 Nick and Sarah were next headed to look at diamond engagement rings in Cheyenne, Wyoming, but mostly they couldn’t wait to get to Cheyenne's Frontier Days, which is known as the “Daddy of ‘em all” in the rodeo world. Neither had ever been to a real rodeo before. Nick turned the radio on to a country/western station to put them in the right frame of mind. Although Frontier Days—and its corresponding riotously fun Frontier Nights—could keep them busy all day, every day for nine straight days, they vowed to focus a little more time on the jewelry business. Sarah researched a few diamond jewelers in Cheyenne, Wyoming on the internet in between checking out the times of the bull riding, the saddle bronc, the bareback bronc and the concerts they might want to check out. The ride to Cheyenne was another decidedly western experience. Sarah wanted to make time to go to Lost Springs, Wyoming, Population: 1, if only to take a picture of the sign, but they needed to jam in as much of the Cheyenne experience as they could before the rodeo ended. As it was, they would be arriving more than halfway through the rodeo’s run. Since the event attracted more than 30,000 tourists to Cheyenne, Sarah had made hotel reservations well in advance. This was part of the trip they planned, as neither could resist a rodeo officially called the “Daddy of ‘em all”. The hotel itself, when Sarah found it, was like hitting the country jackpot. The website of the Plains Hotel even had a country music track by Jon Chandler, whoever that is. By the time she had made reservations, she was singing along. The Jeep pulled into the parking lot of 1600 Central Ave., Cheyenne, Wyoming 82001 by late morning. They checked in, grabbed some brochures from the lobby, and headed out for “Daddy of 'em all”. They arrived at the rodeo, having to park ridiculously far away. It afforded them an opportunity to change into their most western finery. Sarah pulled herself into a pair of jeans much tighter than she would normally wear, but, being a girl, couldn’t bring herself to get rid of in case a rodeo came along. And, fortunately, one did. She also put on her cowboy boots and a red tank top. Nick wore jeans, ruggedly-worn work boots, a t-shirt, and the largest belt buckle he owned—a gift from Uncle Jake from one of the Sturgis rallies a few years before. Looking in the rear-view mirror, Sarah put on a bit of makeup. Playing with her hair, she said: “Nicky, I don’t think my hair is going to feather, and I don’t have bangs to hairspray. What if we’re scorned.” “We won’t be scorned. With those jeans on, I don’t think anyone will be looking at your hair. I’d be surprised if anyone noticed you have a head”. Nick patted her wavy brown hair reassuringly. “Now shake that thing out here and let’s go see some broncos”. The two arrived at 12:30, and the rodeo itself didn’t begin until 1. They bought tickets that would allow them to see everything and then went to find the best seats they could. They found themselves sitting only a few rows back, and very deliberately behind a couple not wearing cowboy hats. When the event began, the energy in the bleachers became electric. The announcer was exactly like the one they had heard in “Urban Cowboy”. And then came out the first man riding a bull. “He’s not riding that bull,” Sarah whispered to Nick. “He’s holding on for dear life”. And before she could even finish the sentence, the bull-rider was thrown off, landing in a heap on the ground. Then the rodeo clowns came out to distract the bull while the rider got to his feet and ran for shelter. He didn’t make his 8 seconds, so he didn’t get a score. They watched several more riders, some of whom made the 8 seconds, and some who didn’t. Nick was mostly impressed by the rodeo clowns. “’Clown’ is so the wrong name for them. Those are bullfighters,” he said to Sarah. “They’re all a bit crazy, no?” Sarah asked. “But bless their hearts. This is amazing to see. I think I shall ride the mechanical bull tonight”.
