BRAN Epilogue

BRAN 44 was an interesting experience for me personally. I was in need of a distraction coming into Summer. This provided the perfect antidote to just slowly approaching some anniversary dates and ruminate on loss. 

But my mission on this gig was to spread the word about BRAN and specifically their gravel offering. So, I wanted to tie that thought up here as I do have some views on BRAN, Nebraska in general, and what opportunities await those who want to check out gravel roads out in a state with a very misunderstood story.

I think my recap shows, if nothing else, the vast variety of scenes and terrain types Nebraska has on offer. Of course, this particular BRAN route ran along the Niobrara River, the Missouri River, and cut down across Eastern Nebraska near the end of the route. It is but a small slice of what Nebraska has to offer the adventurous gravel rider. 

So, if you wanted to experience the Great Plains, or rural farmland, or both, Nebraska has this. I know from experience in West Central Nebraska that there are canyons and wide expanses of grasslands dotted with ranches and farms with amazing views. BRAN actually moves its route every year, so it would be worth keeping an eye on their site to see where they take things next year. 

One thing I thought about BRAN, and which we touched upon in the "Bran Recap" on the Guitar Ted Podcast, was how BRAN could serve as a bike packing test ground for anyone considering Tour Divide, or other bike packing adventures. The way BRAN creates the gravel routes helps provide bail-out opportunities. Considering Pork Belly Adventures support, one could even leverage the baggage cartage as a way to provide relief if needed. 

BRAN also provides many ways to consume the event. Besides the choices between paved and road routes, you can choose other options. You can do one, two, three days, the whole week, or become a volunteer and ride a couple of days as well. There are so many ways to get your toes dipped into the event it is fascinating to consider the possibilities. 

From an event production standpoint it was evident to me that BRAN is striving to evolve and become the best it can possibly be. This is all based on volunteers who are passionate about the ride. I don't think it can be stressed enough how no one is making bank off this ride. To my way of thinking, this means those who are working the aid stations, creating the routes, doing the heavy lifting behind the scenes, and dotting "I's" and crossing "T's" really care.  I believe if you were to go on BRAN in 2027, you'd quickly see and feel this passion. BRAN folks care about the ride and the riders. Period, end of story. 

BRAN provides a unique experience due to its size as well. You never get the feeling you are overwhelmed, or unseen on BRAN due to large crowds or lack of being able to connect with other riders. It's rather easy to disappear into the blur of the human circus in Iowa the last week of July doing "that ride", and perhaps this is what you like. But if something a bit more intimate and less stressful is your bag, you should check out BRAN.

The gravel bit is great. I loved all of it, but difficulties and adventure is what I feel make gravel unique and a better option than pavement. Your mileage may vary. But I think this is a big reason why gravel appeals to so many riders. 

Now, BRAN is far from perfect. I think they know this as well. I think the average age of riders is creeping upward, just like it is for many events I am aware of on gravel and pavement. This is concerning overall and for rides like BRAN, it is vital that they figure out a way to reverse the trend. I also feel BRAN, and other rides as well, could be more diverse. But you cannot make people want to ride BRAN, or other rides. You have to present a package which is appealing and attractive. I think BRAN has a lot of what they need to be successful, but how this shakes out in the future is anyone's guess now. 

Hopefully my shining a light on this event will help. 

Now comes the big question: Would I do BRAN again? 

My answer is a qualified "Yes". I would do this ride again if I could take some other folks along to join me. I would do it again if it made financial sense at the time for me personally. I would do it again if I could find a way to integrate Mrs. Guitar Ted into the week's events. So, maybe it would all work out. I do know the ride is worth the money BRAN asks for it. No question about it. This is a killer value. There are ways to do it piecemeal if a whole week is too much. So you do have options, as discussed above. 

Ironically my favorite day of BRAN 44 was the day we rode the worst gravel, which was the day from Crofton to Wayne. That day was so fun, challenging, and had surprises along the way which kept me engaged and wanting more. My second favorite day was Springview to Spencer because the scenery was so different than anything I get around here. 

So, if BRAN could cook up another banger of a gravel route I'd be all-in, if the rest of my life was at a place that it would work. I think anyone who likes gravel riding should seriously consider this ride over something like, say, Unbound, which could cost you around the same amount of money overall. You'd get seven days versus one, and more experiences than you could ever imagine.  

I'm sure I am leaving some things out here, so if there are any questions or comments, feel free to chime in on the comment section. I always read all the comments and answer any questions presented there. 

