BRAN Report: Day Four

A rainbow to start Day 4

With it having rained all night long Michael declared straight away that we were not chancing gravel due to the possibilities of bad roads. He was part of the BRAN braintrust that came up with the gravel routes, so I took a lot of stock from his statement. I would have been disappointed, but this meant I would get to ride roads that I had already ridden before. Roads I was on 31 years ago during the "Race Against Death Tour", which you can read all about by clicking the link. (There are two tours documented there.)

So, we ate a breakfast there in town and then headed out slowly, but this time it was just Jayme, Michael, and myself. Residents of Verdigre sent us off with a blessing as they said "we brought the rains" and we were welcome back anytime! Ha! Apparently it had not rained there for quite some time.

The day wouldn't be all that long and at 40 miles, it was only five miles less than the gravel route. 

We started out heading to Niobrara. This was where I met Jo back during my tour in '95 and she worked at a gas station there where we stopped for resupply. Much to my surprise, the building was still there. It was kind of a surreal feeling to look upon that place knowing I had been there once long ago. 

The day was cool-ish, overcast, but a bit breezy. Nothing terrible. We were enjoying the ride as much as possible being stuck out on the road. There was a bit of faffing around in Niobrara looking for a coffee shop but eventually we just rode onward. 

BRAN barns for Jason

The Niobrara River (Yes, the roads are pink here)

The convenience store in Niobrara I had been to 31 years before. 

After Niobrara things were pretty mundane. It was essentially a nice jaunt into Crofton, Nebraska. Michael and Jayme bailed on me and did the last gravel section after all. I did not consider it  because I had the paved route called up on my gps unit and I did not want to suffer issues when trying to shuffle back to the gravel route again. 

So, I rode into Crofton all alone on pavement. It was hilly! Fortunately the wind was not a factor. I was able to bomb the downhills and the Black Mountain Cycles MCD was stable and felt great.  

One of the final hills was a long one, much like the climbs are out this way, and I was able to hit 46.8mph, my fastest recorded speed on the trip. That was fun, actually, and not scary at all. The lack of winds probably attributed to this. 

Crofton was reached and there was an option to go North to Yankton, South Dakota and back to bag a century (100 miles) , but I was not interested especially after the day before and having been so hot. By the way, it wasn't much cooler by this point in the day either. Instead of doing the loop, I stopped at a big convenience store and grabbed something to eat quick before heading into town and to find who knows what. 

A rider munching on a burger and Fritos there told me to make sure I stopped at Crofton's "Welcome Tent" at the bottom of the hill in town and try out the milk. I thought this was a curious welcome to town, and so I checked this out. Turns out this was in the park where we were to camp as well, so this worked out just fine. 

A little something I had in the park at Crofton. This town had a great set up for us!

 The milk, as it turns out, was from Burbach's Dairy, a local farm where dairy products come out of and are distributed to many Eastern Nebraska grocers for resale. The samples in Crofton were excellent. These were regular milk, chocolate milk, orange milk, and cotton candy flavored milk. I had the orange and cotton candy flavors. Highly recommended! I'll have more to say about Burbach's tomorrow. 

I grabbed a brat and Fritos with some macaroni salad at one of the booths set up in the park and ate. Then I saw Jayme and started talking with him about the day and what we were going to do for the evening meal. We were standing by a towering cottonwood tree and the band stand was near by. There was a guitar player singing songs and a large crowd of folks were sitting in the shade enjoying the afternoon. Just then, Jayme jumped around and stifled an outburst, "What the....?"

It was raining ducks in the park at Crofton!

 A tiny duckling fell to the ground with a thud besides two others, I assumed these had also fallen to the ground. We barely had time to vocalize our disbelief when another fell, and another! Someone nearby said these were wood ducks. Where was Momma Duck?! What the heck is going on here! 

Eventually nine ducks were on the ground in two groups. One heading down the hill and the other getting closer to the tree trunk of the tree they jumped ship from. The crowd nearby was aghast and worry grew that these two groups of ducklings would be permanently separated. However; the ducklings were whistling and tweeting which was picked up on by the downhill traveling group which then made a wide arc back to join the other siblings of theirs. 

The last I saw the ducklings were all in one group, Momma Duck was spotted flying anxiously around the park, and a county conservation officer had been called. Hopefully the raining ducks of Crofton were safely reunited with Momma Duck! 

