By Piper Wiest
The historic Pioneer Hotel houses the Western Folklife Center offices.
Photo by Jessica Brandi Lifland
When I first stepped into the Western Folklife Center three days before the start of the 39th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, I immediately felt a spark of energy. Both literally, since the well-trodden carpet in the historic Pioneer Hotel generates enough static that touching a metal door handle causes a spark every time, and metaphorically, since the Gathering was officially about to begin.
I’d been working remotely for the Western Folklife Center for about a year and a half. Of course I’d heard about the Pioneer Hotel’s electric shock and about the Gathering’s electric energy, but finally I was out of Texas, off a computer, and in Elko to experience the dynamism firsthand. As I followed Gathering Manager Callie Greenhaw up the stairs to the third floor staff offices, we passed several volunteers and staff members already bustling up and down the steps. With everyone we passed we exchanged smiles, sometimes handshakes, sometimes hugs, and, more often than not, all three.
I quickly settled into my third floor office after a warm hug from Cleo Hansen, office manager and social media extraordinaire. Throughout my first day at the Western Folklife Center, I could hear the excitement bubbling and bursting down the hallway as volunteers, staff, and artists trickled in. I felt like I was at the biggest family reunion possible—and this was just the start.
“Everyone has that spark in them to create or make something. We take that spark and we try to build that spark to a flame.”
– Doug Groves
Photo by Callie Greenhaw
The next day, while sipping some Cowboy Joe coffee, a local Elko coffee shop already integral to my Gathering experience, Callie gave me the grand Elko tour. First, we stopped by the Elko Convention Center to see the start of Doug Groves’s rawhide braiding workshop. Next, we went by the museum to see the revolving theater, then the newly built high school auditorium, then the Great Basin College auditorium, and finally the Basque House. Despite seeing those five venues—which weren’t even all the venues used during the 39th Gathering—I still couldn’t envision the scale of the Gathering. I felt awed by the ability of this tiny town to hold such a lasting national event. Callie and I rounded out the tour with another stop at Cowboy Joe coffee.
Monday evening ushered in the first performance of the 39th Gathering and my very first live Gathering performance. The show, aptly named Right Where We Belong, featured musician Carin Mari from Colorado, poet Olivia Romo from New Mexico, and musician Forrest VanTuyl from Washington. Carin started the show with songs about her hometown of Buena Vista, Colorado. From my seat in the back, I could see the captivated audience. When she started singing a song about sitting around a campfire with her family, feeling the fire warm her bootsoles on a cold Colorado night, I saw audience members wiping tears from their eyes. I realized, then, how being in the Gathering audience was a different experience than watching a Gathering performance on my computer. The lyrics and verses of any performer at the Gathering are moving and meaningful no matter the setting. But in person, the Gathering performances spark emotion throughout the audience, creating a collective warmth to share in like Carin’s campfire.
By Thursday, the Gathering hit full swing. Gathering goers packed the auditorium and theater seats, crowded the Pioneer Saloon bar, and filled the Convention Center lobby lounge. In the evening, I headed over to the “fireplace nook.” Tucked in the back of the Pioneer Saloon, the fireplace nook provided a cozy setting for the Sharing Stories by the Fireside event. For over an hour, I sat and swapped stories with six others. Our ages ranged from early 20s to late 70s, our home states from Texas to California, and our number of times at the Gathering from one to ten. We went around and told stories, taking an element from one person’s story and telling our own story based on that element. As every story I heard sparked my own, I realized that this casual event represented the larger Gathering on a smaller scale. All of us had different life experiences. Despite that, we could still connect all our stories together. Similarly, every performance, workshop, panel, and dance at the Gathering sparks a sense of connection between people of all ages and places. All it takes is being in the right spot.
In the early hours of Sunday morning—what some people may consider still Saturday night—I boarded the tiny plane back to Salt Lake City. Soon enough, I’d be back in Texas. Even as I left Elko that morning, though, the Gathering continued. In front of me sat poet Henry Real Bird. To the right of me sat poet Kye Rieff. To the left of me sat the keynote speaker Jeff Mundell. Geno Delafose & French Rockin’ Boogie sat somewhere behind me, as did countless other musicians, poets, volunteers, and event staff. This tiny plane was filled to the brim with talent. As the plane rose up over the snowcapped mountains, meeting the rising sun, I noticed a couple of the artists and volunteers scribbling in their notebooks. Everyone had felt the spark of the Gathering’s electric energy.
Callie and Piper enjoy some hard-won downtime at the Gathering.
Photo by Greg Greenhaw
Piper Wiest was born and raised in Austin, Texas. She comes from four generations of Central Texas ranchers and often spends time out on the family ranch. In summer 2022, she interned for the Western Folklife Center. Piper recently graduated from Smith College as a history major and currently works part-time for the Western Folklife Center as a communications assistant.
