#2489 - Ryan Bingham

Ryan Bingham’s remarkable life journey displays a rare blend of grit, artistry, and opportunity. From bull-riding prodigy to acclaimed musician and now a notable actor on “Yellowstone,” Bingham’s path reveals how high-risk resilience, community support, and authenticity fueled his multi-faceted career.

Rodeo Immersion in Youth Built Resilience Through High-Risk Experiences

Starting Bull Riding at 10 Transformed Fear Into Confidence With Family Support

Bingham grew up deeply entrenched in ranch and rodeo culture. At ten years old, he started riding steers at junior rodeos, describing it as commonplace as little league in his upbringing. Inspired by his uncle—a professional bull rider—Bingham caught the rodeo bug young, driven by admiration and familial ties. His father or uncle would be in the chute holding the steers’ horns for safety, instilling both confidence and security from the start.

Transitioning from steers to bulls in Odessa, Texas, was a pivotal and intimidating step. The physical difference—bulls being much larger, with horns and wide backs—provoked real fear. Bingham recollects being in tears before his first bull ride, and his uncle reassured him he could walk away at any time, fostering autonomy over his decision. Choosing to ride, Bingham was thrown after a few jumps, but the experience transformed him. He felt like “the king of the world,” immediately craving greater challenges and experiencing the formative pride that would shape his attitude toward future obstacles. Over time, the progression from steers to more aggressive junior and full-grown bulls further built his resilience and mental toughness.

From Steers to Bulls: Success Is Mental, Not Physical

His uncle stressed that rodeo success wasn’t about brute strength; it was all mental. The mantra was not “I think I can,” but “I know I can, and I will.” If Bingham didn’t ride with complete confidence, the outcome would always be failure. This philosophy conditioned him to view life’s challenges with a similar mindset—deep breaths, focus, and a willingness to leap into daunting situations.

Training as a Test Pilot For Bulls on Breeding Farms Exposed Early to Danger

By age 14 or 15, rodeo was evolving with specialized bull breeding, shifting the landscape from old, placid bulls to young, purpose-bred animals for events like PBR. Bingham became a “test pilot” at breeding farms, climbing aboard a dozen or more wild yearling bulls a day to help breeders evaluate which animals would buck best. The unpredictability and danger—wild behavior in the chute, the potential to be flipped—were intrinsic. Bingham was energized, the wilder the bull, the more excited he became, often riding without modern protective gear like helmets or vests.

His life-or-death experiences, including a brutal incident in which his lip was nearly bitten off and his teeth knocked out, imparted a sense of toughness and perspective. He refused ambulances due to lack of insurance, patched himself up as needed, and knew that after facing such adversity, most other struggles—including those in the music business—would pale in comparison.

Rodeo to Music Transition via Social Ties and Bar Gigs, Not Formal Training

Learning Guitar From a Stranger Then Self-Directed Learning With Musicians and Chord Books

Bingham’s transition to music was organic and rooted in the ranch community. At 16 or 17, his mother bought him a guitar after moving to Laredo with his father. Initially, he didn’t know how to tune or play it, but a local man playing dominoes took the instrument, played “La Malagueña,” and taught the intrigued Bingham how to fingerpick and strum, giving him a foundation. Later, at rodeos in Stephenville, Bingham learned new chords from musical peers and supplemented his learning with a chord book, gradually composing his own songs.

Playing Weekend Gigs at Bars and Rodeo Afterparties While Bull Riding Earned Early Income and Encouragement From Ranchers Like Mack Althizer

As a bull rider, Bingham began performing informally—singing about rodeo adventures and gradually gaining encouragement from ranchers, especially Mack Althizer. After riding at Althizer’s rodeos, Bingham was invited to play for contestants at afterparties, often performing on flatbed trailers or in bars. These experiences, along with supportive crowds and a culture that encouraged everyone to share their music regardless of skill, fueled his confidence and perseverance.