Spaghetti dinner was what was for supper that evening. I also found out we were supposed to visit the dairy farm of the Burbach's the following day. I was excited to see the cows! The tent was set up by a drainage ditch in the park which kind of separated the tent city into two parts. Fortunately no serious rains were forecast for the evening, or I'd have been more wary of the ditch than I was. 

While Crofton had an excellent set up and a wonderful welcome for the riders, there was one thing I found which was rather strange. There was no potable water for the riders in the park at all. Crofton citizens placed water coolers full of plastic water bottles near the park rest rooms for anyone to take. An okay solution, I guess, considering the circumstances, but I'd rather avoid plastic water bottles if at all possible.  Unfortunately, Crofton was not the only place where plastic bottles of water were offered like candy to riders. 

BRAN Report: Day Three

Spencer, Nebraska to Verdgre, Nebraska. Day Three and the plan was to ride the gravel route which was set to be 64.9 miles. 

a quick recap: I had two days straight of riding under my belt at approximately 120 miles total. I hadn't ridden 120 miles in two days since.....

I cannot remember when that would have ever happened. So, it stands to reason this, the restless night's sleep, and extreme heat may have had something to do with my failure to get much more than 30 miles in total for Day Three. 

We had eaten breakfast and I could tell something was off with my body. I just did not feel "right", but not in a sickness way, and this wasn't a good thing. We left town as a threesome on this day with Michael, myself, and Jacquie Phelan, who said she'd ride gravel if someone would shepherd her along. This was supposed to be me. However; it ended up being Michael instead. 

It felt very warm right away. The skies were sort of hazy, like I see in Iowa around late July or early August. It felt humid here. There was wind, but it wasn't bad. Still, the unbridled Sun was increasingly getting hotter. I mentally was feeling as though this was going to be a rough day for me. I don't do well in heat. 

The previous day's overcast skies are more my jam. Colder weather, rain even, but humidity and hot Sun wilt me, generally speaking.  I was willing, but would the body folow? I've had heat exhaustion too many times in my life and I was not looking to "go there" though. 

 

The first gravel section was fun-filled with short climbs and descents. Sweeping turns through lines of trees was a very pleasant surprise because in Iowa we just do not have roads like this. We then popped out on pavement and had to ride several miles on the route for the paved section of this day's ride until we reached the first sag stop in Lynch, Nebraska. 

On the way to Lynch and the sag stop I noted my left Ultegra lever's hood was pushing up off the lever. I knew these hoods were going bad because these were the original levers from my Raleigh Tamland Two. Yes....12 year old hoods! So, no big surprise that they were failing. 

Fortunately when I arrived in lynch our gravel sag support van from Berry Fast Cycles was there.  I asked John if he had anything for my problem. He came up with a near match, but it would require some carving with a sharp knife to get the hoods to stay put on those old levers. He did a fantastic job, and the repair held solid all the rest of the week. 

Seen at the aid/sag station for Day Three. 

John Berry working on my bike at the sag stop. 

This repair took some time, so Michael and Jacquie took off, not wanting to sit around any more. I understood, and I was hoping the rest time in the shade would help revive me. But I think I was fatigued and not rested after two big days on a bike in a row. The Sun was pounding out heat as well, and it was above 90° before noon. 

I rode out after the other two but I turned around pretty quickly. My legs were already going away and I could feel my body slipping into that heat affected mode where I did not want to go. Had this been the last day of BRAN I may have tried to push onward, but I had four more days to ride, (or so I thought), and I wasn't willing to sacrifice up to four days of riding just to finish this one day out. 

So I told John when I cam back I was done for the day. He threw my bike on his van's rack and I rode shotgun with him to Monowi, Nebraska. 

The Monowi Tavern. 

My bike loaded up on the "Meat Wagon" to get me to Verdigre. 

The Monowi Tavern is home to one resident. It is claimed to be the smallest population town in the USA. (Say "min-oh-why", by the way. It's how the locals pronounce the town name) Inside it was dark and cool, and the only lights were from a cooler with sodas and over a ramshackle kitchen sink. I purchased a Coca Cola from the lone resident of Monowi, Elsie Eiler who is 93 years old. 

John then took me to sag stop #2 and dropped me off so BRAN's route sweeper, the "Meat Wagon", could pick me up. I was at sag #2 for about a half an hour before I was collected and off on my way to Verdigre. The van was full, by the way, and the Meat Wagon was busy all afternoon hauling tired, overheated folks into the small village with a Czech heritage. 

