Bring Back The Bull: Help Support Gabriel's Recovery

On July 30th, 2024, Gabriel Larson, our friend and legendary musician, sustained life threatening injuries in a high mountain accident near Buffalo, Wyoming while horseback with friends and colleagues, Matson Tew and Matt Gagnon. What follows is the story and the circumstances that led to his life altering event, written by Matson on August 6, 2024.

All proceeds from this fundraiser will go toward Gabriel's mounting medical expenses including the ER in Buffalo, ambulance transport, Banner Medical in Casper, x-rays and CTs totaling $42,000.

Thank you for your interest and for your support of our friend Gabriel the Bull. Follow him here:

https://www.instagram.com/gabriel.the.bull?igsh=ZDdvcnk2Z2Z4eG0=

It is staggering to think that it has been a week since the tragic accident that befell my good friend. Scarcely enough time has passed for the dust to settle and perspective gained on what could have easily been a freak and fatal fall. I was there riding with him, just behind at a comfortable lope, when his horse spooked violently for reasons only a horse understands. It wasn’t the horse’s fault, or the rider’s, doesn’t matter. When horseback in the high country things can get western in a split second. Sometimes your body’s hard wired response spares you, sometimes the recognition of your horse’s sense shields you, but more often than not…it is what happens after the wreck that distinguishes and defines the character of the fallen, the unfortunate, the humbled, and the bruised partnership between man and beast. Pure grit is what is needed when a cowboy’s body lays wrecked in the tall grass and sage directly beneath the towering peaks of the Big Horns .

My friend Gabriel Larson, or as some of you know him, Gabriel the Bull, was not in the wrong place at the wrong time that day. He had carefully choreographed this morning for the three of us to be on the mountain before we lost the ideal glow on yet another smoke-fumed day. My friend had a story to share, one that had been brewing and developing between him and his horse 3 Socks, a five year old Mustang from the Big Horn Basin. And thus I was up at 430 loading horses in Sheridan, Wyoming. Our colleague Matt was prepping advanced camera equipment for the day in his truck just north in Ranchester. Our meeting spot was the Schoolhouse Cow Camp just beneath Hunter’s Mesa in the Big Horn mountains above Buffalo, Wyoming. Gathering horses in the predawn light is magical, something about the rhythmic trust shared as they drift towards the halter and lead rope, the tail lights of the awaiting trailer in view. One of the first gestures between human and horse each day marking a harmony built on trust, passion and respect. That morning I observed a horned owl swoop down from the cabin and land just above the horses. I glanced long enough at this winged predator to wonder what it was sizing up. I would only later connect that neither of the horses I was loading gave it, or its shriek, a moment's notice. Danger, in that moment, simply didn’t register between predator and prey. When horses trust our partnership, the loyalty is intoxicating.

This is what Gabriel intended to capture that fateful morning via haunting lyrics, stunning music and vivid imagery. It's these subtle experiences with horses that lead to awakenings within ourselves and our relationships within the world around us. It's a new landscape within which to walk…each and every time it happens.

A month earlier in this exact box canyon, we had led a large group of riders supporting Gabriel’s generous intention to share the magic of horses in Wyoming’s Big Horn mountains with his close friends from Nashville. This ride morphed into a rainy oilskin duster-draped memory in and out of the cover of tree line and bellowing high mountain cows. To his close friends, there and afar, it would come to represent a portal through which he could share his story, his enlightenments and his gifts that few have been exposed to. A day later “the Tennessee three” and others sat in a booth at the Mint bar in downtown Sheridan reminiscing about the experience. Reconciling it with all their expectations and vivid stories told by Gabriel when in Nashville. I understood then the seed that was planted within Gabriel, the effect experiences like these had on him, the impact within and the sincere desire he has to share this story on a much larger scale.

As I sit comfortably now tapping out keys on my laptop, my friend labors to breathe through lungs twice punctured and ten shattered ribs 30 miles south with family in Buffalo. I wish I could tell the story for him, to ease his discomfort and pain. But I cannot, we came up short that day of Gabriel speaking directly to the camera about his journey. Hiis transformation. We were two hours of riding into a beautiful morning as I came to better understand his intentions for the final piece of the shoot. Some of our friend Matt’s beautiful imagery I imagine, will be enjoyed soon, hopefully alongside these words and Gabriel’s new released music. I will offer this in my closing portrayal of this man whom I witnessed silently and privately fight for each breath high up in that meadow. Gabriel the bull is a warrior. As he lay there gasping for air we presumed he had his wind knocked out. He was silent, curled up in a ball. Yet the fall did not look that catastrophic. All he could do was raise a finger from his fetal position to suggest he needed more time before he moved. Between the two of us, Matt and I knew enough about wilderness response time and emergency first aid to know we need to proceed very cautiously with evaluation and treatment. Gabriel’s immense strength and courage seemed to camouflage his real condition and it damn near cost him his life as, looking back on it, we moved much slower than should have given the circumstances. We reasoned with some input that Gabriel had cracked a rib or possible dislocation. Yet the fact that he could hardly move was extremely disconcerting. Our silver lining was the fact that for the very first time we had a professional photographer working with us, Matt Gagnon. The whole morning was being captured on film and consequently we had not ridden far from the 4wd roads and Matt’s Jeep loaded with equipment was usually within a couple hundred yards. It is hard to rationalize this type of injury and all the times we have been much more isolated and exposed, often more than 4 hours from even a trailhead not to mention the time it takes to get to town. Nonetheless, as time seemed to stand still we moved to load Gabriel’s limp body into the jeep. Including the following week with all the intubations and lines running everywhere and all the seizing movements of jeep crawling of the mountain, not once did Matt or I hear him swear, yell or or curse his bad luck. I don’t know what to call that - extreme acceptance or the grace to be able to endure the pain and misfortune.

