Fannie Sperry Made the Ride of Her Life

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The relentless rain pelted man and beast in a soak-to-the-bone downpour. The cowboys, clad in slickers, corralled the wild bulls and broncs into holding pens at one end of Victoria Park’s newly constructed arena in the Canadian frontier town of Calgary, Alberta. The ‘First Calgary Stampede 1912,’ in the planning stages for several years, was finally becoming a reality. Guy Weadick, the event promoter, had invited only the top cowboys and cowgirls from the United States and Canada. He lured them with the promise of a $1,000 winning purse.

One of the invited participants, a 25-year-old cowgirl from Mitchell, Mont., seemed not to notice the rivulets of water streaming from the crease in her beaver-felt hat. The rain did not dampen her excitement. Fannie Sperry stood beside her mother, Rachel, as they became caught up in the swirl of the day-before-the-show activities.

The next day, spectators lined the streets of downtown Calgary. Everyone hoped for clear skies as the six-mile-long Wild West procession paraded by. Six Indian tribes modeled exquisitely beaded ceremonial dress and rode their finest horses. Men in authentic working cowboy gear twirled six-guns and ropes. Red-coated Canadian Mounties, Old Mexico vaqueros, stagecoaches, chuck wagons, Hudson’s Bay Company trappers, whiskey traders, missionaries, and fancy-bred horses passed in revue. The parade route continued inside the Victoria Park arena, where the procession wound ’round and ’round into a tight circle. The crowd filled the bleachers.

The five-day rodeo extravaganza, to be held regardless of the weather, began in a flurry of colors and activities. The gathering thunderclouds burst open, however, and the first day’s activities ended in a bust. Fannie Sperry’s horse came out of the shoot, hopped a bit, and then–as if stuck in the quagmire of mud in the arena–stopped. A very disappointed Sperry walked away from the animal, squishing through the mud with despondent step, back to the corrals. Her heavy, ankle-length divided riding skirt was saturated with the muck. ‘Tomorrow has to be better,’ she told her mother.

The next morning Sperry drew a notoriously wild bronc named Nett. He jumped and bucked, giving her a chance to show off her riding skills. The crowd whistled and cheered as they watched the blue-eyed, 122-pound slip of a girl spur her horse, riding him to a standstill. Sperry knew she’d done well, but so had the other cowgirls. Goldie St. Clair, for example, had better draws, and the audiences loved her. Only something spectacular would give Sperry the winning edge. Her final draw would have to be a crowd-favored bronc.

‘LAAAIDEEES AND GENNTLLEMENN…,’ reverberated from the announcer’s megaphone on the last day of the week-long stampede. The announcer told the crowd that the final women’s bronc ride of the day was about to begin. When he said that Fannie Sperry from Montana would ride Red Wing, a collective gasp rose from the crowd, followed by a tense silence. Sperry had drawn one of the biggest, meanest buckers in the circuit’s string of wild horses. Just four days before, in the holding pens, the outlaw bronc had unseated cowboy Joe LaMar and stomped him to death.

Drawing such an attention-getter was a lucky break; it would add points to her ride. Of course, she had to do her part, too. She was confident it was going to be her day. Even the five-day downpour had stopped, and the warm sun had dried up some of the mud. Sperry straddled the top rung of the shotgun row of chutes. Red Wing thrashed about in the tight quarters. He reared, his glazed eyes showing hatred. The men working the gates were anxious. They waited for a signal from the young rider.

‘AND FRROMM SHOOOT NUMMBERRR…,’ boomed the announcer. That was all Sperry heard. She dropped into the saddle, all the while talking to the horse. She tried to stroke his mane. Then she positioned her boots into the stirrups. ‘OK, Red Wing, let’s make a name for both of us,’ she crooned. To the gatekeeper she shouted, ‘Let ‘er buck!’

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Tags: Historical Figures, People, The Wild West, Wild West, Women's History

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