Thanks for reading. Tomorrow will be the BRAN Gear Review. 

BRAN Report: Day Seven

A Sunrise in Oakland, Nebraska on Day Seven of BRAN 44

The last day of BRAN! What was supposed to be a quick, short run into Arlington, Nebraska of 34.7 miles turned into chaos. Weather reared its ugly head and what I thought would happen was the furthest thing from what actually happened. 

Per BRAN's urgings the evening before I was up before 5:00am and scuffling off to the porta-jon and to grab a cup of java to jump start my systems. On my way to fill water bottles I saw BRAN staff hurriedly moving through the camp and word spread quickly that thunderstorms were moving in from the Southwest which would have severe possibilities and at the least, lots of lightning. We were told to pack up as quick as possible and head inside Oakland High School.  

Fortunately Oakland citizens had planned an onsite breakfast so we did not have to go far for some biscuits and gravy. I sat munching my morning's fare wondering where this would end up. There was still hope we'd get to ride, but it would be later in the morning. Michael and Jayme informed me gravel was off the menu and IF we got to ride it would be pavement. 

With my baggage in the truck, I took my bicycle inside the high school, as did many others, and waited to see what might happen. Time slipped on and my gut was telling me this ride was probably over. 

Instead of a bicycle, I rode a high school bus to Arlington, Nebraska

 Inside the school word spread of some riders who dared to take off and try to beat the storms. They were pinned down in a small village between Oakland and Arlington and reporting heavy rain and lightning. Rain was falling in Arlington as well. Jayme then showed me a smoking field where a lightning strike from cloud to ground occurred which had been sent in by a rider minutes beforehand. I was convinced riding was out of the question. 

But what would BRAN do? I was standing near Jacquie Phelan and Michael when a BRAN staffer made an announcement that school busses would ferry us to Arlington while Pork Belly Adventures would transport our gear and bikes there as well. Jacquie looked around at us all and said, "Well, I guess this is farewell then Toodle-loo!". 

On the way to Arlington

 I walked out immediately, saw a buss pulling in, and when it stopped I hopped onboard. About 20 minutes later we were bouncing down a paved highway toward the end of BRAN. 

Once again I was alone. My thoughts were a mess. I cried. I felt sad. I wanted to get in my 4Runner and go home. This wasn't how this ride was supposed to end. Then I straightened up and a woman across the aisle from me offered to share the gravel rider's images we participated in at Oakland the evening before. BRAN invited all who took part of any of the gravel routes to be a part of a group photo. The woman was kind to share this with me, as I had no idea where the images resided at the time. 

The 2026 "Gravel Class" of BRAN 44

 Eventually we rolled into the Washington County Fairgrounds and I saw what a mess the dirt roads had become. It was a place swimming in sticky, gooey mud. I saw where Pork Belly had dumped out the baggage so I went and fetched my bags and slogged them over a couple hundred yards of wet, sticky mud to my 4Runner. By the time I reached my vehicle my feet looked like mud clown shoes. 

I tried to dress in street clothes and eventually decided I needed to just throw open the side doors, step in between them, and undress and dress like we used to do at XC races in the 1990's. Frankly, I didn't care who looked. I just wanted out of my kit and into the clothes I would be driving home in. 

 I had some cookies in the truck, so I "toasted" Michael, The Cookie King Of BRAN, and ate them. 

 

Eventually the bikes arrived and...... That was the end. 

Pork Belly arrived with the bikes a little before noon. By 12:30pm I was off to drive about 5 hours home. BRAN was over, just like that. 

It was not how anyone envisioned it to end, and it was a bit of a bummer. But I was ready to get home to my family, to rest up, and savor the week I just experienced. Of course, I was, and still am very grateful for the experience. A once-in-a-lifetime trip. I won't forget it. 

With the seventh day covered I will now do an epilogue for the event tomorrow.. The following day I will post my gear review of what worked, and what did not work. Then the BRAN coverage will come to a close with the possible exception of a podcast episode.  

Thanks for checking this recap out. I appreciate you readers more than you know.  

BRAN Report: Day Six

You go on with yer bad self then!

Day 6 of BRAN. Nearing the end of a week chock full of experiences and memories already, I awoke inside the cozy confines of one of Pork Belly Adventures' bunk houses made from a converted semi tractor trailer. The day would be shorter, only 53 miles, and would end up on another high school lawn, just like where it all started in Valentine. 

It was one of those mornings where, despite getting a head start due to my not having to break camp, we still didn't get going very early. Part of this was due to where we stopped for breakfast in Wayne. 