While I dealt with the horses, Matt slowly maneuvered his way off the mountain with Gabriel riding shotgun, to the emergency room in the small town of Buffalo. It was a long stressful ride back to the horse trailer. One moment I would convince myself it was best to race ahead and open gates, then I would look back up the rugged 4wd road and panic with the jeep out of view that road was too jarring for Gabriel’s state. I would later hear from Gabriel that my charging back and force with his horse ponied behind me was an effective distraction as the road was so jarring that he was fading in and out of consciousness. Staying connected to his horse even then was vital for Gabriel. When I arrived some 90 minutes later, the emergency room staff had sedated him but were nowhere near an understanding of his injuries. Gabriel merely presented as if he had a dislocated rib and shortness of breath and was placed in the back of the cue for ER admissions. Matt and I shared the news with him, it was met with patient acceptance. An hour later the attending ER doc ordered the routine X rays to assess the damage. What happened next was like witnessing a fire alarm. Several nurses jumped to attention. The images were shared with us. It was almost impossible to count all the fractured and displaced ribs. 6 was the original count, then 8, then 10. Then wait, how many ribs do we have? How was this even possible? I saw the fall! It wasn't like he got run over by a herd of Buffalo…..wtf and the dude never even screamed. Ten broken ribs, 18 fractures, many severely displaced. I just found out that day we have 12 ribs on the left , 12 on the right. He broke almost every rib on the left side of his body, several times. ( I reflected that just earlier I had watched this guy hit the ground as he came off his horse. I rode to his side, watched him attempt to rise then fall into a crumple.) I never saw any reason to think he was so banged up internally based on his disposition after the fall. The ER team immediately identified which trauma hospital would be able to admit Gabriel. In Wyoming, every town is about 150 miles away. We would have to get him to Billings, Montana or Casper, Wyoming quick and via ambulance. But wait, before that Gabriel would need a CT scan to rule out any internal organs being compromised. We all could tell Gabriel was having difficulty breathing but we thought it was just because of the pain of broken ribs. Even lying face down in the grass, Gabriel expressed to me how he really just wanted to smoke a cigarette. We knew it was serious when he was in too much pain for his favorite light blue spirits. Worse yet, I could not get him to swallow water with Ibuprofen to help with his pain til we got him down.

Now as the CT scans came, it was evident this was going to another level. Gabriel’s broken ribs had punctured his left lung in two different places. All hands on deck now, the Bull is leaving Buffalo. Headed to the only Level 2 trauma center and largest hospital in the state by ambulance. Things really just got western and the Legend of the Bull grows. Imagine getting in the ring with Mike Tyson. Raising your arms and letting him punch at your abdomen and see how much pain you can endure. It is highly unlikely he would break every rib and puncture your lungs before you passed out and rolled out of the ring incoherently. Gabriel laid in the grass, frustrated about the interruption to his ride and video project, and tried to pull a smoke out of his breast pocket.

The other day we reminisced about the film “The Revenant”. How Leonardo Dicaprio's character Hugh Glass was mauled by a grizzly and left for dead by his buddy. Crippled, he crawled for 200 miles to the nearest fort. If Gabriel had to crawl back into the saddle that day, while I ponied his horse, he would have died of respiratory failure because of the lacerations to his lungs. Much more threatening than Hugh Glass’s injuries sustained from the grizzly. Lucky for him, we had the jeep to Buffalo and the ambulance to Casper…but the story doesn’t quite end there.

After a much needed day’s rest, we headed down to Casper to support Gabriel and his family. The trauma surgeon had scheduled surgery for the following morning to screw titanium plates to as many ribs as possible. When we arrived we encountered Gabriel sitting upright, intubated and on IV pain meds yet surprisingly lucid and clear eyed. For various reasons, he alone decided against surgery the following morning. Figuring it wasn't worth the risk, the financial expense, the pain, and the delay to recovery. His mother, myself, Juanita and several close friends at his side - none of us questioned his judgment to cancel or postpone the surgery. Only he could know what was necessary. It was impressive to all of us that Gabriel, especially with all the pain meds, intubations and x-rays, could make such a practical and informed decision for his own well being. Furthermore, at any given time there were 4 to 5 friends visiting with Gabe who was not even in his hometown. Folks that had gotten to know him and his music over the years in Casper had become close friends and showed up to support him. Everyone knew how critical the level of his condition was, so the room was full of flowers, books, journals and stacks of clean pearl snaps. All of this I expected for somebody as generous and uniquely genuine as Gabriel. What struck me then, and still sits with me as I write this recollection on his behalf, is how composed, calm and attentive Gabriel was. I later joked with him that sitting there shirtless with tubes flowing into his chest that he resembled an enlightened sage, or maybe Yoda. He had a lightness about him and he offered it to others.

That’s all I can offer right now about that day and the week following after.

Gabriel the Bull is many things.