At the end of every rodeo, Rick Wanchuk waits by the exit with a bucket of suckers.
The rodeo clown, better known by his stage name Ricky Ticky Wanchuk, is instantly recognizable, with his face painted with classic white eyes and a red nose. Crowds of children and their parents stand around him as he hands out the individually wrapped candies.
In a day, Wanchuk will hand out $150 worth of suckers. Over the 25 rodeos he attends in a summer, he鈥檒l spend between $5,000 and $7,000 in candy.
鈥淚t used to be $5 a weekend to $25,鈥� he explained over the phone. 鈥淣ow it鈥檚 up in around $150 a day.鈥�
Wanchuk, 66, was calling from the lunchroom of his off-season job, where he works as a crane operator. It was several weeks before the Cloverdale Rodeo, his first rodeo of the season, and he had just purchased the 1,500 pounds of suckers he would need for the summer.
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鈥淚t鈥檚 pretty exciting to get ready for the next two weeks, and then make the trip across the mountains to do it,鈥� Wanchuk said. It wouldn鈥檛 be his first trip 鈥� Wanchuk has been clowning at the Cloverdale Rodeo for nearly 20 years, and working as a rodeo clown in rodeos across the country since the mid-1970s.
In those days, Wanchuk was a young bareback racer who wanted to get into the world of bullfighting.
His first bullfighting rodeo was in Stetton, Alta., about 10 miles from his home in Alberta. It was 鈥減retty scary,鈥� he said, but not in the way most people would expect.
For much of rodeo鈥檚 history, bullfighters combined the roles of protector and clown. When the bull was in the arena, they were responsible for distracting the animal to ensure the safety of the bull rider. In between times, they were responsible for entertaining the audience by telling jokes.
Wanchuk wasn鈥檛 afraid of the bulls. He was afraid of the people.
鈥淚鈥檒l step around 鈥榚m, get stepped on, it doesn鈥檛 matter,鈥� he said about the bulls at the rodeo. 鈥淏ut 鈥� all of a sudden there鈥檚 a lull in the rodeo and they need someone to tell a story and it was my turn.
鈥淚鈥檇 be halfway through the joke or whatever, and I was ever so happy to hear that latch crack, which meant the bull was on its way out, and I didn鈥檛 have to worry about the joke anymore, whether people liked it or didn鈥檛 like it.鈥�
For the first three years of his bullfighting career, Wanchuk struggled. Then, in 1977 at a rodeo in Big River, Sask., he 鈥渄arn near got killed鈥� by a bull. Lying on the floor of his camper, while his friend drove the truck away, Wanchuk started thinking about his role in the rodeo and his fear of show business.
鈥淚 said, you know, I鈥檝e got a hill to climb here,鈥欌�� he said. 鈥淢y plan was to get better at [clowning] and not to worry about it so much.鈥�
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That same injury also prompted Wanchuk to reevaluate how he interacted with children at the rodeo.
During the rodeo, the bullfighters would sometimes have to jump up on the fence to escape a marauding bull. Often, that scared kids in the stands.
鈥淭he last thing you鈥檙e worried about is a little kid screaming,鈥� Wanchuk said. 鈥淣ow all of a sudden you glance over and they鈥檙e crying because you scared them. And so I鈥檇 crawl back under the fence and talk to them and give them a piece of gum.
鈥淎nd that night when I got hurt there, and I was in that truck, I got thinking about that. I said, you know, that鈥檚 not really the right thing,鈥� he continued. 鈥淏ecause the little kid that鈥檚 screaming for no real reason other than he was afraid 鈥� got gum. His little sister that sat there and just smiled didn鈥檛 get anything.鈥�
From 1977 on, Wanchuk鈥檚 approach to rodeo鈥檚 changed. He handed out gum, and later suckers, to all kids. And he worked hard to become better at public speaking.
He also advocated for the separation of clowning and bullfighting.
鈥淰ery early in it I decided this is not good, because you鈥檙e concentrating on that bull coming out and what you鈥檙e going to have to do 鈥� but you鈥檙e also trying to concentrate on the people at the same time,鈥� he explained. 鈥淚 kept campaigning that we need one more guy out there, we need one more guy out there. Of course nobody wants to pay for that.
鈥淭here was times I just hauled somebody else with me, fed him and stuff.鈥�
Now, nearly 40 years later, bullfighting and clowning are separate, at least at the Cloverdale Rodeo. But Wanchuk still brings another guy along with him to help with his shows.
This year, it will be his 15-year-old son Kyle, who鈥檚 helped his dad in shows since he was two or three.
鈥淪ometimes it鈥檚 very challenging when they鈥檙e that little,鈥� Wanchuk said about his sons helping him as toddlers (both his son Kyle and his older son Kolby were involved in his clowning). 鈥淏ut they both picked up on it.鈥�
It鈥檚 unlikely either will continue in the rodeo clown business, however. Kolby is already an accomplished bronc rider 鈥� Wanchuk hopes he鈥檒l someday get an invitation to the Cloverdale Rodeo 鈥� and Kyle is starting as a roper in high school rodeos. But for now, there will always be at least one Wanchuk at the rodeo.
鈥淚 guess one day my life will expire, but it will be out in the arena,鈥� Wanchuk said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 hard to quit something you love. So I figure if I don鈥檛 have to do that, that鈥檚 a great thing.鈥�
editor@cloverdalereporter.com
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