Michael and Jayme had been hankering for a "real" coffee stop for a few days now and Wayne offered a great option or two, probably having to do with it being a college town. We made our way down Main Street to HIS Bakery, a nice shop with really great coffee products and breakfast items on their menu. On this day it would be a foursome: Matt, Michael, Jayme, and myself. 

Looking pretty yummy here!

It was a hot day with no clouds and little wind to speak of. 

This bakery had a menu item called a "Kickin' Chicken Burrito". Now, I had been all about burritos for breakfast all week. So, my choice was an obvious one. The other guys got pastries or just coffee. Man.... Gotta fuel up when you get the chance, is what I'm thinking here, so I wondered about their choices a bit. 

We were there a while and now I was sure we were - once again - the tail end of the BRAN riders. No big deal. Michael even remarked how he was starting to see how the laid back, take it easier approach was perhaps a better way to ride BRAN than the typical rush to get to the next town and sit around way many folks employed as a tactic for the tour. 

Discussing options for the route with John from Berry Fast Cycles. 

This here road ain't big nuff fer the both of us!

Once we left Wayne, Nebraska I was struck immediately by how firm and fast the gravel was South of town versus how loose and shifty it was coming into town the day before. I thought it would be very loose, like it was to the North, but not so. Weird. At any rate, it was far superior riding in terms of gravel quality. I was pleased. 

We met John Berry early into the day and he reported the gravel was a bit shiftier a few miles ahead. Jayme and Michael conferred with each other and decided we should take a minimum maintenance dirt road they were aware of over to the paved route and go the three or four paved miles into Pender instead of chancing us running into loose gravel again. But before this we had a ways to go....

A good sign

 

This MMR was a bit rutted, but great to ride on. 

We had good gravel for quite a while though and we found some nice lines to ride. A MMR which started in shade had me a bit sketched out for a moment as I couldn't see anything and it was steeply pitched downhill. But I came out okay.   

 

Michael smiling about our alternative choice in routing.

The alternative route to Pender up the MMR and down on a paved road worked great and we think we avoided some looser gravel, at least this is what John Berry led us to believe. What we did not avoid was closed local businesses to eat at. Plus, there was debate about timing. Some felt it was too early and we should go to Bancroft. we ended up at a Cubies Convenience store where I had a quick bite to eat. 

There were a few impressive buildings in Pender, which this being but one example.

 

My Cubbies 'Big Dog' wasn't so big afterall. It was okay though. 

Ten more miles to Bancroft and hopefully a rest stop. It was as hot as it was the day I sagged in now and I was dogging it. However; I had ridden myself into better shape than I was on Day Three so I was holding my own. This was a good sign I was riding well and I was hopeful I would retain some of this fitness once I got back to Iowa. 

An old bridge heading out of Pender. 

Note the washboard in the road.bed. 

Between Pender and Bancroft I was catching up to the group as they waited at the top of a hill at a point we were to make a right hand turn. I tried unclipping my left foot but the pedal would not disengage and I fell heavily on my left elbow, hip, and knee. I bloodied my elbow and we had to stop for for a while to clean me up. I took my bandana off and Michael tied it around my left elbow to keep any blood from trickling down my arm. 

A bit of a scare there, but no real harm done. I think my spring was binding due to all the dry grit and sand we had been riding through all week so far. At any rate, the pedal worked fine after this!  Wouldn't you know it?

Getting the side eye in Bancroft.

 Bancroft proved to be a bust as well, so.....another ten miles to Lyons! Of we went in the heat and we pushed ourselves to get to Lyons and see what we could drum up for a place to stop and eat at. It was kind of ironic that Lyons was only about 7 or 8 miles from our overnight town of Oakland, but seeing as how hot it was, riding another ten was better than riding 17 or 18 miles to a rest! 

When we arrived in Lyons we were in between lunch hours and dinner hours, so nothing was open.....again! We happened to be standing in front of a Mexican restaurant when a young man popped his head out of the door and invited us in to cool down. That is when we discovered the ice cream and sodas which revived us and sent us flying into Oakland a little less worse for the wear. 

Michael posing by the town sign on the North end of Oakland, Nebraska. 

The run in to Oakland was along a busy highway and was not real pleasant, but once we were in town, it was all good. The high school was set up well to welcome us in and I set up camp and showered before we set off to find some grub. A shuttle van took us to downtown Oakland to a bar and grill which was serving prime rib and baked potatoes. I think our late arrival prompted the man cutting the meat to give me a double portion. It was good. I did not complain. 