Verdigre, Nebraska. Some of its streets are paved. Most were not. It seemed like a throwback village to an earlier era. Most villages like this in Iowa have either modernized or faded into obscurity. The campground was at the local football field. It was over 100° by this time, and the wind was relentless. Good for drying out tents. Not so good for Guitar Ted. 

This team of Percherons was the shuttle to the showers and downtown from our campgrounds. 

 In all the shuttling around after I dropped out of the day's ride I had forgotten to eat. By the time I had dried out my gear and set it up I was deep in the throes of bonking. It was so hot and windy, and my energy was ebbing. I got a shower but it did little to revive me. 

I was in a bit of trouble there for awhile. There was an old wagon there pulled by a team of Percherons outfitted in studded harnesses making this team look like 1980's era Judas Priest heavy metal rockers. These horses belonged to an Amish man on the wagon. His faded blue denim bibs were matched by the color of his eyes peering out from under the brim of a straw hat. I asked him about the team and he said they were two of 26 horses he owned and farmed with. He exclaimed that these two draft horses which were pulling us around were "getting a day off" as this was easy work compared to the field work they were accustomed to. 

The clip-clop pace of the wagon suited my fazed demeanor well, and I actually rode the wagon for about an hour. Afterward I wandered around Verdigre until I came across a Czech bakery. It looked neat and tidy. Inside it was clean and sharp looking. There were traditional Czech baked goods for sale including kolaches with about a dozen fillings you could choose from.

 

Two kolaches and a Coke. 

Those pastries and the Coke revived me and set me aright. Then I was human again. Amazing what eating can do for a person. At any rate, now I was ready to go and search for Michael and Jayme to see what we were going to do about the evening meal. 

Jayme got most of the way in before BRAN matters took him off the course. Michael and Jacquie made it quite a bit further into the gravel course, but ended up sagging in as well. No shame! It was a brutal day out there! 

The Czech Hall in Verdigre was rocking on Day Three of BRAN

 We ended up hitting the prime rib/baked potato dinner at Verdigre's Czech hall for our evening meal. It was packed when Jayme and I arrived and we had to wait in a long line., But it moved fairly quickly and we had plenty to eat. Michael sowed up a little later and I think it was on this evening when I discovered Michael is a bit of a cookie/desert freak. 

While we were finishing up our meals a rumor started to circulate amongst the riders that we would have to evacuate the campground due to an oncoming complex of thunder storms. Confusion over how to handle baggage was part of this, but eventually it all got sorted out. The final call would be the rider's. You could stay and ride it out in your tent or evacuate to one of three buildings in Verdigre. I chose to ride it out. 

In the end, it was just another Mid-Western thunderstorm with lightning and a few heavy downpours. My tent held up nicely, (hooray!), and I eventually got to sleep around midnight when the storms trailed off to our North. 

I was anxious to get back on gravel again, but this rain, and how much fell on our course, might impact what we would do the following day. Check in tomorrow for the Day Four report to see what happened.

BRAN Report: Day Two

Passing by the Berry Fast Cycles van on our way out on Day 2

The weather flip-flopped from the day before. Now we had overcast skies and a tailwind. This was good because this was the longest gravel route for the week at 74 miles. 

The gravel started right from the edge of town. I guess I shouldn't have been shocked by this, but it was noticeable for me. This road and all the rest for the day were mostly sand with little crushed rock to speak of at all. That said, they were not mushy or really loose. Washboard? That is another story. I'll get around to this later in this post. 

We had two breakfasts on this day. A little something in Spingview with pancakes and syrup in the High School there, and further down the road we were looking forward to breakfast burritos again at a rural church. We were a four man group with Michael, Jayme, Carl, the young kid mentioned yesterday, and myself. 

Michael, left, and Carl. Notice the riser stem on Carl's bicycle. 

Carl was riding a bicycle which not only was a hybrid, and an entry level one at that with Acera components, but a bike he was given by his parents in eighth grade. Carl is now 18, and stands about 6'2" tall. Yes, his set up looked goofy, but ya know what? He made that thing go, and go, and go. 

The routes were designed in such a way that riders could access amenities or get off gravel at certain points.

 

The church where we had breakfast burritos.

The route designers for BRAN gravel were Jayme and Michael. They aimed to give riders every chance to access sag stops on the road, and purposefully criss-crossed the paved route to allow riders to jump on gravel or exit gravel so you did not have to get stuck doing gravel all day if that was not your bag. 

Big views. Empty spaces.

These three eventually motored away from me, but I had my Wahoo susssed out, so I was all good. 

