Skip to main content
eric duhatschek

Dave Bensmiller, of Dewberry, Alta., (right) and Terry Buffalo, of Hobbema, Alta., (rear) head out of the infield during heat one at the Klondike Chuckwagon Derby at Northlands Park in Edmonton on Sunday July 25, 2004. (CP PHOTO/ Darryl Dyck)Darryl Dyck/The Canadian Press

Having just moved into second place overall with a blazing run in seventh heat, Buddy Bensmiller apologizes for being pulled in different directions. His horses needed cooling down and on this night, there had been a sad complication. His son, Kurt, has just lost a horse off his WestJet team in the fifth heat of the nightly Rangeland Derby.



In chuckwagon racing, dubbed the "half mile of hell," risk is part of the game.



Eight years ago Bensmiller crashed horrendously and needed 30 screws and two plates inserted in his body during surgery.



"That slowed me down a lot," said Bensmiller, who turned 55 on Friday. "I hurt all the time. The worst part is, the whole family's doing it. Most guys quit to go with their families. Well, my family does this. I have grandkids involved in the horse-part really big."



The sport is NASCAR on hoofs in that the crowds are lured in part by the potential of a crash, but more so because it's pursued by regional families from one generation to the next - the southern United States for NASCAR, Western Canada for chuckwagon racing.



At the Calgary Stampede, there are the Bensmillers and the Sutherlands - Kelly, his son Mark and his brother Kirk, all of whom were ranked in the top eight as of Friday morning. There are the Tourniers, Luke and Leo; the Mitsuings, Ray and Devin; and the Knights, Jim and Wayne. Jason Glass is a fourth-generation driver; his father, Tommy won Calgary four times previously, the first time in 1983. His grandfather Ron Glass won three times in a four-year span between 1946 and 1947; and great-grandfather Tom won the second-ever event in 1924.



Troy Dorchester's father, Dallas, was the 1991 champion; his grandfather Tom won in 1970 and 1971.



On it goes. Troy Flad is racing here; Herman was the 1980 champion. Mike Vigen is about to retire, father Ralph was the winner here in 1972. And the current leader is Neal Walgenbach, who will also race for the last time Sunday; Hally Walgenbach was the 1964 champion.



"The way of thinking, the way of training, the way of buying horses, everything has changed," Glass said. "If you go right back into history to my great grandfather and grandfather, they loved horses and they were great caretakers. To see the sport evolve, those guys would be really proud, looking down on us."



Not everyone shares Glass's cheery outlook on the sport. Every year, a dance plays out between the Stampede board and the chuckwagon and rodeo participants on one side and animal-rights activists on the other. The former group stresses how much time and effort is put in safety, the latter argues that even the loss of a single animal is reason enough to ban the sport.



Six horses had died in the rodeo and chuckwagon competitions this year, as of Thursday night.



To run a wagon with four, 1,200-pound thoroughbreds requires a significant personal and financial commitment.



"In the old days - from 1928 into the 1950s - because so much of the agriculture industry was horse-powered, people understood what horsemanship was all about," said Kelly Sutherland, 58, a 10-time champion.



"They actually raced with work horses in that time. It was more of a festive thing that big ranches got involved in.



"I came in at the tail end of that era. Now, it's changed into a very high-tech operation."



Walgenbach, while trying to win Calgary for the first time, will put his horses and gear up for auction Sunday and leave the sport after 23 years. Because of the prohibitive costs, Walgenbach predicts that the sport's future will hinge on drawing corporate support beyond the annual 10-day Stampede windfall, where the total purse exceeds $1-million and Sunday night's winner will receive a $100,000 first-prize cheque. CBC announced a new five-year agreement on Friday to continue broadcasting the Stampede.



"Calgary's the only place we run that has decent prize money," Walgenbach said. "Without sponsorship, it won't go on."



Bensmiller recalls arriving in Calgary to compete in 1979, living in a small trailer, heated by a single propane tank that would run out of gas in the middle of the night.



"I came the first year for $1,000," Bensmiller said. "That's $100 a day. I never dreamt it would grow as big as what it has today. I never dreamt I'd be running for this kind of money and the sponsorship the way it is. But the more you make, the more it costs you. You paint your rigs, you have new vehicles, so you really have to look after your sponsor."



Bensmiller and Sutherland are both feeling the effects of age, as they slowly wean themselves away from the competition.



Sutherland says, "For me, if my son wasn't involved, I probably would have quit a few years ago because I've won a lot of things in the sport. But we travel together and work together and he takes quite a bit more of the physical work, because that's becoming quite a difficult thing for me."

Interact with The Globe