The camaraderie and fun of long drives, sleeping in trucks, and playing bars with friends mirrored rodeo life. Financially, earning $100 a night playing music—plus tips, food, and beer—soon outpaced the day jobs Bingham worked during the week. The music scene’s acceptance and the tangible support from the rodeo and bar communities made pursuing music a practical decision as well as an emotional one, and it cemented his cowboy identity during early gigs.

Austin Move Connects With Songwriters, Validates Music's Viability

Moving to Austin, Bingham found further support among songwriters and music lovers, discovering an environment where live music was welcomed. The Texas scene’s inclusive attitude validated playing original songs in public, and ...

Songwriting Heals Emotions and Experiences Resisting Conversation

Ryan Bingham describes how songwriting became an essential tool for personal healing from the moment he began composing music. Writing and singing songs, especially about weekend adventures or inner struggles, allowed him to express emotions and conflicts that felt too uncomfortable to discuss openly. He highlights that even singing "to the wall" with no one else in the room gave him an outlet for his feelings, offering emotional release without needing an audience’s approval or validation. For Bingham, what he gets out of music is found not in commercial success but in those solitary, healing moments at home—a process he credits with saving his life. He underscores that this aspect of songwriting is so valuable to him that he protects it ruthlessly, insisting that its therapeutic role vastly outweighs the importance of selling records, touring, or promotional gains.

Authentic Storytelling in Music Inspires Through Genuine Experience

Bingham and Joe Rogan discuss the enduring power of authentic storytelling in music. Rogan cites artists like Colter Wall, whose song "Kate McKinnon" carries the emotional weight and vocal grit of a far older man, despite Wall’s young age and continued life on a ranch. They also examine Oliver Anthony’s meteoric rise, with Anthony’s heartfelt, unpolished song performed alone in a field garnering over 100 million YouTube views—and eventually over 236 million. Both Rogan and Bingham note Anthony’s authenticity, with Rogan recounting Anthony’s initial discomfort with sudden fame and multiple contract offers. Rogan’s advice was to remain independent, emphasizing talent as the most important asset, the ability to reach millions without needing a label or production team, and warning not to sign away rights or profits to external interests. Bingham echoes this perspective, stressing that the combination of writing strong songs and being able to directly share them with people is all that any musician really needs today.

This era, they agree, lets artists instantly share honest experiences—whether stories of heartbreak in songs like Anthony’s "Woman Scorned" or tales emerging from everyday life—without industry gatekeepers. Rogan notes how the internet and YouTube allow listeners to easily and rapidly discover new artists, creating direct pathways from artist to audience that bypass traditional obstacles. Bingham highlights how this instant access is revolutionary: a young unknown might write a song in a garage that deeply resonates with millions. He expresses optimism that, despite changes in the world and the rise of digital culture, there will always be new generations of meaningful artists inspired by authentic, lived experiences. For both musicians, it is this genuineness—universally relatable and moving—that ensures a song’s endurance across generations.

Decline of Formal Music Education and Digital Learning's Impact on Artistic Development

Bingham reflect ...

Wilderness Time Transforms Like Urban Life CanNot

Ryan Bingham recounts his transformative experience attending a six-week hunting guide school in Montana's backcountry run by Royal Time Outfitters. Although he grew up ranching and cowboying, he had never spent such an extended period deep in the mountains, cut off from urban distractions. The minimalism of backcountry life altered his perspective on possessions and what’s meaningful. He describes going in with a backpack full of gear and emerging convinced all he needed was a pair of scissors and a way to make fire.

One morning, waking up to snow falling on horses’ backs as they sheltered under tarps, Bingham achieved a spiritual clarity about his place in nature. The moment sparked in him a sense of belonging to the natural world, making it difficult to return to civilization. He realized that wilderness living activates a primal awareness untouched by urban stimulation—vision, hearing, and smell are heightened, delivering a natural high and a sense of normalcy that city life cannot replicate. Joe Rogan echoes how nature’s grandeur feels overwhelming and beautiful, striking something deep in everyone’s DNA and reconnecting people to ancient instincts that recognize fertility and the abundance of life. Both agree that civilization can numb these feelings, but time in nature restores the spirit, reminding people of where they truly belong.

