What's so Great about Cowboy Mounted Shooting?
If you're a fan of the old cowboy ways, a lot.
by Lisa Broadwater

Used to be, when I wanted to revisit the Old West, I watched a John Wayne movie. Now I go to a Cowboy Mounted Shooters Association competition. And trust me, if you're a fan of the old cowboy ways and have never been to a CMSA event, you're missing out. It's some serious fun.
My favorite description of mounted shooting comes from Larry Nokes, last year's CMSA of Arkansas president: "It's sort of a combination of barrel racing and pole bending with a little Wild West show thrown in."
Here's how it works: A rider dressed in late-1800s clothing races through a predetermined pattern that incorporates barrels and poles while firing .45-pistols loaded with blanks at a series of balloon targets (usually there are 10 balloons: five of one color located along a looping pattern; five of another color located along the exit straightaway, or "rundown," as it's known). During a competition, a horse and rider will be scored on how well they navigate somewhere between four and six patterns (or "stages"), chosen at random from about 50 patterns sanctioned by the national CMSA organization.
When running a stage, "You carry two guns," explains J.R. Barnett, who helped found the Arkansas chapter of CMSA; "and you can start with a gun in your hand, but you have to holster it on either your saddle or your person. You can't stick it in your belt; it has to go in a legitimate-looking holster. Then, after the first five shots, you draw your other gun; and you can quit with a gun in your hand. So you've done all of the functions that a cowboy might do."
And you do in 30 seconds or less, if all goes well.
The cowboy aspect was what drew Barnett to mounted shooting.
"For 68 years, I've been tryin' to be a cowboy," says Barnett (who, for the past 20 years, has owned a tack and Western wear store just north of Conway, J.R.'s Hobby Horse). "Of course, Roy [Rogers] and Gene [Autry] and the foreman on my grandfather's ranch were my heroes. A lot of us guys want to play cowboy," he adds, "and this is a natural for that."
Barnett learned about the sport from his friend Dewayne Matthews [whom many people know of through his affiliation with the National Championship Chuckwagon Races in Clinton] .
"The next thing you know, I'm wearing his pistols, and then I had to start playing," Barnett recalls. "I'm actually a team roper [he's been competing since the '70s] — that's what I love. But this is so much fun, I do it too."
Back when Barnett and Matthews started the local chapter, "It was a new sport," Barnett says, "about eight or 10 years old, out west and in mid-America. It's a fun sport, and it's a horse-ridin' sport. You can take a saddle horse or a Quarter horse and do nicely. I ride my ropin' horse, and he's better at that because he's calm. This is a race; this nerves him up more. He's a little high-strung for this."
CMSA members compete in five levels — from 1 through 5, in Men's, Ladies and Senior divisions. There's also a Wrangler division for kids up to age 12. Wranglers ride the same patterns as the grown-ups, but they shoot cap pistols at each target. Then, in between rounds, they test their shooting skills — using .45s with blanks — on the ground, with Mom or Dad at their side. (By the way, no live ammunition is allowed anywhere on the grounds at a CMSA event.)

The Real Draw
What I'd really like to do at this point is explain what it feels like to participate in a CMSA event. Riding a pattern flat-out while aiming a six-shooter at a target when dressed like Annie Oakley is exactly the kind of adventure I'm usually game to tackle. Alas, last fall I ruptured a disc in my neck, which put a halt to my riding (for now, anyway). So providing a firsthand account was out of the question.
The thing is, even as a spectator, mounted shooting has much to recommend. Sitting at an old wooden picnic table at Hurley's Arena talkin' horses while surrounded by nothing but folks sporting old-timey Western shirts, gun cuffs, neckerchiefs, suspenders, chaps, well-broke-in cowboy hats and holstered six-shooters — as the sound of gunfire fills the air — is more than a little surreal.
Actually, what I really like about the Arkansas CMSA chapter is the people in it. Just about everyone I met is a fascinating character — and not just because they dress in period costume whenever they compete.
Perhaps none is more colorful than chapter president Erven Duch (fittingly, that's pronounced "Duke"). Sixty-five-year-old Duch has rodeoed most of his life — he rode bulls until he was 50 (and managed to stay in the state's top 10) and is still a team roper. At one time or another, Duch has been a rice farmer, a crop duster, a cattle rancher and a Thoroughbred racetrack farrier (he's still shoeing). He's got a wicked sense of humor, a barrelful of stories I bet you can't top (many of which are even true) and knows as much about riding as just about anybody.
Duch found out about CMSA from J.R. Barnett, one of his roping buddies. He admits that compared to bull riding, "It's a little dull, but I like to ride and I like to shoot."
