Gentlemen Start Your Burros

There is exciting news from Colorado! Previously a rather obscure state of America known mainly for South Park and for being where Doc Holliday died Colorado is about to explode onto the world stage. The reason? Pack Burro Racing! In keeping with the American tradition for having an official state mascot for pretty much everything there is a push currently underway to make pack burro racing the official state sport of Colorado. Colorado already has a state insect (the Colorado Hairstreak Butterfly), a state gemstone (aquamarine) and a state fossil (stegosaurus) and now there are moves to create an official state sport. Surely an official state disease can only be a short step away. My suggestion; tuberculosis "When you're tired of coughing, you're tired of Colorado".

But back to pack burro racing. You don't actually ride the burro, instead you load it up with fifteen kilos of mining gear (you can put other stuff on as well if you like but the mining gear is mandatory) and then you lead it on a rope. You must not ride the burro! You may, if you wish, carry the burro if you think this will give you an advantage but sitting astride it is definitely out. You then lead (or carry) your burro (lead rope may be no longer than fifteen feet) over a predetermined cross country route. First person (and burro) across the line is the winner. There are veterinarians on hand to assess the health of the burro and to ensure that nobody simply shoots the thing, loads it onto a pickup truck and drives the route (I quite liked my chances until I heard that).

What would persuade anybody to run (or try to run) along mountain paths hauling a recalcitrant quadruped? When you hear of something this silly tradition almost certainly has to be involved. In the nineteenth century prospectors in the Colorado Rockies on making a rich strike would load up their burro and hightail it back to the nearest town to stake their claim before anybody else could snatch it away from them. Pack burro racing is a way of commemorating these days of yore. Strangely nobody has suggested a race that could commemorate all the prospectors who found nothing, got lost, ate their burro and died of exposure in a cave recently vacated by a bear.

Hopefully proponents of pack burro racing will get their way (for some reason more people think about skiing in Colorado than pack burro racing) and Colorado will get an official state sport. Then they can start lobbying for tuberculosis.