The gravel for Day 2 of BRAN 44 was laid out in three sections connected by pavement which the paved riders would be using. We had finished the first section together, but on the second section the other three eventually puled away from me. 

I was fine with this as the Wahoo was doing what it was supposed to be doing after I shut down the Auto Rerouting feature. Auto reroute. Isn't that supposed to be a feature and not a bug? Honestly, I have no use for that feature, especially if it makes the route finding all funky like it does. 

The Keya Paha County maintainer saves the day!

A nice, fresh cut made everything smoother!

We had entered the second section of gravel when we found all sorts of washboarding all the way across the roadway. The sand was looser here as well, which made for more difficult travel. But the we spotted a savior. The County Maintainer!

I noted the operator had the blade taking off about six inches of the roadway as he motored past me which I found really weird. But again, these roads are not anything like Iowa's gravel roads, so I cannot expect them to be maintained the same way. I do know after I passed him I hopped right on over to the freshly cut road bed which was super-smooth.  

I stopped to swap out water bottles and this ranch truck passed me by in a cloud of dust. 

Bagged a cemetery gate.

Nebraska has been in severe or moderate drought conditions for some time now, so it was no surprise to see dust getting kicked up by various "ranch trucks" which passed me by on this day. Now, I call these trucks by that name because I don't know what the local vernacular is for these vehicles. But I have seen the same style truck in New Mexico in the High Plains so I think "ranch truck" fits. 

Typically these are diesel 3/4's ton pickups with standard cabs and a flat bed instead of a box. I imagine they haul hay better this way. At any rate, they are a distinctive working truck style I've only ever seen in cattle grazing and ranching lands. 

 

This is a big, open, desolate area. It is so unlike Iowa. Hardly any crossing roads at all. Hardly any buildings to break up the horizon line. I think the trees were not a part of these lands back a hundred or more years ago, but they are out here all over the place now. I would imagine this would have been all tall grass prairie until the people of European descent arrived. 

The hills are very different than they are here as well. Our Iowa hills give no false impressions, typically. If you can see what looks like the top of a hill, likely it is just that. Not so in Nebraska. Hills are longer. The climbs have false summits. Sometimes up to four in succession. And it was this way everywhere we rode in Nebraska. 

Another cemetery!

And another!

Eventually I climbed all the gravel hills and was back out on pavement for the final run to Spencer, Nebraska where we were to stay for the evening. But first we ran through a tiny village named Butte, Nebraska, very near to the border with South Dakota. This was the very town we rode through on our self-contained cycle tour 31 years before. 

Proof

 You know something? 31 years allows for a LOT of changes to happen. I did not recognize much. And the road to Spencer seemed different, but I know it wasn't. At any rate, it was amazing to lay eyes on the same places I had been in before and note how much I did not pay attention to back then. 

Jacquie gave me this personalized and autographed post card of herself with the late Charlie Cunningham the evening I met her. 

As mentioned in the "Notes From The Tent" for this day I ran into Jacquie Phelan by chance in Spencer. I was floored to see this famous cyclist in Nebraska in a small village no less. But, there she was.  Little did I realize Jacquie would play a large role in my experiences for the remainder of the week. 

Set up camp in a grassy field overlooking a larger field of prairie.I settled in for a very restless night's sleep. This may have been a factor which made the followin day what it was. But we'll have to hold that story for tomorrow...... 

BRAN Report: Day One

Pork Belly Adventures hauled our gear all week long

Well! That was a week and no doubt about it, one I won't be forgetting. The BRAN 44 ride is over, and I'm back at the wheel here in Guitar Ted Headquarters. This entire week I will be sharing more - mostly images - of the week long trip. There will be a little overlap with my journaling from last week in my "Notes From The Tent" series. I hope you will forgive this bit of double-story telling when it happens. 

I took notes almost everyday but for the last two, so I have hopefully not forgotten much. And yes.....there are things I won't be sharing. Either these were "you had to be there" things, they were personal matters, or confidential conversations. This will be mostly focused on BRAN, why you should consider it, and Nebraska as a gravel rider's destination spot for some fantastic riding. 

Any related "Notes From The Tent" will be linked for reference. 

Okay! That's enough of the introductory stuff. Let's dive into this trip. Four and a half hours on my own to get to Arlington, Nebraska. Then it was five and a half hours by tour bus to get to Valentine, Nebraska. And I wasn't even as far West in Nebraska as I could go! Not by a long shot. The two-day trip was fine, really. I did not get very good sleep in my Toyota 4Runner in Arlington, but at least I did not have to unpack, set up camp, and pack up again the next day. 

