“Mutton bustin’,” where children lie on their bellies on top of an agitated sheep and try to hang on as the ovine shoots across a large arena, is one of the most beloved traditions at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Inevitably, the contestants slide off the sheep and face-plant into the dirt, with some coming away crying, others grinning proudly. Either outcome, the crowd at the largest livestock exhibition and rodeo in the world goes wild.
The Houston rodeo, which runs March 4 to 23, is beyond Texas-size. More than 2.5 million people attended last year. If you’re not from Texas, it’s probably hard to imagine: Only 6 percent of last year’s attendees came from other states.
NaSaysha Cheatham, a Nashville resident, celebrated her 30th birthday with three friends at the rodeo. “I saw it on TikTok,” she said, “and I thought, ‘well, let’s dress up and go’.”
On their visit, each of the women donned cowboy hats and knee-high boots with detailed stitching. Anjelique Hyatt, 30, noted that the friends “wanted to have our Beyoncé moment.” (The pop juggernaut, who grew up in Houston, recently won three Grammys for her “Cowboy Carter” album.)
“You see so many different variations of what it looks like to be a cowboy,” Ms. Cheatham added.
Other mega rodeos include the Calgary Stampede, Canada’s largest, and Wyoming’s Cheyenne Frontier Days, which claims to be the biggest outdoor rodeo. But Houston’s version is the Super Bowl event of contemporary country culture, held in a state that is the leading producer of cattle and beef in the United States: Texas raises more than double the number of head of cattle compared to any other state.
For participants, the annual event is serious business. Millions of dollars change hands as heifers brought in from around the world are sold, and programs highlighting specific livestock breeds, like the Open Beefmaster Show, draw spectators and participants alike.
There’s also an international wine competition, a championship contest for barbecue, and a state-fair-size carnival with roller coasters and Ferris wheels. A guinea pig competition offers awards for best fur coat, and a sprawling shopping area sells everything from handmade leather chairs to turquoise jewelry.
“It’s like choose-your-adventure,” said Jessica Garcia, 44 and a Houston resident, thumbing through the visitor’s guide as her goatskin cowboy boots were shined. She then headed off to buy a Texas praline caramel apple.
The evenings are capped off by fireworks, drone shows and concerts in a 72,200-seat stadium; this year’s performers include Reba McEntire, Journey and Post Malone.
The cheapest way in is to buy a combination ticket to the grounds, the carnival and the livestock shows ($21 per adult), but most people also want to see the showcase stadium event: a two-hour professional rodeo of roping and riding, followed by the big concert.
The rodeo riders atop the raging, bucking broncos could go home with life-changing injuries, incurred in front of tens of thousands of people. Or, they could go home with life-changing winnings (the total rodeo purse this year is $2.5 million).
Rodeo organizers have smartly worked in a pressure-release valve each evening so that audience members can catch their breath. About halfway through the events, the lights dimmed and a beautiful white horse trotted calmly from a cloud of smoke on one end of the arena, followed by her foal, who played under the spotlight; the moment acted as a grace note, lightening the brutal stakes.
The rodeo has an unfettered, unapologetic view of meat consumption — when it began in 1932, it was called the Houston Fat Stock Show. Animal activists regularly protest the event.
Proponents point to the rodeo’s ability to help people — especially children — make connections between their food, their land, their history and their culture. The birthing center is a big draw, where children can watch mother pigs nudge their newborns’ first steps; you can also watch chicks hatch, try your hand at milking a cow or learn how to plant crops.
Perhaps the most rewarding experience is an unadvertised one: the chance to speak with families who ranch and farm, and who come to the rodeo so their children can show off the rabbit, guinea pig or calf that they have been nurturing all year. Many suburban families travel to soccer tournaments, but these families travel to livestock shows.
The children who bring their animals stand to win thousands of dollars: In 2025, the rodeo will give away over $14 million in scholarships.
“Our thousands of volunteers enable us to maximize our charitable impact,” said the rodeo’s board chairman, Pat Mann Phillips. It takes more than 35,000 volunteers to pull it all off.
Houston prides itself on its food, and at the rodeo, everyone seemed to be working on a large fried turkey leg, though the variety of options is so much more.
Food vendors compete in best-dish contests, the Gold Buckle Foodie Awards. This year some winners included an “all-meat baked potato” with a pork rib garnish from Harlon’s BBQ, and a thick slab of bacon served on a stick in a cloud of cotton candy from Rousso’s Fat Bacon.
Steps away from the food stands on a recent Saturday night, a line of people — turkey legs in hand — stood to get into the mutton bustin’ tent. Audience members stomped on the metal grandstand until it sounded like a hurricane, while children who had signed up to ride the sheep waited their turn.
Eight-year-old Siya Iyer, wearing a helmet with a face cage, looked worried. “I’m a little scared,” she said, eyes nervously darting around at the roaring crowd. “I have to hold on very tight.”
After sliding off the sheep and face-planting into the dirt, she stood holding an ice pack against a swelling in her neck, her concerned parents doting on her. The next round of mutton bustin’ contestants filed into the pen, and through the crowd, Siya offered a small thumbs up.
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