Horses That Buck

Bill Smith competed in his first NFR in 1965 and a few years later after he’d started to make money and get noticed a reporter in Dallas asked Smith what he liked best about rodeo. “Horses that buck,” said Cody Bill – nicknamed for the town in Wyoming he called home. Rodeo announcers followed suit and would introduce Smith by mentioning his favorite part of the sport. Now that phrase has been turned into the title of a book written by Margot Kahn. “Horses That Buck” is in its third printing. Bill traveled to Oklahoma for a book signing session recently and didn’t have to scratch his name once by the second day because all the books had been sold. “I can’t really judge it, but I’ve been told it’s a page-turner,” said Smith. He won three bronc riding world championships and had many stories to tell Kahn. A love story between Bill and his wife Carole is evident from the beginning.

They moved to Thermopolis, Wyoming from Cody and started a quarterhorse ranch in 1981. It’s grown to become one of the most successful operations of its kind. They have two sales per year. Bill credits Carole for making it work. At the center of everything is a love of horses. “Before I could walk, I was riding. I’d ride anything and I always wanted to ride buckin’ horses,” Smith recalls. Carole was a professional barrel racer. They met along the rodeo road in 1973 – the year Bill won his third gold buckle. Thirty-five years later it is clear Carole and Bill’s bond, and nurturing of horses, remains as strong – or stronger - than ever.

Bill came from a poor coal mining clan that survived in Red Lodge, Montana where the two most famous families in the early days of rodeo resided. The Linderman and Greenough names are permanently etched in the Hall of Fame. “I saw the lifestyle they had and I saw my lifestyle. I knew that I liked theirs better,” said Smith. As a boy he became a fanatic about catching range horses, covering them with a borrowed saddle, and trying to ride.

When the mines shut down, the Smith family moved to Cody, Wyoming and Bill developed his skills at the Cody Nite Rodeo. He would grow to become the best bronc rider in the world during the late 1960s and early 1970s. For those of us who came of age during that tumultuous time in our country there is something quite comforting today about listening to Bill’s calm voice as he reflects on the height of his rodeo career: “I couldn’t handle half of the horses I tried to ride and I never saw one horse I didn’t love. ‘Descent’ was the best bucking horse I ever saw. When they retired him at the Denver Stock Show I sat there with tears running down my cheeks,” said Smith with a noticeable sheen on his eyes even now. Smith would mount ‘Descent’ more than anyone and came out five for nine. “He took anybody on and didn’t ask for any favors. I have so much respect for him.”

You quit competing in professional rodeo when you can’t win anymore. Bill Smith went out on top and while he has grave concerns about the current status of the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association he harbors nothing but respect for the young people starting their careers in rodeo now. Smith’s brother, Rick, is rodeo coach at Central Wyoming Community College in Riverton. “There isn’t a kid on his team that I wouldn’t love to have in my house and around me all the time. They are so clean cut, well mannered and All-American,” he asserts.

One of those kids is Seth Glause who will compete at his first national finals this year in bull riding. Seth is also a bronc rider and one day wants to make the finals in both events. If he does you can bet a three-time world champ will be sitting in front of his RCA in Thermopolis confidently rooting for young Seth but equally excited about the bucks of his horse.

PHOTO CAPTIONS & CREDITS
*Bill and Carole Smith, 2006. Photo by Holly Clanahan.
Courtesy of America's Horse
*Bill Smith on his father's packhorse, ca. 1945.
Collection of Bill Smith
*Seth Glause of Rock Springs mentally prepares for his ride.

Lucky 13

On March 13, 1949 he won the first rodeo contest he’d ever entered. He wore the back number “13” at the National Finals Rodeo and won the bareback riding competition in 1962. And on August 13, 1987 Ralph Buell shot a hole-in-one playing golf. “Thirteen is not unlucky for me,” says Buell.