I was surprised to learn that a number of CMSA members share that passion for roping. Like Duch, Brian Brock found out about the sport from his fellow ropers.
"Some of my buddies was ropin,' " he recalls, "and they said, 'You need to come try this.' So I went down and shot one pattern and missed one balloon. And I said, 'Let me try that one more time.' I shot another pattern and hit them all and said, 'Okay, where do you get these guns at?' And it went from there — that was it."
Mounted shooting is similar to roping, Brock says: "It's an adrenaline rush. And it's as much fun as roping."
The secret to mastering the sport, he says: "You've got to have a horse that has a good hand on him — that's fast enough to run the patterns and has enough sense not to lose his cool when the shooting starts."
Of course, not everyone in CMSA has been riding and/or roping their entire lives. When Larry Nokes started mounted shooting in 2000, he hadn't been on a horse since he was in high school.
"And if you haven't been on a horse in 20 years," he says, "it's a little scary doing it in front of a bunch of people. Some of these guys make this look easy, and it's not."
Nokes obviously took to the sport, however — he's a Level 5 shooter. In 2002, he finished eighth in his division at the CMSA Nationals in St. Louis and finished eighth overall for the year.
Not that he takes all the credit for the accomplishment himself (although he admits he was a pretty good shot when he started).
"I had a good horse," he says. "Folks can tell you anything they want to; the horse is at least 80 percent of this sport. The horse I had was a barrel racer. She was 16 when we started doing this, and she took to it from the very start."
Brian Brock and his wife, Tina, have been members for five years. Their 8-year-old son, Preston, has been participating in the Wrangler division for four years.
"When I started, I had only shot a pistol at cans," Tina says. "This was the first time I'd ever had a gun in my hand — let alone a gun and a horse. And I'm still Ladies Level 1 — but it's fun."
She too is drawn to the adrenaline rush of mounted shooting — "the quick change of everything," she says, "It's a speed event, a timed event. And I just like being around horses."
Another reason Brian joined the association was to teach Preston the old cowboy ways.
"I grew up on horses, and my boy has been riding ever since he was 2 years old," Brian explains. Now, "Preston takes care of his horse. He saddles him, unsaddles him, brushes him. He's learned a lot. That's him over there roping," Brian adds, pointing to Preston, who's impatiently waiting his turn by practicing his roping skills on a dummy calf.
For many CMSA members, that focus on family is key. For example, James Luman attends a shoot just about every weekend, with his wife, Bev, and their 3-year-old son, JW, who also compete.
"If it's within eight hours, I go," he says.
But, he adds, "If my family didn't come and enjoy it, I wouldn't go. They are my priority. I caught myself last year putting this as a priority. Then I reminded myself, 'This is a game that you play.' That's when we started hauling my son's horse. Now I ride around with my wife and son.
"If this wasn't a family-oriented thing and the association treated JW like 'We don't have time for you,' then I wouldn't do this. But they love him. He puts on his little shooter's cuffs, bandana, chaps and holsters and the whole bit."
Before discovering mounted shooting, James says, "We tried team penning. When we first started, we were in a club and you could go spend $100, and the whole family could have a good time. Then it got to where you couldn't even do that with one person. Prices have gone up so much.
"So we got into this. One good thing is that you compete by yourself; you don't have to have a partner. Also, you can go into this and be very, very competitive if you want or you can go in and have fun if you want. Because everybody starts at entry level, and you can stay at the level if you choose; you don't have to compete against the hot-rods if you don't want to. Or if you really get competitive, you move on up to where the people who are in it just for fun don't have to compete against you."
James, who's 44, has been rodeoing since he was about 6. Not that long ago, he says, "I was burned out with all of it. But this rejuvenates me in wanting to ride."
Mounted shooting, he says, is as challenging as rodeoing.
"But it's a lot more fun," he adds. "It's a lot like rough-stock riding. You're competing against the time and the score. On the other hand, you're not being judged, because it's a timed event. And I like that aspect of it.
"The challenge is to hit the shots, of course. And as you get going faster, you can make it as challenging as you want. My wife says her goal is to not finish last; me, I want on the cover of the paper."
"I'm not quite as driven as James," Bev Luman adds. "I want to do well, but I don't aspire to be the fastest rider out there. I like being there with the other folks and being at an event where I can compete, my husband can compete and my son can compete, and we can do it as a family and still have fun."
"That is what the sport is all about," says Nora Porter, a former police officer whose husband, Thomas, also competes. "There's a lot of family in CMSA. Lots of times you'll see husbands and wives out here; mothers, fathers. In fact, at the world competition in November, JW [Luman] prayed at our cowboy church."


