International Gay Rodeo Association World Finals
El Reno, Oklahoma
October 26, 2024
Walking into Canadian County’s Expo Center last weekend, I was greeted by drag queens, rainbow flags and a loud dose of Rob Zombie on the speakers. No, this wasn’t “The Boulet Brothers’ Dragula.” It was the International Gay Rodeo Association (IGRA) World Finals in El Reno, Oklahoma.
The IGRA formed in Reno, Nevada, in 1985. El Reno is most known for a different combo of meat and buns, the legendary Okie onion burger (and trust me, the rodeo crowd would’ve loved that joke), but the Gay Rodeo Finals have also called Oklahoma’s Reno home for the last four years.
Initially started as a safe space for gay cowboys to compete, the event has developed its own identity over the years with the inclusion of unique events like Wild Drag and Goat Dressing. Cheeky kitsch spilled from the arena with vendors hawking items ranging from yassified cowboy hats to bejeweled Friday the 13th masks. The announcer, sounding like our own Evan Hughes, added to the camp. ”Ladies and Gentlemen, he is keeping that pole uppppppppppp-right,” he jeered, “and isn’t that alllll that matters?” Granted, he was commenting on a Pole Splitting run.
Despite the announcer’s shameless tone, this is a serious event with serious athletes. In Goat Dressing, pairs of competitors race against the clock to wrangle an unruly goat while trying to complete the amusing task of dressing it up. And many of the contestants wore matching outfits and accessories, like sets of translucent butterfly wings and tiaras. One team surprised the entire arena when a cowboy got down on one knee and proposed to his teammate-slash-boyfriend. He enthusiastically said yes, while a goat wearing panties bleated in what was either approval or confused indifference.
A traveling museum of Gay Rodeo artifacts was displayed in its own section of the venue, highlighting the shifts in aesthetic through the years and documenting the importance of the community during the AIDS epidemic and gay witch hunts of the ’80s. Apart from the comical events and protective community, the Association also fosters greater inclusivity by letting women compete against men in bull riding, which traditional rodeo associations do not. The IGRA has no gender guidelines at all.
Not everyone competing is queer, either, and the same was true for the audience. The crowd was a mix of drag queens, gay and lesbian couples in both traditional and fabulously gaudy western wear, and straight-presenting people in either sort of getup, or—opting for jeans and T-shirt—neither. The bleachers were a pastiche of wigs, animal print, bedazzled pearl snaps, flashy boots and glittering rainbows. In a battle vest adorned with heavy metal patches, I thought I’d be a bit of a sore thumb, even though my hat and persona screamed “queer cowboy.” The aforementioned Robert Zombie and a stream of positive comments on my denim disabused me of that notion.
The IGRA is trying to disabuse a great many notions, it seems to me. Oklahoma, even at its most “country,” is more than just angry white men in MAGA hats. Events like the Boley rodeo, the Orville Peck show, and this one continue the literally life-saving work of widening our view of what this state is, has been, and can be.
