They look like beauty pageant contestants, except they’re mounted on horses. These blondes and brunettes, wearing blue satin shirts, red scarves and cowboy hats, have circled their animals and are conversing in a quiet hum.

When one of the horses gingerly lifts up its tail and drops a small mountain of steaming manure in the sand below, no one bats an eye.

These are the flag girls of the Barnes Rodeo, and they’re outside the State Fair Coliseum in St. Paul waiting for the show to start. The rodeo is the main event tonight at the 21st Annual Minnesota Horse Expo, where piles of horse manure litter the walkways and nobody seems to mind.

Tens of thousands of people from all over Minnesota and beyond are here this weekend to check out the Expo’s huge display of horses and horse gear. The community of horse-lovers that gathers here each year is as much a part of the attraction as the horses themselves.

Emily Vomacka, 14, of Kandiyohi, owns her horse (Kajon, a 10-year-old Arabian), but she’s here to see the rare breeds.

“There are unique breeds you don’t see at home,” she says. “You should definitely walk through the horse barn.”

The horse barn is really not a barn, but a warehouse-type building built in 1933 by the Works Progress Administration. This is where uncommon breeds like the Akhl-Teke, Bashkir Curly, Guderandsdal and more than 30 others are on display.

But horses aren’t all Emily is here for. A new black saddle she just bought rests against her hip like a laundry basket (it’s half as big as she is).

Anyone looking for a new saddle – or practically anything else horse-related – will have probably find it here. There are more than 200 vendors, selling everything from riding helmets to old country music records.

At Ace Tack and Outfitters, Paula Schluck of Cambridge helps customers find the right pair of leather boots (Heritage Ropers, $69; Cascades, $99; or Colbalt Copper Ostrich, $429). She also explains the difference between English and Western saddles; English saddles are smaller and perfect for show riding, Western saddles are bulky and made for work.

Schluck says about half of the people she deals with are amateur riders who love horses, but don’t know much about them.

“There’s a lot of teaching,” she says. “I get a lot of 30-year-olds who are just getting back into horses.”

Those who want to buy a horse can check the wall at the entrance of the horse barn. It’s overflowing with homemade horse-for-sale signs. One asks $5,000 for Danny, a 5-year-old gelding, and another asks $7,500 for Shadowdancer, a 7-year-old half Arabian. And if that’s too much cash to spend all at once, there’s a booth inside offering “horse-financing.”

Keeping a horse clean is can be costly, and that’s where Dave Cooper hopes to profit. On the other side of the barn, he’s selling a horse-cleaning solution he says will leave any hide spotless after just one wash (and it’s good on cars, too).

“It’s the greatest stuff in the world,” he says, launching into a rehearsed sales pitch. He says the only problem he has selling the stuff is that it sounds too good to be true.

“My only competition is myself, because people don’t believe me.”

The product comes with a “holy-sh–” (gee-whiz, when children are near) guarantee, says Cooper.
“If you don’t say ‘holy-sh–’ when you use this stuff, I’ll give you a full refund,” he says in a rhythmic salesman’s voice. “I’ve washed over 2,000 horses, sold over 1,500 gallons, and I’ve never had one person ask for a refund.”

About a block away, Pat Tonjes is directing traffic into one of the Expo’s two huge parking areas. A broad-brimmed hat shades her face from the late-afternoon sun, and she smiles as she waves cars along. She’s been at it since 7 a.m.

“It’s tremendous,” she says. “They’re saying it’s much larger than last year. I didn’t expect anything like this.”

She’s looking out over a sea of cars, campers, and horse trailers that have filled the lot (about the size of three football fields) to capacity for most of the day. Groups of people sit, drinking and grilling, beside campers with names like “Discovery” and “King of the Road”. A man, denim-clad and with a cowboy hat covering his face, sleeps in the bed of a pickup truck while his legs dangle off the end.

Back inside coliseum, a mounted announcer is trotting in circles, pumping up the rodeo crowd with a patriotic speech. Outside, dozens of riders have joined the flag girls. The younger men – the rodeo contestants – are lean and spindly. The older men – who’ll chase down the broncos after they’ve bucked their riders – have weathered faces, constantly half smiling from because of the wrinkles around their eyes.

They’re all waiting for the moment when they’ll burst into the ring at top speed. But for now, they take off their hats and mouth along with the words of the national anthem being sung inside.

One of the few people not on a horse is Bert Davis, the rodeo clown. He wears huge, baggy overalls over a brightly colored checkered shirt. His six dogs surround him on all sides. He’s practicing a trick with one, called Wilmer, while the others strain their leashes.

Later, Davis, Wilmer and the other dogs will go into the ring to entertain the audience. Later still Davis (without the dogs) will try to distract the bulls so the riders don’t get trampled after they’ve been tossed.

Davis, with an ambulance in the background, acknowledges the danger of his job. He says he was hit by a bull about a month ago, and has only partial feeling in his right arm, but he’s still working three or four nights a week, and doesn’t plan to stop.

“This is my 30th season,” he says. “It’s all I’ve known all my life. I love it.”

As the anthem finishes, the riders and horses start streaming into the arena at top speed, spraying dirt behind them. The roar of the crowd and the thunder of hooves mean the first day of the Minnesota Horse Expo is coming to an end. Only two more to go.