I really think half of the state tried to make it to the rodeo at the same time we did. Traffic was absurd. We gave up after driving about half a mile in half an hour, because some of us were really hungry, the rodeo had already been going for an hour without us, and we just weren't having the fabulous times everyone else seemed to be having. It was fabulous, no joke. But all the other people were sitting in the backs of pickup trucks. Flying Confederate flags. I wish I had been brave enough to take photos, but it was dark and they might have had guns.
In our attempt to escape the rodeo traffic, we ran into a redneck parade, with even more trucks and flags. The whole town must have been out, because Main Street was mobbed with them, as well as spectators. I never knew driving a truck, full of people in shorts with their cowboy boots, and flying a redneck flag was a spectator sport. But it is in Benson, where the population of hipsters seems to equal one.
Even better were the official signs along the side of the road prohibiting equine traffic. What is this place?
When we finally got out of town, we found a place that made authentic Eastern barbecue. Pork sandwiches with cole slaw and hush puppies, drenched in vinegar sauce. I think I might have just seen a snapshot of the real South.