The busses stopped in O'Neal, Nebraska so we could eat and stretch our legs. 

Someone commented last week about my reference to how it seemed several riders on the bus and with BRAN 44, (not the staff though!) had "grossly misunderstood gravel" and the commenter wanted me to expand on this thought. So, here we go....

First of all, we all have some entrenched opinions and cycling is no different. Most BRAN riders are roadies. The desire to ride gravel roads does not compute with them in the first place. There is some agreement on the traffic issue and how gravel has less of this. However; from that point on it becomes something of a novelty subject for these folks. 

Worse yet, some spout off "knowledge" on gravel which is way, way off from reality. I'm not sure where this comes from, but this is mostly what I was referring to when I said gravel was grossly misunderstood. The bicycles, tubeless tires, the events, and how one even rides gravel were all topics I heard being discussed which had people putting forth such nonsense as truth it was amazing. I was not there to educate the masses, but my goodness! Cycling media is not coming through to these people with good information at all. Where these folks get information is anyone's guess, but wherever the source is, or from whomever it is coming from, is way outta whack. 

Nuff said.....

The tent is unfurled in Valentine, Nebraska

So, this is a camping trip, yes.....but with benefits. Pork Belly Adventures is contracted by BRAN to assist the riders in carrying their gear from town to town. But there is more they offer at BRAN. They have a recharging station which is critical for any modern day citizen, not to mention any cyclist. Your devices can get that needed recharge daily. Not only that, but e-Bikers also can recharge batteries at the recharging trailer as well. 

Probably the swankiest option Pork Belly offers are their "mobile hotel rooms". I'd liken these to bunk houses. But they have A/C, electrical power, and privacy. If you opt for these bunk houses you don't have to pack up or unpack your gear daily or set up a tent. Nice!

Pork Belly also has daily morning coffee for free, and a tent rental option if you do not have your own tent. 

Our first host town was Valentine, Nebraska, right in the Sand Hills area of Nebraska. It is a pretty cool little city. One thing I noted was the high schools we saw were all new-ish, spotless, and very nice inside with water bottle stations, modern HVAC systems, and super nice auditoriums and gymnasiums. Obviously Nebraska puts resources into their schools!  

Michael plotting on how he will obtain his next cookie. 

The BRAN staff couldn't have been kinder or more helpful to me. I stated when I was writing up my final post before this trip that I was "going alone". Well, that being alone did not last very long as BRAN staffers Jayme Frye and Michael Kolakowski took me under their wing and adopted me as a part of the gravel riders of BRAN without hesitation. But it wasn't just me. They treated every rider this way, and to be honest, this was most impressive. BRAN is a very welcoming ride, and despite its current make-up of mostly white, older folks, I feel it would be a very good ride for anyone, no matter their gender or race. The staff of BRAN would go out of their way to make anybody feel welcomed, and I know this for fact. 

There was a pre-ride meeting in the Valentine high school auditorium which was great for information about the week and what to expect. Plus they held a sponsor raffle and gave away some nice prizing. The atmosphere was relaxed and fun. Now I was really excited to get out there and ride. 

Then it was off to bed and an early rise. I think I was ready earlier on the first day than any subsequent day of BRAN. It wasn't that I didn't try to get ready quickly, but for whatever reason, the first day was the PR for getting camp broken down and packed away.  

Riders gathered at the First Baptist Church of Valentine for breakfast burritos. 

 I tanked up with a great breakfast burrito at a local church, the same place we had eaten the evening before, and then we were off. The pavement was smooth but we were not on it long before we dove off to the right into the Niobrara Grasslands and the Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge. We were warned about bison the day before, but they seemed to be elsewhere in the refuge as we did not come across any on our ride. Bummer! 

We did come across some spectacular scenery though, and one major climb that had me walking the top third of its ascent out of the Niobrara River Valley. It was brutal! 

Michael leading us out of town on Highway 12, The Outlaw Trail. 

Not bad for a view, eh? We were just getting started. 

It was in the first section of gravel where I first met Carl. He is an 18 year old from Pierce, Nebraska, and on his second BRAN. He came out with his elder sister to ride for the week. Carl is a Type 1 diabetic, and he had to be super-disciplined to keep tabs on his blood sugar levels, but he never let any of that get in his way of having fun and an adventure. This young man has grit too. He was riding a Trek hybrid bike, again showing the world that any bike you like could be a "gravel bike". Maybe more cycling companies should take notice of this...... 

