For the second year in a row I was able to spend a couple of days in Apache Junction, Arizona photographing the Lost Dutchman Days rodeo, which this year celebrated its 46th anniversary. As I’ve said before, one of the things I like most about what I do is having the opportunity to watch amazing people do incredible things. I am a city boy from the East Coast, so one wouldn’t expect that I would have a natural affinity for the rodeo. But, it is a thrill to witness the skill and fearlessness of the men and women who compete in this sport.
I had a short conversation with the parents of a former rodeo contestant who retired after having his face kicked in by a bull. They told me that their son, who had competed in a number of sports, used to say that there was no rush comparable to an eight second ride on the back of a bull. I believe that. These animals are HUGE – 2,000 pounds of twisting, slashing fury – and they have absolutely no regard for the safety of the cowboys on their backs. As one of the cowboys said, at least the horses have some sense of rapport with humans. The bulls would just as soon kill you.
Here, a bull spins out of the chute:

It’s hard to predict what he’s going to do, but sometimes he’s just going to go vertical:

And sometimes he’s going to throw you off like you’re a rag doll… and then he’s going to try to trample you:

It is not, however, all about the bulls. There are also equally wild rides on horses, both with and without saddles. Here is a cowboy coming out of the chute:

Sometimes the rides are almost balletic:

And sometimes it’s just hanging on for dear life:

There are calf-roping events:

And an event where a cowboy jumps off the back of a perfectly good horse and tries to wrestle a steer to the ground:

Sometimes it works… and sometimes it comes up a draw:

Women compete in two events – calf-roping and the barrel race:

And behind it all is a value system grounded in church and nation – the devotion to country is palpable:


















I love having wilderness at the edge of my suburban existence. In this instance, 3 million acres of the Tonto National Forest. I was out for a drive one morning along the Salt River in Tonto, less than 15 miles from home, when I saw a small group of wild horses, including this mother and foal, drinking at the edge of the river. Wild horses. How cool is that?