It's All About the Horse
So is mounted shooting a difficult sport?
"As horse sports go, no," Barnett says. "It's kind of a gun sport, but to me it's more of a horse-maneuvering sport. If I can make my horse get within five feet of every balloon every time, I'll rarely miss. I can speed up and still do well, if he'll stay within five feet."
"The higher you go, the more important the horse," James Luman says. "Just starting out, you need a nice steady horse that handles good — by that, I mean goes where you point him. Because you can't be out there concentrating on hitting your target AND concentrating on yanking and tugging your horse around. So you want to have a horse that is at least calm and allows you to shoot off him.
"Speed doesn't start to make a difference on a horse until you get to Level 3," he adds. "Because the 3's, 4's and 5's can shoot, or they wouldn't have made it to that level. Then it's fast, and you've got to start flyin', especially in the 4's and 5's."
When it comes to training a horse for mounted shooting, the difficulty depends on the horse, Bev Luman says. She and James used the practical approach to deciding which one of their herd to teach.
"James went out and shot a gun, and the horse that didn't leave is the one that got started on," she says. "And it didn't take him long at all. But getting them used to balloons blowing up in their face is a little challenging. For one of our horses, it took about six to eight weeks, but it took a full year for another one. He didn't like the sound of gunfire. So we started out shooting capguns while he ate and worked up to regular guns. He's great at it now, though; I ride him. But horses are just like people: Some have an aptitude for it, and some don't."
Training his horse was "harder than I thought it would be," Nokes says. "I've seen more horses react badly to the smoke than the sound — it's something comin' at 'em, and they don't like stuff comin' at 'em. But the faster you keep 'em movin', the less chance they've got to think about, 'What was that loud noise?' "
To acclimate his horse to the noise, Nokes says, "I took her to shoots, and I would set balloons [for the competition] riding her. The first match or two, every time someone would shoot, she'd jump. After that, she calmed down. She got to where I think she enjoyed it as much as I did."
The toughest aspect of mounted shooting?
"When it's not your turn," Nokes says with a smile.

The Future of Mounted Shooting
These days, the sport is growing — more than 5,000 mounted shooters belong to 135 clubs in 47 states — as is the level of competition.
"In 2000, when I started doing this, you could miss two balloons and still win," Nokes says. "But the level of competition has gotten to where now if you miss a balloon and everybody else is not missing, you're not going to win."
However, "The sport hasn't grown as much in Arkansas as I'd like to see it grow," Nokes adds. "But so many of the guys in Arkansas are roping, where they can make a lot of money. And this isn't a money sport yet. It's gettin' better, but it's not a big money-maker."
Not yet, anyway. Nokes says he does see a day, though, when the sport is a high-dollar event. He points to another association called the Mounted Shooters of America, which focuses not on the Old West aspect (costumes aren't required) but on the payout at the end of the day.
"It's a newer organization, and they're trying to get money into it," Nora Porter adds. "Most of us do it because it's fun. MSA tends to be more rodeo-type clothing. And you move up faster with them. In CMSA, to move up from Level 1 to 2, you have to win two shoots and you have to have at least three people in your group. To go from 2-3, you have to have three wins and at least three people. To go from 3-4, you have to have four wins and four people in your group."
There's no question that many people involved in the CMSA enjoy the Western aspect of the organization.
"I get into it," James Luman says. "We go out to eat in costume and the whole bit. Man, you're playin' — it's a big game."
"But the biggest thing about CMSA to me is the people," says Larry Nokes. "If you go to, say, a barrel race and your horse throws a shoe or something, they're gonna go, 'You're not gonna do very good.' But if you come to one of these shoots and your horse comes up lame or your gun breaks, somebody'll loan you a horse and somebody'll say, 'Here, use my guns.' And they won't just loan you a horse you can shoot off of; they'll bring you a horse that you can beat them on. And they'll be as tickled as anybody else when you do."
"I give the top shooters a lot of credit for how well I've been able to do," James Luman says. "They've shared a lot of their tricks of the trade and information with me. They'll come out and say, 'This is the best way to shoot that pattern.' Several have really helped me — with everything from how to retool to gun to make it easier to cock and shoot to tricks on training horses, just everything."
Most importantly, many CMSA members say, they have fun.
"We have a ball," Nokes says. "I've been doing this since 2000, and I've met one guy I didn't like. And I wouldn't have liked him no matter what we were doin'. That guy would've been a jerk if we were barrel racing or team roping or whatever.
"Of course, I'm not the most likable guy either."
He says that donning a broad smile. I don't believe him for a second.