A cattle guard shows us we were about to enter the wildlife refuge. No bison sighted on this day however. 

 

But the views made up for it, I thought. 

The road we were on showed many signs of bicycle travel which got Jayme and Michael excited. They were hoping to see more gravel riders than they had in the past. The story was this "gravel" part of BRAN was borne out of BRAN staffer's desire to ride more adventurous terrain and see different things.. Last year BRAN opened things up to anyone on BRAN to try the gravel routes, but there was no support. This year they were able to acquire the services of John Berry of Berry Fast Cycles out of Madison, South Dakota. So we had sag support all week long, and we were very well taken care of, by the way. 

We spotted this little water fall from a bridge over the Niobrara River. 

A shot looking back down the climb out of the Niobrara River Valley. I'm about 2/3rds of the way up here. 

You know, we just do not have steep, long climbs around here. I'm not sure I could have prepared myself for this particular climb anyway, so I shouldn't be so hard on myself. But yeah..... That was a brutal ascent. I'm thinking it was Jayme who said he saw 16% on his GPS for incline. I just know this climb was steep and went on a long ways. 

I was not too proud to walk some of the top of this climb either. It was one of maybe two times I wished my gearing was lower, although on Day 1, I have to wonder if it would have mattered anyway. By the time I did manage to reach a spot to remount and ride, Michael and Jayme were long gone. It was fine.. I figured on seeing them later on in the day, perhaps. 

The Sand Hills region is made up of grass-stabilized sand dunes. 

 One thing I did see manifested in front of me as I walked up that big climb was an example of a grass-stabilized sand dune. The Sand Hills are known for this top layer of grass and detritus which holds the sand underneath it in place and prevents the dunes from moving with the prevailing winds too much. There is movement though! I witnessed sand being driven down a gravel road like snow in Winter across Iowa's roads. 

Sparks, Nebraska. Basically this building is all that's left and it is an outfitter for river floats. 

 Eventually there was to be a spot to get water and a bit of food at a place called "Sparks", which I had zero knowledge of other than it was "out there". I either read my GPS incorrectly or was directed Left instead of Right but after a quarter mile of seeing nothing I turned around and then found Sparks immediately where I had turned Left. I should have turned Right!

I resupplied, got a bathroom break in, and cooled down in the A/C. When I left, the Wahoo kept directing me in circles around the Sparks parking lot and street area. It was weird! I was knowledgeable enough to know Highway 12 East would get me to Springview, but other than this, I was clueless. I just decided to bail and take the pavement into the next overnight town.  

BRAN Barns For Jason

Then about two miles down the road the GPS squawked and wanted me to take a gravel road South. I knew the second gravel loop went South of 12, so I hesitantly took a chance. See, the wind had come in strong from the South and I would have a heavy headwind taking this turn, but I did it anyway. Two miles down the road I was prompted to turn right again, and the next cue after this was another right to......Sparks!?

Nope! Not buying that. I decided the Wahoo was a liar and I was going back to hop on to Highway 12 which I knew was a route. So much for that GPS nonsense! And I chewed on that as I sailed back Northward. (Later I learned from commenters on this blog it was due to the Auto Rerouting Feature and that I should turn it off, which I did. Thanks!)

Where I turned back after making a wrong turn to Sparks.

Lots of empty spaces out here near Springview, Nebraska.

I eventually latched onto three recumbent riders and used them to pace me most of the way back into Springview. There was an aid station stop, which was greatly appreciated. Then a few miles out of Springview there was a bunch of citizens trying to raise money to put up a sign at a local rural cemetery. They had some tasty, cold watermelon to eat plus some other goodies. 

The route for the day was 57.3 miles for gravel or 48 miles if you stuck to pavement. I figure I had something in between with my extra "bonus miles" and half the gravel section. 

So, if you aren't glamping with Pork Belly Adventures, you get to schlep your own gear after a hard day's ride! Yay!. (I think) I carried my heavy duffel bag and messenger bag to a good spot on Springview High School's grass and set up my abode for the evening. Then it was shower time at Pork Belly Adventures' Shower Truck, which anyone on BRAN can use. Once cleaned up I headed out to a fine spaghetti dinner at the local firehouse.  

'Merica

 And then it was time to SLEEP. In a tent with ambient temperatures hovering in the 70's. Nice.... 

More coming tomorrow on Day Two of Bran.