The information lady told us we best get to the StockYards by 10.30AM at the absolute latest, for the Fort Worth Herd Longhorn Cattle Drive which happens daily at 11.30AM and 4.00PM. We struggled to find the right bus stop with all the roads being worked upon, but figured that if we had got into the city (approximately a mile away from the hotel) in 10minutes, and the Stockyards was only 2miles away (as the infomation lady had told us) we decided it faster to walk than to try and find a bus that we may or may not have missed. This would be our first mistake of the day. Doris at the info booth was obviously confused with distances, however we only realised this when we were already 3miles through our 6mile (10km) hike. We managed to get some lovely views however, of a stream,
...A few lonely trees
And some dilapidated buildings.
And then we walked...
And walked...
And walked...
And then we found a moose which boosted our spirits...
And then we walked...
Naturally we missed the Cattle Drive, but all frustration dissipated when my eyes fell upon Patrón, a Longhorn cow, with a phenomenally large bladder which he proceeded to demonstrate by emptying all 3 gallons contained within it. Thoroughly impressed and in awe at the sheer brilliance of this beast, I sat on him.
Fort Worth Stockyards claims to be the history book of the livestock industry in Texas, with each chapter represented by the original bricks and mortar, the wood corrals, the men, and the music that are all still a part of the the Stockyards today (http://www.fortworthstockyards.org). As far as Casey and I could see it consisted predominantly of bikies, red necks and tourist shops. Not that we minded overly, but we did keep some of our stronger opinions to ourselves!
We wandered about the shops, looking at lots of wooden things we knew Aussie customs would be thrilled to deny/take home for their own houses... And then we hit the mother load. The biggest taffy shop I've ever seen! There was literally barrels of the stuff! Thankfully all individually packaged, or else who knows how many Augustus Gloops we would have lost! So Casey and I got busy shoving taffy into our little buckets before being beaten with the price per pound cost.
Picked up a few olden day bars for a few special little monkeys back home (you know who you are!) and showed a great amount of self restraint. Casey meanwhile left a little trail of empty taffy wrappers as we trundled off to the largest honky tonk, Billy Bob's Texas (www.billybobstexas.com). While it seems weird getting a bite in a popular country and western nightclub at 3pm, we knew we should try BBQ (again) now that we were in the "West". It wasn't unpleasant but it was also lacking the charred taste Australian BBQ meat boasts which we were both so accustomed to.
Checking watches, and (this time) the bus timetable, we headed out of Fort Worth Stockyards back to the city to ensure we got ourselves to the 7pm Rodeo in time. While the Rodeo wasn't until later, our admission ticket incuded entry to the carnival that was sharing the grounds of the Rodeo so we headed out there. While there was an infitite number of flashing lights and a million children, I enjoyed the carnival more than I did Disney. Maybe it was the lack of Mickey Mouse being crammed down my throat, or that people had significantly less teeth and wore dungarees. I can't be sure, but I had a gay old time. (http://www.fwssr.com)
I thought I'd get into the spirit a little, and try a regional food popular in North America at carnivals, fairs, sporting events, and seaside resorts. I am referring, of course, to the Funnel cake. This "delicacy" is made by pouring batter into hot cooking oil in a circular pattern and deep frying the overlapping mass until golden-brown. And then covered in a ridiculous amount of powdered sugar, or as we in the First world know it; icing sugar (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Funnel_cake).
It was terrifying, delicious and coronary inducing. Unfortunately we decided to skip the tea cups this time just in case we projectiled on a yokel. Thems sure can hits hard, hyuck.
There were a few million stores to buy authentic leather and other cowboy apparel from, which helped us burn off a little of the Funnel diabetes. We wandered through the cattle barns and stables, looking at donkeys, ponies and horses. I was mostly enthralled by the donkeys, and how much they resembled Shrek's Donkey... Which really shouldn't have been as exciting as it was, so I can only assume it was the first donkey I've ever seen!
Finally it was time for the big event, the phenomenon we'd come so far accross the country to see... The Rodeo! At that very moment, right before the Rodeo commence, I was as hyped up as I ever will be about a rodeo.
And I doubt I will go to one again. The MC pretty much jumped straight into shouting about Jesus and how if you pray to Jesus asking him for money, he'll give it to you like some fictitious Disney character, and informing the delirious, brain-washed crowd that we had to "fix America before we can fix the world", presumably by pushing good Christian morals and belief on everyone (like buying an SUV so you can use all the petrol for yourself, or by lynching homosexuals). Casey and I were sickened and didn't join in the cultist whooping and applause for the revolting lack of basic morals and dignity with how human beings should be treated. And then the actual "show" began. I have no doubt forming a lasso and getting it to move in a consistent circle, let alone looping it over something requires phenomenal skill and plenty of training. However I don't think that releasing a terrified calf and then chasing it down on your horse to jump on its back, twist it's neck to the heavens so it falls to the ground and tying it up is overly impressive. Maybe I'm just a city slicker that doesn't understand the harsh realities of the country. But I struggle to see the correlation between loving thy neighbour and terrifying animals by near breaking their vertebrae for fun. Or worse, money. Maybe Jesus doesn't always grant that wish after all.
Angered by the dimwitted rednecks and supreme animal abuse we had witnessed, we saw one actual cow get "rodeo'd" then left. We returned to the hotel, but were hungry so ventured out into the night, off to Molone's Pub which was a bar we had passed several times and had phenomenal reviews on yelp (http://www.malonespub.com). Upon arrival we asked if the kitchen was still open, but alas, they were not. Our little hearts sunk a little, which was possibly conveyed in our eyes losing their last glimmer of shine, until the barman, Velton, said there had been a private booking earlier and there was some ribs and bread left over if we fancied, on the house. Ignoring the usual salmonella phobias, we gratefully accepted his offer. From this moment on the night took a steep turn for the better, and our night of frustrated confusion was forgotten. Whether it was the complementary shot of local TX blended whiskey or the beer tasters which so much reminded me of the greatest bar of all time back home in Brisbane, we pretty quickly fell in love with the place. We had good chats with the bar staff, whom we spent much of the evening shotting Jäger with and having free reign of the jukebox. We ended up staying at Molone's late into the night, shooting pool with a couple of guys from Oklahoma who were down for work. Hands down the greatest, friendliest bar I've been to in the US, with other local drinkers telling us tales and offering recommendations of what we should do on our last day in Fort Worth.
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