Budweiser's Clydesdales stride into Norfolk

NORFOLK

A few drops of rain. A rumble of thunder. It was enough to keep the rock stars of the horse world from performing at Harbor Park on Tuesday night.

Sixteen thousand pounds of horseflesh wearing steel shoes does not go well with lightning, explained Roman Rayber, who considers himself blessed to earn his living driving one of Budweiser’s three traveling teams of Clydesdales.

“Some people like to drive sports cars,” Rayber said. “This is my thrill.”

Headquartered in New Hampshire, the team – or hitch, as a wagon team is called – logs 320 days on the road every year, heading up and down the East Coast to events.

This morning’s ribbon cutting at Norfolk’s new Navy Exchange brought the Clydesdales to Hampton Roads. Tuesday night’s appearance at Harbor Park was supposed to be a bonus for baseball fans, until a storm moved in.

“Safety first,” said Rayber, as the antique red-and-white beer wagon was rolled back into a semi in the stadium parking lot.

Two other tractor-trailers held the horses, eight gentle giants with hooves the size of dinner plates who have become one of advertising’s most recognized icons.

Introduced in 1933 to celebrate the repeal of Prohibition, the Budweiser Clydesdales stand about 6-feet tall at the shoulder and weigh an average of 2,000 pounds – twice the weight of a typical horse.

Inside their trailers at Harbor Park, they waited like professionals, unfazed by the weather or the wide-eyed onlookers who leaned inside to snap pictures.

Six handlers travel with the horses, and they’d spent hours preparing for the ballpark appearance – washing and brushing and braiding, standing on benches to reach those lofty black manes. Trucks were shined, brass was polished and leather cleaned.

No matter. It’s all part of a job that Rayber has been doing for 12 years.

“I was raised Amish,” he said. “I’ve been driving farm horses since I was 3 or 4 years old. To drive the Budweiser Clydesdales is just incredible.”

The team travels pretty cushy, especially the horses. Their trailers are cooled by fans and rubber mats keep them comfortable underfoot. There’s a bale of sweet hay every day, plus a pound of grain, and a new pair of shoes every six weeks.

And always another show, always more admirers. Nostrils flare in a soft pink muzzle. A warm breath whooshes contentedly from huge lungs.

Rayber pats a massive neck and receives an affectionate nuzzle in return: “I’m a lucky man. This is as good as work gets”

Joanne Kimberlin, (757) 446-2338, joanne.kimberlin@pilotonline.com