Riding with the Kings of the West: When the San Fernando Valley Was Still Wild

 

Approaching my 84th birthday, I often find myself daydreaming about those idyllic days of yesteryear. It was a time when I rode a good red dun pony named Sandy alongside oldtime friends—trotting down quiet dirt roads while watching deer graze along the shores of a beautiful 800-acre lake that no longer exists. All my silver-screen heroes, like the great horses of my life, have long since crossed the Great Divide. But back in the mid-1950s, those legends were as real and vibrant as the leather in my Visalia saddle.

I feel a bit sorry for young folks today who never got to see all that was good in Los Angeles 70-odd years ago. If you had a time machine, I reckon you’d set the dials for 1955 and 1956—back when a horse-crazy teenager could rub shoulders with Hollywood royalty in the Coliseum on a Saturday, and spend Sunday in the stirrups riding through thirty-two miles of untamed California sunshine.

Part I: Thunder in the Coliseum

In those days, Sandy was pretty much the center of my universe. I had joined up with a great group of horse-folks in Equestrian Trails Inc. (ETI), and in August of 1955, they invited me to tag along to the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Championship Rodeo.

Nothing today compares to the raw spectacle of the Sheriff’s Rodeo at the L.A. Memorial Coliseum. Sponsored by Sheriff Eugene Biscailuz and drawing record crowds of over 100,000 screaming fans, it was a grand collision of Hollywood glamour and true frontier grit.

Sitting in those stadium seats, you were entertained by the undisputed monarchs of the silver screen. Roy Rogers—the "King of the Cowboys"—and Dale Evans made their grand entrance alongside Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels, riding in full regal costume as The Lone Ranger and Tonto. Gene Autry, John Wayne, and the Sheriff himself rode before the cheering throngs in massive Western parades that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

But the rodeo wasn't just movie magic—it was top-tier, bone-jarring PRCA competition. On the dirt below us, real-world champions battled for the world titles. I watched Casey Tibbs—the most famous bronc rider to ever live—fannin’ a bucking horse with his Stetson, riding high during his 1955 World All-Around championship year. The following year, the legendary Jim Shoulders dominated the arena, making a mean eight-second ride on a spinning bull on his way to another world title. For a kid who lived for horses, it was pure magic.

Part II: The 32-Mile Ride to Chatsworth Oak Park

As grand as the Coliseum was, the real adventure lay out in the hills on the back of my own horse.

In the mid-1950s, ETI organized an annual 32-mile roundtrip trail ride from Calabasas up to Chatsworth Oak Park for a grand Western barbecue, returning home as the evening shadows lengthened.

We staged near the newly erected, rustic gates of Hidden Hills—developed in 1950 by A.E. Hanson as an unpaved, streetlight-free equestrian haven. Before turning north, we rode near the centuries-old "Calabasas Hanging Tree" and the historic Leonis Adobe, which in 1955 was narrowly saved from the bulldozer's blade.

Heading north along dusty utility tracks and ranch trails that would eventually become Valley Circle Boulevard, we navigated open brush and rolling hills. To our right lay the magnificent Chatsworth Reservoir. In 1955, its 800 acres were filled with shimmering, silver-blue water, surrounded by towering oak trees, rocky outcrops, and thousands of migratory ducks and geese in the city's newly minted wildlife sanctuary. Deer grazed right along the wooded pastures of the water's edge.

As Sandy and I pushed deeper into the rocky crags of the Simi Hills, the contrast of the era hit us. To the west, the distant thunder of rocket engine tests from the Rocketdyne facility at Burro Flats would rattle the windows of the rustic 1920s cabins nestled in Lake Manor. Nearby, movie crews were filming episodes of Lassie along the shores, while Roy Rogers’ Double R Bar Ranch and the famous Iverson Movie Ranch occupied the adjacent rocks.

Our turnaround point and barbecue host was the Lake Manor Chapel in Chatsworth Oak Park—a historic country church whose kitchen building was completed that very year in 1955. After filling up on good food and Western camaraderie, we turned our horses south.

The View from the Ridge

Riding back as the setting sun cast long, golden shadows across the water of Chatsworth Lake, the quiet safety of the Calabasas meadows welcomed us home. Sandy’s hoofbeats clicked rhythmically against the dirt, carrying a tired but blissfully happy teenage cowboy.

That brief, magical window of the mid-1950s was a time when the West was still alive in the San Fernando Valley—where you could watch real legends ride, smell the sagebrush on an open trail, and live a life that felt like a movie. I’m mighty glad I was there to ride it.

Video: LA Sheriff's Rodeo 1955/6

https://youtu.be/nN_4SWz_mz4

Thank you Gemini AI for your wisdom and research assistance. -- Drifting Cowboy