Ranching and Cowboy Skills Retain Value Despite Modern Technology

Horsemanship, animal husbandry, and ranch work continue to offer immense value beyond technological advancement. Bingham notes that interacting with horses seems to activate a genetic memory, passed down over millennia of human-horse partnership. He emphasizes the therapeutic benefits of simply being around horses, observing how children and even people unfamiliar with large animals quickly relax and bond after just a short time. Rogan points out the use of horses in equine therapy to treat anxiety and depression, affirming the age-old connection between humans and horses. Bingham agrees, adding that even in tough times, time in the barn with horses gives him comfort and lifts his mood.

Bingham passes these experiences to his own children, keeping horses for them even if they show only casual interest, and introducing visiting city kids to the animals. He treasures watching children overcome initial nervousness, relax, and connect with the animals, an awakening of dormant instincts and energy. He describes his own upbringing—learning animal husbandry, taking responsibility for caring for livestock, and appreciating the interconnectedness of land, water, and life.

Physical ranch work, such as hay bailing, fence building, and other manual labor, builds character and resilience, providing a sense of honest fatigue and satisfaction not found in digital or office work. Bingham’s summers spent with his hardworking grandfather instilled a profound respect for physical effort, resourcefulness, and storytelling. He values that he can now build his own fences and enjoy working around the house, a skill set that many younger people lack. Rogan and Bingham discuss how rugged, demanding jobs like stacking hay or working with insulation teach vital lessons about work ethic, the satisfaction of a tough job completed, and clarity on personal goals and limits.

Bingham illustrates how, through generations, his family cherished practical, survival-based skills—his grandfather, for instance, who grew up without modern conveniences, considered refrigeration revolutionary. Stories of ancestors building ranches in unforgiving territory, living in dugouts, and facing extreme conditions reinforce the enduring importance of these abilities.

Wilderness and Traditional Skills in Childhood Build Lifelong Resilience and Confidence

Exposure to natural hazards, physical cha ...

Wildlife Management Fails Due to Inexperience With Dangerous Animals

Joe Rogan and Ryan Bingham discuss how wildlife management in California often fails due to a lack of experience with dangerous animals and a disconnect between decision-makers and those who work the land. A prominent example is the recent eradication plan for mule deer on Santa Catalina Island. The California officials intend to remove about 2,000 non-native mule deer, introduced in the 1930s, using ground-based hunters, with the stated goal of restoring native ecosystem balance. The deer are considered invasive because they eat native vegetation and spread fire-prone grasses. Rogan and Bingham express skepticism, with Rogan arguing it would be better simply to allow hunting rather than orchestrate costly eradications.

Similarly, poor outcomes have resulted from reintroducing wolves and grizzlies into livestock regions without meaningful consultation with ranchers. Rogan describes how wolves that preyed on livestock in Oregon were captured and later released near Aspen, Colorado, in ranching country. Predictably, these wolves resumed killing cows, causing economic losses and requiring ranchers to mount constant vigilance to protect their herds. Bingham notes similar issues with bears released near producers. Both men highlight the lack of accountability for state employees who make wildlife decisions—they do not personally face the dangers or financial losses that inappropriate reintroductions cause. Instead, ranchers endure the consequences of policies enacted by those unfamiliar with the day-to-day realities of predator management.

Increased Predator Populations and Reduced Control due to Hunting With Dogs Restrictions

A key policy change discussed is California’s ban on hunting lions and bears with dogs. Rogan explains that hunting with dogs is the best way to selectively manage predator populations, as it enables hunters to tree the animals and assess size, sex, and health before harvest. This selective process allows for targeted control rather than indiscriminate removal. Since the ban, harvest numbers have plummeted, and both lion and bear numbers have surged. The result is increased human-wildlife conflicts, with sightings of bears in suburban pools, wolves found in Los Angeles, and mountain lions roaming neighborhoods.

