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I admit, this started out as a conversation where Katherine Hoppe (My incredible host in Coos Bay, Oregon) said to her friend Julie Miller (My incredible host in Bandon, Oregon) over dinner (I had Elk Burger… a mini-adventure, trying something new), “So… what kind of an idiot would get involved in this thing called Bull Poker?” and she described it a little….. So, I raise my hand, and say “Gosh! That sounds like fun!” Yet, when I decided to do it, I thought it’d be a great adventure…. something rare enough, to where I never hear of it… a rush that’s cheaper than flying to Spain, and a new experience to share with you, dear reader. I assure you that this was one of those things that I didn’t tell Mom & Dad until after I lived through it.
It turns out that my new buddy Marc Dryden knew the people that could make sure I would get to be one of the few people who do this. Now I had a week to think.
Do I even want to do this?
I googled “Bull Poker” and saw this video:
Hmmmm… all of a sudden, this doesn’t look so great… I mean, it looks fun, an I’m probably tougher than that whimp… yeah… that’s it! I can punch the bull in the face, or break a chair on its head… maybe I can roll out of the way? Maybe it will be fun to be launched 20 feet in the air. Or.. maybe this could get me killed. Or… maybe it will hospitalize me, and since this is on the 30th of May, an I’m supposed to couchsurf with Tony Hsieh of Zappos.com on the 1st of June, and will have a 16 hour drive to get to him…. it may be a bad idea (punctuality is important to me). I mean… being hospitalized doesn’t leave me much time.
To top it off, most my friends agreed that this is a dumb idea. I was not sure if I wanted to do it.
Finally, I decided that I should do it! It’s unique, it’s entertaining, and I thought I’d have fun. So… after dropping off a visitor that had come to couch surf with me at Crater Lake (that’s another post- it is a gorgeous area!) at the airport, I drove straight to Myrtle Point, where the event was going to be.
I picked up a hitch hiker on the way, and we chatted for about 80 miles, then I left him on the next road he needed to hit.
Myrtle Point was small. It was very easy to find the fairgrounds, an it was only 3pm, so I figured it’d be a good time to register. Wayme (the guy I was supposed to speak with to register) was not in yet. I asked if I could meet my bull.
He was pissed off, but kind of cute.
I was then permitted to go into the other cage, and pet a bull.I was warned against some of the bulls, and I thought they were kind of cute. Muscular and weighing enough to squash me, were reasons enough to get the heck out of the way when they walked near. I had already driven here… I’d be back at 5:30 for registration.
Some time was killed at the library (free wi-fi), the grocery store (Fried chicken, and a delicious Ben & Jerries flavor with raspberry, chocolate chips, etc), and searching for a decent coffee shop. I made it back, signed up, ate, and waited (oh yeah… I killed some time exploring the Logging Museum). I caught some good seats in the bleachers, and began to freeze. I so quickly had forgotten how cold it gets near the coast. I was thrilled when Julie and Kat let me know that they would arrive to watch me get bull-murdered! This meant I’d have a videographer I know, yay!
Rather than bore you with the details, I’ll leave you with a video. If you’re bored, you can fast forward 5 minutes, and get the action… I recommend listening to the liability waiver! It’s so amusing, and fairly accurate.
I didn’t particularly feel scared. I had envisioned this going well. The fee was $50. The last person out of their seat gets the money. If you get hit by the bull, you’re out. If you get knocked down, you’re out. They didn’t want people doing the stuff I imagined I could do. The way it worked, they had us put on foam vests, pick a seat, and wait. I actually got to shuffle and deal the cards. The bull was released into the arena. I watched as it quickly came up to us, rammed the guy directly in front of me, and threw him into the table and me. The table was splintered. My chair was splintered, and I was out, as the flying dude broke my chair. My knee hurt from the impact. Oh well, I didn’t win… time to get the heck out of the way! We had to go to the fences, and climb when the bull came near bye. This happened twice, then we were allowed out of the arena. After that, I drove through the night and next day to Las Vegas.
I di
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