When people mention Lane Frost, they often picture the bright smile, the confident stance, and the unbreakable spirit atop a raging bull. But for Tuff Hedeman, Lane was more than a legend — he was a brother. On July 30, 1989, at Cheyenne Frontier Days, the rodeo world lost an icon, and Tuff lost a part of his soul.

Two Brothers Bound by the Arena

Tuff and Lane first met in their early twenties, chasing dusty dreams across the rodeo circuit. They shared hotel rooms, long road trips, and stories under the stars. “If I won, Lane was the first to hug me. If I got hurt, he was the first one by my side,” Tuff recalled.

During the 1980s, both rose to fame in the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA). Lane was known for his technical precision and charming smile, while Tuff was the tough, protective figure who always had Lane’s back. They were rivals in the arena — but brothers in every sense that mattered.

The Day That Changed Everything

That fateful day in Cheyenne, Lane drew a bull named Takin’ Care of Business. He rode the full eight seconds — a flawless performance — but when he dismounted, the bull turned and struck him in the chest. The blow fractured his ribs and pierced his heart. Lane was rushed to the hospital but didn’t survive.

Tuff ran to him that moment. “I knew right then,” he later said quietly. “Nothing would ever be the same.”
At the funeral, Tuff wore Lane’s jacket and stood beside the coffin, silent — a man shattered yet determined to carry his friend’s legacy.

A Promise Made, A Legacy Born

After Lane’s death, Tuff made a promise to Lane’s mother: to keep his friend’s memory alive. Along with Cody Lambert, he helped design the protective vest that all bull riders wear today — the same gear Lane never had the chance to use.
“If we had built it sooner, Lane might still be here,” Cody once said.

In 1993, when Tuff won the World Bull Riding Championship, he didn’t celebrate. Instead, he walked straight to a photo of Lane, removed his hat, and bowed his head. “This one’s for him,” he whispered.

The Legacy Lives On

More than three decades later, Tuff still speaks of Lane as if he never left. Every time he steps into an arena, he feels his friend’s spirit riding with him. “I never got over it. I just learned to live with it,” he confessed.

Today, at Cheyenne Frontier Days, a bronze statue of Lane Frost stands tall — capturing his final ride. For those who knew him, it’s more than a monument; it’s a symbol of brotherhood, courage, and the undying heart of the cowboy.