The Rocky Mountain Regional Rodeo in Colorado is the longest running gay rodeo in America

Like most rodeos, there are lots of jeans and cowboy hats at the National Western Complex in Denver. Country music is playing and competitors compete in roping and barrel racing, fighting for first place and prize money.

But at this rodeo, there are drag queens too. Welcome to the Rocky Mountain Regional Rodeo, the longest-running gay rodeo in the US.

Alizae Roze Jackwell — that’s her drag name — prepares to jump a bull. She’s wearing a pink Barbie dress and a curly blonde wig. Her two teammates in the “Wild Drag” event grab the cow and carry it across two lines marked in the sand. She then gets on top of it and rides it across a third line.

“It’s tough, it’s rough and you get dirty, but it’s totally worth it,” Jackwell said.

Wild Drag is one of the “camp” events, specific to the International Gay Rodeo Association (IGRA) circuit. Another is a race to put underwear on a goat. They are silly and lighthearted, but competitors must compete in a camp event, in addition to the typical rough stock, roping and speed events, to qualify for All-Around Cowboy or All-Around Cowgirl, the highest honors in rodeo.

The first gay rodeo was held in 1976 in Reno, Nevada. LGBTQ+ people were able to participate without fear of homophobia, says Nick Villanueva, a professor of sports science at the University of Colorado Boulder who is writing a forthcoming book on gay rodeo.

“That’s part of the gay liberation movement of the 1970s,” he said, “which was: if you don’t want us, we’ll create our own movement.”

Colorado has held a gay rodeo every year since 1983, this year marking the 41st. Other rodeos have sprung up in places like Albuquerque, Los Angeles and Oklahoma City.

Candy Pratt grew up riding horses. She attended her first gay rodeo in Texas in 1988 after seeing a poster in a bar.

“I hadn’t fully come out to my family yet, but it was a place where you could be openly gay. It was just a safe space at that time,” she said.

In addition, at the gay rodeo, women could compete in rough livestock events such as bronc and bull riding, which were normally reserved for men.

Pratt remembers hundreds of participants and thousands of fans at rodeos that lasted until midnight.

“There were so many people in the stands. When you turned the first barrel, they started screaming and your horse went across the arena,” she said.

Pratt was a judge at this year’s rodeo, but she’s a fierce competitor, holding the record for most first-place buckles and All-Around Cowgirl titles. She was the president of IGRA and is in the organization’s Hall of Fame.

As the AIDS epidemic spread in the 1980s, rodeo associations faced increased intolerance. In Pratt’s first year on the circuit, the Reno rodeo finals were canceled by a district attorney. Organizers, including in Colorado, struggled to book arenas and convince contractors to work at the rodeo.

“We said, ‘This is for a gay rodeo,’ and they said, ‘Oh no, they’re not coming,’” Pratt said.

But they came together through fundraising to address the AIDS crisis, and many found lifelong friends and a sense of community.

That’s true for Villanueva, the CU Boulder professor who competes himself. He said it’s helped him get back to what he loved about his rural upbringing while challenging aspects of hypermasculinity. He remembers the first time he lassoed a bull.

“My husband was there, and he just gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. And it was just something where you don’t have to worry about what people are going to say in the stands, or when you walk into the parking lot of the arena at night,” he said.

Villanueva said rodeo attendance has declined during the COVID-19 pandemic and he worries about the younger generation’s commitment.

Kade Hiller rides his leopard horse Appaloosa Pongo around the practice arena, preparing for his first rodeo on horseback.

“I’m excited. I’m a little nervous,” he said before his race, which will involve navigating a course of scattered poles.

Hiller, who is 27, grew up in Haxtun, near the Nebraska border. There are more accepting spaces for queer people these days, he said, but gay rodeo still feels important, especially amid rising anti-LGBTQ+ hate.

“Whatever happens,” he said, “we’re going to find a place where we can get the horses and the competitors together, and we’re going to have a rodeo no matter what.”

After learning about gay rodeo at a Pride parade a few years ago, he now serves on the board of the Colorado Gay Rodeo Association and said he wants to be a part of the sport’s future, starting with celebrating the 50th gay rodeo next year in Reno.

This story was produced by the Mountain West News Bureau, a partnership between Wyoming Public Media, Nevada Public Radio, Boise State Public Radio in Idaho, KUNR in Nevada, KUNC in Colorado and KANW in New Mexico, with support from affiliated stations in the region. Funding for the Mountain West News Bureau is provided in part by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.