PIKES PEAK RANGE RIDERS CELEBRATE 60 YEARS OF SADDLIN’ UP

June 23, 2008 - 9:47PM

BY RINA PALTA

THE GAZETTE

On any given afternoon, you're not likely to walk by City Hall and spy two horses munching on a wellcoifed front lawn. At least not since the city was a hamlet of a few thousand people and the mayor rode to work in a buggy.

But when June comes around, so do the Pikes Peak Range Riders, and life turns a bit old school.

The hungry horses that appeared recently were just a taste of what's to come. The Range Riders had woven their steeds through downtown traffic to officially invite the mayor to their upcoming annual street breakfast. Early Wednesday morning, about 170 men on horseback - after throwing back pancakes, eggs and coffee with local residents - will gallop down Pikes Peak Avenue, embarking on a fiveday jaunt around Pikes Peak - the 60th anniversary of the Range Riders' first such ride.

As the Range Riders geared up for their diamond anniversary, a few took the time to reflect on their long-standing institution.

"It's about outdoors, horses, companionship," said Terry Theken, a 14-year member and this year's ride director. "It's a way of life that we'd like to preserve, that makes us different from people back East."

For some, there's a sense that the Pikes Peak or Bust Rodeo, with the Range Riders as its protector, is one of the last bastions of living Western culture in the town.

"If you went down the roster of the Range Riders, they are truly the business leaders, civic leaders in the Pikes Peak region," said Mayor Lionel Rivera, who will join the breakfast but not the ride. "As they did 60 years ago, they maintain the Western heritage of the city. Without them, there would be no rodeo."

Indeed, the idea of riding clubs belongs to the West, starting with the Rancheros Visitadores in Santa Barbara, Calif., in 1930. The club is said to have come out of a cowboy tradition: After branding cattle, cowboys would join up for a party to celebrate a job well done. Imitating this spirit, the Rancheros Visitadores gained widespread fame in the 1930s and '40s, and soon other clubs such as the Roundup Riders of the Rockies in the Denver area popped up. In 1949, two Colorado Springs men, Everett Conover and Kenneth Brookhart, were discussing a friend who had recently returned from a trip with the Rancheros Vistadores, when it occurred to them:

"Why not us?" Conover wrote in his 1982 book "Pikes Peak Range Riders." "Why shouldn't we put together a ride ... a ride around Pikes Peak ... to promote the rodeo?"

The idea was to visit outlying towns in the Pikes Peak region, spreading enthusiasm for the then-fledgling Pikes Peak or Bust Rodeo. Since its inception, the rodeo has donated its proceeds to military charities for Fort Carson soldiers.

One hundred people showed up to send off the 40 men who made the first ride. The next year the riders drew up a group charter and an exclusive institution was born - a men's riding group consisting of the city's most elite politicians, businessmen and ranchers. The rest is a history of steep, rocky trails, campfires, favorite horses, sore bottoms, and of course, pranks.

"Well, there was this one time when a couple of guys got a bunch of alarm clocks," said Range Riders President Verne Bixler. The man set the alarm clocks for predawn and threw them on top of a tent some men were sleeping in. When the alarms went off in the early hours, "you couldn't get them off the top!" Bixler said. "They had to take down the tent in the middle of the night."

Other riders speak to the equalizing nature of the ride.

"We're all in Western gear," said Range Rider Dick Janitell, a member since 1978. "The guy riding next to you could be a plumber or a neurosurgeon, doesn't matter. We're all cowboys."

And for many, it's the charity. The Pikes Peak or Bust Rodeo, now in its 68th year, benefits local military charities, and the Pikes Peak Range Riders Foundation runs the Pikes Peak Therapeutic Riding Center for people with disabilities, and the Latigo Trails Heritage Center.

But the Range Riders have encountered some bumps along the trail. The Range Riders style of living history celebrates a time before women joined board rooms. The tradition of inviting mayors to join the ride took a skip in 1997, which also happened to be the year when the city had its first and only female mayor: Mary Lou Makepeace. Controversy ensued.

That same year, the riders refused to have water delivered from Fort Carson when they learned female soldiers would make up part of the delivery unit.

The Range Riders insist that their men-only policy is a logistical matter.

"The biggest issue is we don't have bathrooms; our facilities are a big tent with plywood bleachers," Dick Janitell said. "Plus, there's a reason you see our wives lined up on Wednesday morning, smiling and waving. They're glad to get rid of us deadbeats for a few days."

Since 1997, the controversy has largely died down.

"They are certainly a force to be reckoned with," said Stephannie Finley, president of the Governmental Affairs and Public Policy Division of the Chamber of Commerce. "They're very influential and a lot of friendships come out of that group. A lot comes from that."

But, said Finely, exclusion "doesn't bother me personally. Boys will be boys and I don't really want to be there." A better question, she said, would be "how could women do the same thing? How can we have the same effectiveness?"

Makepeace, who's now executive director of the Gay and Lesbian Fund of Colorado, said she thinks there's more to gender exclusion than simply "boys will be boys."

"It's a reflection of our community in many ways," she said. "Women still have not been fully recognized for our leadership roles in Colorado Springs. ... It's probably not critical that women be a part of the (Range Riders) organization, but I know that women appreciate the rodeo, too."

The Range Riders have begun inviting some women to their VIP dinner, and this year, the Range Riders' wives will join in the full Friday camp day activities for the first time.

The group has seen other changes as well.

"It's getting old; we're having trouble recruiting young people," Janitell said of the Range Riders. A third-generation Colorado resident and son of a liquor-store owner who supplied libations for the rides, Janitell grew up around the Range Riders and looked up to the group.

"It used to be quite the deal. Now we're a blip on the scale," he said of the ride.

Back when the city was home to a few thousand residents, "the rodeo was the biggest event of the year, everyone was involved," Janitell said. He said the town would virtually shut down.

"I'm not anti-growth. I even used to make money through development," he said. "But when you get a big, diverse population, you lose local flavor and local culture, the traditions the town had. That's just the ebb and flow of things."

But the annual street breakfast provides Janitell with some hope for the future of Western heritage in the town.

"It's fun to see little kids come around, looking at the horses, call them over, put them up on the horse," he said. "You can't beat the smile on their faces."