When Jacob Moorhead runs his horse around a barrel and heads for the next, he
hardly has time to breathe, much less think. A 17-year-old from Beech Island,
S.C., Moorhead is one of a growing number of horse enthusiasts with a passion
for the wildly popular, grit-your-teeth rodeo sport of barrel racing.
"It's like nothing else," says Moorhead, who runs in local and regional shows
when he isn't in school. "I've never really been able to think about it when I
run. You feel like you've been holding your breath the whole run. It's just so
exhilarating; it really gets your heart going more than anything else I've ever
done before."
Over the past two decades, barrel racing has galloped into the mainstream.
Championship races are broadcast on television. A host of magazines and web
sites cater strictly to barrel race enthusiasts. There are more barrel racing
organizations than you can shake a stick at. And most every weekend amateur
events are held at barns, fields and fairgrounds from California to Canada to
the Carolinas—even in places like New Jersey and Long Island, N.Y.
What began as a sideline show for women at rodeos now attracts men, women and
children of all ages, sizes and skill levels. While a select few compete
professionally, many others run for fun, for the excitement and sometimes for a
little prize money.
Becky Sickel is a bank branch manager from Killeen, Texas, and has been a barrel
racer for 30 years. Her largest winnings were $784.36 for placing third at a
2002 Waco, Texas, barrel race. "I just love the competition because it's you and
your horse together," Sickel says. "People like myself who don't have a $100,000
horse can still compete and win some very good money in the type of competitions
that are available now."
Recreational barrel racing bolted out the gate as more and more people have come
to own, raise and ride horses. The attraction, riders say, is in the excitement
of running barrels for fun. And as the sport has grown, finding a local weekend
barrel race is about as easy as finding a flea market.
"Barrel racing is an easy thing to get into," says Sherry Fulmer, executive
director of the 23,000-member National Barrel Horse Association. "With other
horse-related sports like cutting, you have to have cattle. With barrel racing,
basically anybody who's got three trash cans and a horse with a lot of spirit in
it can practice at home."
Founded in Augusta, Ga., in 1992, the NBHA is the sport's largest governing body
with divisions in every U.S. state, Canada, Europe and South America. The NBHA
sanctions 4,000 events annually and holds 12 major championships. The
organization also pioneered the divisional format, which brackets riders based
on qualifying times and offers equal payouts for winners in youth, open and
senior sectionals. The advent of the divisional format is generally regarded as
opening up competitive barrel racing to the masses.
Barrel racing runs are wide-open, zigzag sprints in a cloverleaf pattern around
three barrels in a triangular arrangement. Most riders race American Quarter
horses, though some also ride Appaloosas and Paints. Winning times range between
13 and 19 seconds, recorded electronically to the thousandth. Riders race the
clock rather than each other, and there are no judges for style.
"Some horse sports require more muscle than others, but barrel racing doesn't,"
NBHA's Fulmer says. "It's really about being in tune with your horse and having
that oneness that allows the fluid run. So anybody—man, woman, child—there's a
place for everybody in barrel racing. It's the ultimate family sport."
And just as auto racing has grown thanks to corporate sponsorship, barrel racing
is seeing a similar progression. Today's payouts for professional barrel racers
rival those of pro bull riders.
A range of companies such as John Deere, Nutrena feeds and Wrangler often
sponsor both pro and amateur races. With sponsor contributions, even weekend
barrel racers have a shot at taking home pricey horse trailers and thousands of
dollars in prize money.
While much has changed in the ever-expanding sport, veteran riders like Becky
Sickel have rolled with the changes. "The junior rodeos I used to compete in
back in the 1970s didn't even have electronic timers," she says.
"It was literally a flagman at the start and somebody upstairs with a stopwatch.
And you didn't really compete for money. It was more like a buckle or a saddle
if it was a real big competition."
They still award buckles and saddles today, along with the cash, but the real
prize for barrel racers remains in the ride.