Nick laughed. “I never had a doubt about that”. Because there was so much more to see, and because they could see other events later in the day or the next day, they decided to check out what the rest of Cheyenne, Wyoming and its Frontier Days had to offer. The found the Carnival Midway, played western-themed games and ate cotton candy. Sarah found herself quite good at the game where she got to shoot at flat wooden rabbits going by. She was very pleased to win herself a mirror with George Strait painted on it. Although it was a thought she mostly kept to herself, she had found him handsome and charming in that movie he had been in with Lesley Ann Warren. She was even more excited to be able to watch him live in Cheyenne that night. Before the concert, Sarah bought herself a genuine Shady Brady cowboy hat and a black George Strait t-shirt. She had learned hoots and catcalls from a redneck cousin from Maine, so she was able to participate in the concert revelry with the crowd. Nick and Sarah shared a few beers during the concert, then headed off to the famous “Buckin' A Saloon” at the end of the Midway. They were drinking bottled American beer (as they thought they should) and talking when a few real-looking cowboys came to the bar, seemingly with an entourage. Nick and Sarah appeared unimpressed, mostly because they had no idea who either man was. The two men were laughing and looking at Sarah. She raised an eyebrow. “What are you lookin' at?” She asked, loud enough to be heard over the music. “Y'ain't from here, are you?” One responded. “What gave it away?” She smiled. “The un-teased hair, my lack of blue eyeshadow, my inability to boot-scoot boogie, maybe?” She was playing up stereotypes to get a rise out of them. Nick watched carefully. “Naaah...”, and the men looked down. “It's because I don't know who you are”. Sarah said. Neither man responded, but it was true. Nick called the bartender over, and found out that one of the men had won a bucking bronco contest and was very well known in those circles. “Sorry”, Sarah told them. “We're New Yorkers, just here for the show. It's impressive”. After hearing that Nick and Sarah were from New York, they were bought shots and hurried into the truck of one of the men, who said they hadn't had the full Western experience. It didn't seem as dangerous or stupid as it would if they told their parents, so they went. “Where are we going again?” Sarah asked. They ended up at the legendary Cowboy South Saloon, Cheyenne, Wyoming, 82007. As they walked in, Sarah felt like she was walking into the bar from “Urban Cowboy”. She gasped and grabbed Nick's arm. “Nicky, look!” and she pointed. It was a mechanical bull. And one of the most fun nights they'd ever had, courtesy of a man they didn't know. Bless his golden western, bull-riding heart.
The next day, shaking a little bit of hay out of her hair and feeling like she was still on that bull, she squinted at her boyfriend. “Back to business today, baby,” she told him. With hair like Edward Scissorhands, Nick stood up and walked to the mirror. “First, I feel like I need to shave my tongue”. After showering and taking their best business clothes out of a hanging suitcase, they got ready to go look at the prices of engagement rings in Cheyenne, Wyoming, 82001. This was the heart of downtown, and, presumably, the most expensive jewelry store. They walked in, looking quite put-together after several cups of coffee and a few aspirin. A salesperson came over and asked how she could help. “We'd like to see some engagement rings,” Nick said. “Princess-cut, maybe sidestone settings.” He wanted her to know he was not new to this game. “Certainly, sir. We have some beautiful choices. You and your intended can have a seat,” she indicated a Victorian-looking loveseat in front of a table. After arranging a display for Nick and Sarah, she began to extol the virtues of each ring. “Can we choose our own sidestones?” Sarah asked. “Of course, for a small fee,” the woman responded. “And the diamond itself, I get to pick that, right?” Sarah kept at her. “Most of our rings are pre-set,” the woman explained, squirming a bit. “But you can have any diamond specially-set for a minimal charge”. Sarah's eyebrow nearly hit the ceiling. “And these special orders take how long?” “A custom ring takes up to four-to-six weeks for delivery, as our jeweler hand-works each piece”, the woman explained. “The designer is in-house?” Sarah asked. “Well, no. The design is sent to one of our affiliates, depending on the style you choose”. Sarah nodded. She looked at the display of gorgeous diamond rings in front of her. She slapped her hands against her thighs. “Good to know”, she said as she stood up. “You have lovely things, but I need to think about it.” Thanking the woman for her time, the two walked arm-in-arm out of the store. Nick put his arm around Sarah and kisses her on the top of her head. “You're hot when you're all business like that. You hit that place like a tornado”. “Yeah, yeah,” Sarah said. “What's that get me?” Nick smiled as they got into the Jeep. When he got on I-80 going the wrong way, Sarah protested. Nick told her to trust him, that he had a surprise. Sarah understood when, 20 minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Bath Chaps and Leather. She was getting her leather chaps after all. “A present for both of is in a way, I assume”, she said. “Yes, ma'am”, Nick responded, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat.
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