Vold Rodeo Company Owner Sells Business After 28 Years

Kirsten Vold is sitting in a garden. It’s shady. Her mother built it. Outside the main ranch house in Avondale, southeast of Pueblo, the heat is dry and dusty. Vold has a dog named Rocky. She has a few horses. She is thrilled to just be at home.

This summer is new for her. She never had time for these things before. For 28 years, she hauled bulls and broncs from one rodeo to the next. She ran the Vold Rodeo Company. She sold it last year.

Now, she’s stuck in traffic at the Colorado Renaissance Festival near Larkspur. Not because she’s working. Because she’s visiting. This year was her first time going as a fan. She went to the Missouri Day Festival in Fowler. She watched a pie-eating contest. She found it simple. She liked it.

She bought a Colorado State Parks pass. She drove to Lake Pueblo. Just for fun. She’s booked a trip to Paris and Venice this fall. She wants to see things she has never seen.

It’s a stark shift from the dust and noise of the arena. She watched the Pikes Peak or Bust Rodeo on TV from her couch. Maybe she’ll go to the Colorado State Fair Rodeo later. That was the hometown show her company put on for decades.

She loves rodeo. She loves working with the animals. But she doesn’t miss being in the thick of it. She finally gets why her dad talked about selling the business thirty years ago. Managing people is hard. Managing a business is harder.

The economics have shifted. Vold estimated costs tripled over the last 10 years.

It’s not just her. Stock contractors and production companies are changing. You need a wealthy owner now. Or supplemental businesses to bring in cash. The Vold Rodeo Company did both. They provided the animals and put on the show.

Look at the Weld County-based Cervi Championship Rodeo. They have oil wells. They lease land to farmers. They’re building a golf resort on unused ranch land. They diversified. Vold didn’t have that luxury. She just had the rodeo.

The Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association noted the squeeze. "Owning a business this year is more expensive than it was last year," they said. Transporting animals costs more. Equipment costs more. Land costs more. Feeding the livestock that goes into the arena costs more.

Bucking horses. Bulls. Steers. Calves. All of it costs more.

Vold is 60-something. She’s tired of the road. She’s tired of the traffic jams that used to be part of the job. She’s ready for Paris.

But the model is broken for those who don’t have oil wells to fall back on. The middle-tier contractor is disappearing. You’re either big enough to build a golf course, or you’re out.

Vold sold out. She’s gone. The garden is quiet. The horses are grazing. The dog is sleeping.

The question isn’t whether she’ll miss the adrenaline. It’s whether anyone left can afford to stay.