Broken Barriers

Taylor Mason eases Spice into the roping box.

- Carol Hutchison

The mare, light on her feet, muscles flexed, knows what’s coming. Taylor’s dad stands in the box with her as the barrier is set. Her mom, Shelly, readies her phone to video. An adrenaline rush takes over Taylor and she feels no pain—not even the heat from the blazing sun—only an overwhelming feeling that she’s right where she belongs. With the long loop in her hand and the excess under her arm, Taylor’s eyes dart from the calf to her dad for a mere second. Her confidence mounts with a reassuring look from the one who taught her everything she knows. All is still and quiet until Taylor’s hat finally tips. The chute flies open and Spice bursts out of the box. Taylor swings twice, ropes the calf and pitches the slack as Spice stops hard. It all happens in two and a half seconds, from the nod until the end of the rope breaks away from her saddle. Her younger sister, Haley, is next to take her turn in the breakaway roping, and the same scene replays.

Taylor, 20, and Haley, 13, both grew up around horses and cattle. Their dad, James, learned to rope as a young teenager in Anderson, Texas. He went on to enjoy success in tie-down calf roping, traveling to rodeos all over the country, his wife and eldest daughter, Taylor, in tow. After his youngest daughter, Haley was born, his focus shifted to teaching his girls everything he knew about cattle, horses, roping, and following dreams without any barriers.

THE ADDICTION

James grew up close to extended family. In his neighborhood, all the boys wanted to rope.

“We used to line up in my auntie’s yard,” he says. “We had a rocking horse we put inside of a tire. Then we made the calf dummy legs out of another tire so we could tie them. We’d sit on a propane tank, rope the rocking horse head, jump down, and tie the three pieces of tire. That’s how I learned to rope.”