Madeline Curr visits the Mount Isa Mines Rodeo and remembers why the Outback is in her blood

With a new Mediterranean glow — or a tan, might I say —and a double espresso in hand, I sleepily wandered through the Brisbane International Airport searching for my beautiful mother who had come to pick me up. It’s a family joke that I’m almost 25 and my mum is still collecting me from airports or bus stops. Even after all these years of my world travels (because I’m just so old), she never seems to get tired of it. I’d say it gives Mum the excuse to get to the city every once in a blue moon.

As soon as we got home I unpacked my swimwear and poolside summer dresses, replacing them with cowboy boots and jeans. I tried my best to sleep off my jetlag, but before I knew it, it was time to head back to Brisvegas airport. Racing out the door with two cowboy hats balancing on my head, there was no time to spare, for Mount Isa Mines Rodeo was about to begin!

I walk past a flight gate with a raft of cowboy hats and belt buckles and think, “I’m home.” A gate attendant calls “Mount Isa” over the intercom and we load up. I discover I’ve been seated next to the Shank Brothers, hilarious barbecue legends who were also flying up for the rodeo. Between excited giggles and deep discussions about all things meat, we were basically sitting on the edges of our seats, ready for the four days of rodeo fun that was about to hit us.

We eventually decide to save our excitement and energy, because the next few days will be work days, too: we can’t forget that. For the rest of the flight I keep myself entertained by looking out the window. Ah, there she is: Mount Isa. As we land I can see the famous mine, smack-bang in the middle of town, and I notice that the colour of the earth is always much deeper up here.

Though this isn’t my first rodeo (no pun intended) — nor my first Mount Isa Mines Rodeo — I was on edge about whether I would be able to jump headfirst back into the cowgirl lifestyle that I’d briefly left behind. My job for the next few days was to get as much content for social media as possible, so this meant lots of sweet talk to stern, shy cowboys and cowgirls who want nothing to do with my camera, my brother among them.

When we arrive at the rodeo, it’s almost 6pm and things are starting to get busy. Word on the street is that Jessica Mauboy is playing. I glance briefly over the rodeo grounds and wonder how it’s even possible for an event space to have such a spectacular backdrop. I watch dusty, injured cowboys hop past me with that same old swagger I know and love. I used to play a guessing game of which cowboy did what rodeo event just by looking at his hat, and I think I’ve still got that party trick down pat.

Time is already of the essence as day two approaches, so I make a very important note in my head: must try all food trucks — if I have the time, of course. The grandstand seats are starting to fill and I can’t help but notice what a diverse mix the crowd is, like no other Outback town. From old caravaners exploring the bush, to locals who have lived here all their lives and cowboys and cowgirls who have travelled far and wide just to get a glimpse of the winning buckles and cash.