. The night's agenda: to go over the trail ride itinerary one more time.
 |
Northeast Trail Riders Association trail boss Anthony Bruno applies wood sealer to a wagon wheel. (photo credit: James Nielsen)
|
Started by Salt Grass
The biggest ride, though, is the Salt Grass Trail Ride, drawing some 1,400 riders. Called the "Granddaddy of Them All," Salt Grass was the one that started it all. It began as a bet in 1952. Then it was only four riders coming from Brenham, Texas, to prove it could be done and also to raise awareness for Houston's livestock show.
The show had grown since the first one in 1932, adding rodeo events and entertainment like Gene Autry, "the Singing Cowboy," and the trail ride would be a way to carry news of the coming show across the land while recalling Texas' cowboy ties. As the state evolved, so did the show: It incorporated art competitions, research funding for state colleges, and ever-bigger music acts. In 1970, Elvis Presley's rodeo show set an Astrodome attendance record.
The Salt Grass ride continued to grow, and other groups established their own rides to honor the communities that make up Houston's cowboy culture. Babies have been born on the trail. People have passed away.
"It gives you a big honor," said Conni Meyer, part of the Salt Grass Trail Ride.
The riders still don Western wear and travel with wooden wagons, but many opt to camp in RVs instead of under the Texas sky, and at many campsites generators hum through the night. Bankers and lawyers join the rides as cowboys, if only for a weekend. "It's a lot cleaner and nicer than what it used to be back in the day," said Meyer. "I don't know if some of the people who do the ride today would be able to survive that, not taking a bath."
Not all change is good. "It's not what it used to be," Anthony Bruno, trail boss for the Northeastern trail riders, told the meeting gathered at Triangle 7 Arena. "Where we used to take our lunch break, it's highway now." Traffic is a major trail-ride problem. "We don't want to be on Highway 90 going three miles an hour with traffic going 75," said Bruno.
'The life that we lead'
It's a lot of work to get hundreds of riders and wagons safely down the road. Each morning, the group will drive the 17 or so miles to the next camp site where a bus shuttles everyone back to retrieve the horses and wagons. Then they make that same ride, but a lot slower and on horseback, pausing for breaks and meals. Riders can pack their own provisions but there's also the chuckwagon where they can buy a warm meal cooked right on the trail. Most nights end with live music and campfires before everyone gets back up at 5 a.m. to do it all again.
Back when the routes were less crowded with cars, when Meyer was a child, she watched the Salt Grass ride from the side of the road. "We all went out to see the ride coming into Houston," she remembered. "My dad had an old station wagon. We would drive up to Brenham and stand on the side of the road. Back then it was only a two-way road, so you could see them really close."
From there, she watched her father and neighbors on horseback. She grew up riding on the outskirts of Houston, and did her first trail ride in her twenties. Though she works in the Galleria today, she lives in the country in Tomball and rides as often as she can. She rode the trail pregnant with her son, who inherited her affection for it. "He started riding as soon as he got out," she said. "It's the life that we lead."
Each ride honors a different heritage with a unique claim to Texas lore and cowboying: part history, part myth.
Despite ample historical evidence, "some people still don't believe black cowboys exist," said Bruno. Like other parts of life, the rodeo was largely segregated in its early days. Though black cowboys competed in rodeos across the country, it was often at the day's end, after white riders had cleared the arena.
Multi-ethnic journey
Established in 1957, the Prairie View Trail Ride was the first African-American trail ride affiliated with the rodeo. Northeastern broke off from that group in 1982, partly to represent the Creole black cowboys with Louisiana roots. Southwest, founded in 1993, was also once part of Prairie View.
Then there are the Hispanic trail rides, starting with Los Vaqueros Rio Grande Trail Ride, founded in 1973. Covering nearly 400 miles over three weeks, Los Vaqueros made a point of starting its ride at the border crossing from Reynosa, Mexico, bridging a land and history now separated by a line in the sand. Like Prairie View, that ride spurred others, including the Mission Trail Ride in 1990.
"It's some of the most beautiful country out there," said David Ramirez, trail boss for Los Vaqueros, and son of its founder, Larry Ramirez. He's been riding since he was 12 years old with his brother and sister beside him. He got his first horse for $80 when he was 13 years old. Now, he works all year to save up enough vacation for the three-week ride.
"It's kept us in the cowboy life," said Ramirez. "We were around our elders. It taught us respect. It taught us family values," he said. "It kept us off the streets, from running with the wrong crowd." His children join him on the trail.
 |
| Northeast Trail Riders Association trail boss Anthony Bruno prepares for the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo trail ride on Thursday. The group, which pays homage to Creole Black Cowboys, will end its 180-mile ride on Saturday in Houston to kick off the rodeo. (photo credit: James Nielsen) |
That same family feeling attracted Brenda Whited to her first ride with Mission Trail 25 years ago. She owned a business doing embroidery, and when the ride's founder came in looking for someone to do their custom Western wear, he encouraged her to join them – never mind that she was white and the riders were predominantly Hispanic. She'd grown up in the country in New Mexico but had never seen anything like the Houston trail rides. She was instantly hooked.
Some of the old-timers teased her. "What are you doing here with a bunch of us Mexicans?" they would say. But they became family. "They just took me under their wing," said Whited, "and it felt like home." Now she's one of two female trail bosses and loves the ride's traditions, including starting every one with mass at Mission Espada in San Antonio.
At 59, she's sorer this year than ever before, and they've already hit cold weather. But, she said, "it's worth every minute of it."
'It's like home'
Back at Triangle 7 Arena, Bruno closed out the meeting with another circle. Today, the rides raise money for scholarships and grants, encouraging the next generation of Future Farmers of America and 4-H participants. But the ride is also about the past generations, honoring the ancestors who set out on horseback, often braving hostile lands, to set up a new life.
Following in their footsteps, Bruno said, is an extraordinary thing: "It's like home. It's like no other experience you'll have in your life."
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