Ralph is sitting at his dining room table in Cheyenne, Wyoming where he retired from a house painting business several years ago. Ralph and his wife have a lovely brick home in a section of town called Western Hills. You might know a house painter would have a brick house. Buell has propped on a chair a poster-sized photo of himself. I’d never met Ralph until a couple of weeks ago. I can’t say who Ralph Buell was before. Today he is slender, clear-eyed and gracious toward the strangers gathered around him. The photo depicts a much different person physically. I think it is safe to say Ralph has changed. As a doctor once told me many years back: “You have to modify your lifestyle.” Another medical person later said something to the effect that if I planned to enjoy retirement some alterations were in order. Maybe medical people convinced Ralph too. I’m not sure. Whatever happened; it worked. Good for him.

Buell rode bucking horses for a living from 1952 to 1968. He won twenty big rodeos including San Antonio, Fort Worth, Pendleton, Prescott and Cheyenne. He championed “The Daddy” the same year – 1962 – that he got the gold buckle at the national finals. It was the first year for the NFR in Los Angeles. The previous three were staged in Dallas. During most of the 1950s the biggest rodeo of the year brought cowboys to New York City for a month of competition in Madison Square Garden. Ralph Buell was there for eight years and found the time in New York pretty enjoyable overall. He still chuckles about the fellow and his kids who came up to him before the rodeo one night. “Anybody get hurt last night?” the man inquired. “Were they supposed to?” replied Ralph. The ranch-raised have a gift for quick comebacks.

Ralph had a nemesis horse he could never really master. “Come Apart” did just that to most who mounted for an eight-second try. Buell got past him during the 1962 national finals and that helped secure the champion’s buckle and saddle. The day (or round) money back then was about $400.

As I watched Ralph Buell thumb through his leather-bound book of picture memories it struck me that the most important, and meaningful, act in this person’s life had little to do with his accomplishments in the rodeo arena. Of much more value to Ralph and those around him is proving he was no longer that man pictured at the end of the dining room table.

Special Ks

They stood tall in the middle of a Casper rodeo arena last weekend forming a line of very special “ks” – Kaleb, Kanin and Klayton Asay – each rail thin and over six-feet tall. Their last name is pronounced “A-see.” What we all could see and feel, through a teary haze once the singer began her version of “God Bless America,” was unabashed pride in our flag, our country, and our young people. Brothers Kaleb and Kanin were there to compete in the rodeo. Klayton was standing on turned American soil one more night before readying himself for a second tour of duty in the Middle East. None of the young men has reached twenty-five years on this earth. Klayton can’t talk about his job in the military. Word does spread nonetheless that he is a Special Forces Interrogator. Whatever his task you can be assured Klayton does it with honor. He is strong of mind, body and spirit – clearly a family trait.

Kaleb Asay is fast becoming a cowboy to watch in professional saddle bronc riding competition. He’s off to such a start that he has just been named rookie-of-the-year in his event.

Kanin Asay is one of pro rodeo’s best bull riders. He could have stayed home following a serious injury in early July. Kanin went head-to-head with a big bull several times. He remembers very little. Onlookers say there were probably four head bashings and Kanin was flopped to the side where he was hung-up and thrashed about mercilessly before going to the dirt and suffering further punishment from the bull’s powerful legs. A helicopter rushed Kanin to a Portland, Oregon hospital. A ruptured spleen was removed. There was an ear to reset since it was half torn off. An eye socket was smashed. But Kanin awoke determined to ride again. And by the latter part of September he was back at his chosen profession. Kanin Asay will return to the national finals next month in Las Vegas. He has a very long stretch of stitching from breastbone to navel but confidence is lighting his eyes again. His stride is long and straight. His Christian beliefs light every day.

He now dutifully dons a helmet which has already proved an invaluable addition to his gear. His helmeted hero, brother Klayton, is back in harm’s way. The least Kanin will do is ride his best and pray for Klayton. After all, Kanin can learn about and prepare for each bull. Klayton faces a mysterious enemy in a foreign land where no amount of training or experience insures a safe landing back in this country.

As the Asay men of Powell, Wyoming strained under the spotlight Saturday night and the singer – a veteran paratrooper in Desert Storm – gave her American song life, the brothers’ grandfather let tears stream down his face. He was not alone.