The unchecked growth of aging predator populations poses direct threats to suburbs. With hunting restrictions, mountain lions and bears increasingly roam near homes, easily preying on unattended pets and, in rare cases, posing risks to children. In Texas and New Mexico, ranchers maintain some ability to defend themselves and livestock, but heavy restrictions in states like California make it difficult to protect property or ensure public safety.

Urban Populations Overlook Predator Danger, Imposing Emotional Regulations Over Safety

Rogan and Bingham note a strong urban-rural divide in attitudes toward wildlife. Many urban residents, removed from the realities of predator presence, romanticize dangerous animals and resist regulated hunting, often viewing it as unnecessary or cruel. This emotional resistance has political impact, leading to laws that protect predators with little regard for people who actually live alongside them. Rogan references how, when mountain lions’ diets are analyzed, up to 50% of their food is ...

Rural Communities Offer Mentorship, Skills, and Social Support, Unlike Urban Individualism

Ryan Bingham reflects on growing up immersed in ranching and rodeo culture, where skills, confidence, and aspirations pass through family networks. He remembers how young Texans were inspired by their bull-riding uncles and other community mentors to pursue music, rodeo, and other crafts, fostering a deep sense of belonging and purpose. Bingham also recounts that when he moved to Austin in his mid-20s, older musicians like Joe Ely, Terry Allen, Guy Clark, and Steve Earle provided invaluable mentorship. These traditions of support echo earlier examples like Mack Althizer’s rodeo company, which was known for offering work, advice, and a sense of belonging without expecting anything in return.

Bingham and Rogan point out that in rural Texas, people depend on each other for practical help, creating strong bonds absent in urban centers. When equipment breaks or storms block roads, neighbors show up with tractors, backhoes, and expertise—no permits or bureaucracy needed. Rogan contrasts this with cities like Los Angeles, where drivers ignore stranded motorists and there’s little inclination to help strangers, highlighting how rural interdependence breeds both ruggedness and community connection that urban individualism often lacks.

Austin's 1990s-2000s Music Scene Fostered Emerging Artists Via Low Entry Barriers

Bingham credits the Austin music community—and the Hill Country at large—with launching his career, emphasizing that support for newcomers remains a local tradition. At places like the City Limits bar, established Texas songwriters actively encouraged and celebrated up-and-coming talents. The culture prioritized gas money, food, places to stay, and gig connections over commercial status, enabling musicians to survive and grow creatively. Bingham recalls playing for supportive audiences in bars, being invited to after-parties, and trading odd jobs for travel funds. This culture relied on reciprocal aid rooted in relationships, providing psychological safety for artists to experiment and find their voices. Bingham’s wife’s motto, "Go where you're celebrated, not where you're tolerated," encapsulates the ethos of these communities.

California's Expanded Regulations Complicate and Raise Costs For Problem-Solving

Both Bingham and Rogan criticize how California’s bureaucracy impedes simple tasks that rural Texans accomplish together. In Texas, if a road washes out, neighbors handle repairs with their own equipment—no red tape. In California, the same situation requires navigating layers of permits, government approvals, and expensive contractors, dramatically increasing cost and frustration. Rogan cites statistics about California's government workforce growing 24% while the population grew only 1%, arguing that expanded regulation exists primarily to justify the government’s size and control. The mounting bureaucracy, steep living costs, and regulatory burdens push many to leave California for less encumbered states like Texas.

Migration Reflects Desire to Escape Complexity and Reconnect With Community Values

Bingham describes the relief and sense of “weight coming off” each time he leaves California for Texas after years in Topanga Canyon, emphasizing a return to authentic community over Hollywood’s complexity. This migration is part of a broader trend, as people seek simpler, more connected lives. Montana and West Texas—places Bingham knows well—draw those in search of rural authenticity, but newcomers sometimes face resistance from locals protective of their lifestyles. In Montana, winter acts as an additional filter, thinning out those less committed to rural life. In West Texas, many newcomers quickly depart after realizing local ameni ...