Interstate Adventures

While having dinner at Cody Steakhouse our waitress said, “Make sure you get a seat in the Buzzard Roost when you go to the rodeo. You’ll see all the animals and action.” We arrived early and walked around trying to remember where we were supposed to go. We were surrounded by people in Western hats. Some were white with brown bands and big brims. Some hats looked brand new and some looked worn. Nearly everyone was wearing one. 

Bruce left our spot in the bleachers to get a couple of waters. While he was gone, a lady in a sleeveless gingham red and white shirt and jean skirt came next to me and started shouting over me to her friends across the way. She sounded exasperated as she said in French “I could not find you. Now I cannot get over there. Oh là là.”  She had her hands full with a hot dog, nachos, and a drink. I thought, I just hit the jackpot. I immediately started speaking to her in French.

Her friend came over and answered my question before she could. He said at first we are all from Marseille. Then he shook his head and said, “Non, non pas Marseille.” He said Toulon, it’s near Marseille. Marseille is too crowded and busy, he said. I assured him I knew exactly where it is. I was in Montpellier, not far from Toulon in March.  

The lady explained that they were a line dancing group and eleven of them traveled together from Denver to Cody which is about an eight hour drive. I wondered if there was line dancing in Cody, so I asked her. She said they didn’t get to dance in Cody but they did in Denver. 

`This was her first trip to the United States. I asked, somewhat baffled, “How do you line dance so far away from the American West.” She told me there are line dancing clubs all over France. They take trips to Spain, Austria, and the UK to dance. We had both traveled a long way to experience the American West for the first time. She had to go so I said, “Bienvenue.” She exclaimed “Américains sont très gentils!”`

I was so fascinated with what I had just learned and Bruce wasn’t back yet, so I turned around to an American looking family behind me all in cowboy hats. I told them about this French dance group thinking they would be as fascinated as I was. The gentleman responded in a Spanish accent. He was from Spain and his wife, Irish. They were visiting from Dublin. 

Then the announcer walked into the dusty arena and greeted all of us and asked if we were ready to see some rodeo. We all cheered. This was all of our first rodeo.