Home of the Cowboys: Day Five, Kizashi Adventure

No trip through the US is complete without a pilgrimage to cowboy country, and our trip through the southern states has taken us straight into the epicenter. Ft. Worth, Texas, which many people think of as merely a Dallas suburb, is in fact a major city in its own right, and one with a unique heritage. It was originally a US Army outpost, but later became integral to Texas’ cattle industry. Millions of “beeves”  (beef on the hoof) came through on cattle drives, driven by rowdy ranchers who stopped in Ft. Worth to shower, pick up supplies, and enjoy creature comforts before hitting the trail. 

Though the cattle drives are a thing of the past, cowboys still congregate in Ft. Worth for purposes both social and commercial. They’re as loud and boisterous as they ever were; the only thing that’s really changed is that they drive trucks into town instead of riding horses.

 We arrived in Ft. Worth the previous night, with enough time to walk the dog around Sundance Square, have dinner, and go over to the Stockyards for a couple Buffalo Butt beers—the favored bottle by local brewer Rahr & Sons. (No doubt the name has absolutely zero to do with its popularity.)

The Stockyard district was buzzing with activity when we left. We poked our heads inside a couple other bars, including live music joint The White Elephant, and the massive honkey-tonk Billy Bob’s, wishing we could stay. It wasn’t possible, though. I had a firm meeting time set the following morning at the new Cowboys Stadium, home to the 2011 Super Bowl.

With multiple Super Bowl-related assignments on the docket, I depart to the much-buzzed-about stadium on the morning of the 30^th of December. This trip is the only time all year I’ll be within 50 miles of Arlington, Texas—creating sort of a “now or never” situation. 

It doesn’t endear me to the staff. On the bright side, the weather is beautiful, and the Kizashi handles all the loops and twists and sudden lane changes and decelerations of a typical Dallas traffic morning with no trouble whatsoever. We arrive on time and hike off to find our stadium Sherpa. 

After a tour that seems to last an entire day, I can confirm that indeed, Cowboys Stadium is one of the biggest, boldest, most expensive statements of in-your-face American wealth that anyone has ever seen. The big-screen TV above the field alone costs what the entire former stadium cost to build. 

You could drive the Kizashi all around the place—from the foyer to the VIP walkways for suite owners through the concession areas and in 360s around the standing-room-only crowd areas. You could probably drive an entire fleet of Kizashis abreast through the main entrance—the 3-story glass wall retracts entirely. 

 In case you were wondering, yes. Super Bowl 2011 will be a good time for the lucky few who go. For true Texas flavor, though, if I were VIP enough to warrant invitations to the event of my choosing, I would go to another event happening around the same time.

The Ft Worth Stock Show and Rodeo gets my vote as the most rip-snorting’, most visually entertaining, and most authentic sporting event of the season—even though it happens every year, whereas the Super Bowl is a first. Maybe because of that, in fact. This is a tradition and part of the vital essence of the city. It’s been the high point of the local calendar year for generations. And while the general consensus is that Super Bowl is equally important this year (in fact, the Stock Show closes one day early so as not to conflict with Super Bowl Sunday), football is not going to take over the entire weekend. Indeed, posters distributed across the Stockyards show a picture of a crazy-eyed bull with the words, “What Big Game?”

We get a preview of the Stock Show/Rodeo vibe later that evening, wandering into a restaurant called Cattlemens that turns out to be full to the rafters with honest-to-goodness, overall-wearing, whiskey-drinking, yeehawing cowboys. Not the drugstore variety, our waitress assures us—these guys just completed a bull auction in the basement. They are feeling the New Year’s spirit. They are feeling all kinds of stuff that’s luckily 90% unintelligible. Whooping and cursing and screaming till the waitresses cover their ears and wince,  the men spill out into the night, bellies first.

We worry that some of them might be at Billy Bob’s later. And maybe they were. With hundreds of people spread out across the biggest honkey-tonk in the world, even the loudest cowboys can get lost…or just find a quiet corner and pass out. All we know is, it’s a peaceful night at the honkey-tonk. Families pose for pictures on the fake bucking bronco, college girls strut their long legs in  short shorts and cowboy boots, and hundreds of couples Texas two-step their way around the dance floor without incident . Meanwhile we perch on stools and contemplate a view that is—in spite of the cigarette smoke and the beer—as charming and family-friendly as a night out at the bars could possibly be.