Nightfall came with a directive from BRAN to plan on getting out of Oakland and into Arlington by noon the next day. There was to be a "goodbye feast" and then everyone would go their own ways. 

Or so we thought when we went to sleep.

BRAN Report: Day Five

Preparing to bug out of Crofton, Jayme (L) and Carl

The weather for BRAN was flip-flopping day to day, or so it would seem. Day Four was a Sunny, breezy day while Day Five kicked things off with rain, overcast skies, and eventually a stiff Northwest wind. Fortunately for BRAN riders this would mostly be a tailwind into Wayne, Nebraska, our most populous overnight town of the trip. 

A bit of a footnote here. The BRAN staffers riding the tour with me were offered a bunk house with Pork Belly Adventures because a roomer had to leave the BRAN ride and the room would be empty otherwise the remainder of the week. 

Jayme and Michael tried to convince me to stay with them in the bunk house but I refused saying to them that my snoring would keep them awake at night and I did not want to put them through that. 

So, a compromise was arranged where Jayme got the first night, and I would get the second in Wayne. Michael would get the third night in Oakland, and this would close out the week. So, at the end of Day Five I would not have to set up a tent! This was getting to be a better day as time went on!

Jayme rolling by a church in Fordyce, Nebraska.

This day marked a turning point in our week of riding. Now we were heading mainly South. We were solidly in Eastern Nebraska now. The wide empty spaces of the Great Plains were giving way to more row crop farming with some cattle grazing going on in lush, green pastures. The gravel was sandier and looser on this day. I rode almost the entire day right on the margin between the grass leading to the ditch and the road as this was where the least washboard was and the firmest gravel was. 

The "grid" of roads was in force here. Now the gravel route ran parallel to the road route in many places, being only a mile off pavement. We traveled in the cardinal directions now - North, South, East, or West, and curved roads were few and far between. 

Row crop farming was broken up by the occasional pasture with beef cattle grazing. 

 

And then it started raining!

Over the past couple of days of BRAN Michael would ask me in the morning if I thought he needed a rain coat. Well, I had told him I thought the rains had passed and on this morning he would not need one. Guess what? It rained. So much for my future as a weather prognosticator! 

The rain did not last long. Maybe 20 minutes. We were in a hilly stretch of the course and I actually liked the light rain. Cool, wet weather does not bother me and my body operates well in it. Maybe I should move to the U.K...... Right... 

 

BRAN Barns For Jason

After a bit of these wet, rolling hills we came into Hartington, Nebraska. This was one of the largest pass through towns on BRAN, if not the largest of all. There were a lot of folks buzzing around in cars and trucks here doing their morning business. The paved ride and gravel ride routes overlapped here, so at the Casey's Convenience Store there were a lot of cyclists going in and out. 

I went in and grabbed a small bite to eat with an eye toward being at Burbach's Dairy in a little while. Michael came out with cookies (BIG surprise) and after hee-hawing with a few riders we were off. Well, until Jayme and Michael saw a local roadside food stand and pulled off again. And guess what? The kind folks there had COOKIES. So you know Michael had to buy more! 

The locals in Hartington snared Michael in with cookies. Not a difficult task, by the way!

 

We had to ride the rolling hills to get to Burbach's Dairy farm. 

We had hill after hill climb to get to Burbach's Dairy farm. There was a nice stretch of minimum maintenance road with dirt so smooth it was better than pavement. But then it was back to shifty, loose pea gravel/sandy gravel roads. Descents were sketchy sometimes due to these road conditions.

Eventually we made the turn-off to Burbach's and saw a few smiling faces riding back toward us. I will admit this was something I was really excited about. I haven't been on a working dairy farm in decades. All my relatives were dairy farmers when I was a kid. Well....almost all of them were. The memories of those days were brought back to the forefront as we turned up the Burbach's driveway. 

The Burbach's use Holsteins and Jersey-Holstein crosses for the herd.

The Burbach's dog, April, wasn't too keen on me taking her picture! 

Inside the dairy we got more samples of milk and a tour of their processing and bottling facility. Outside we were allowed to get up close and personal with the members of the Burbach's herd. The smells of cows, straw, and whatnot were so familiar to me. I really enjoyed this stop, and I think everyone in our group did as well. 

However; we had many miles to cover to get to Wayne. Jacquie Phelan was in a big hurry to get to a massage appointment, (yes- there is a massage therapist on BRAN which you can pay to get a massage), and so she split at the next paved connection to save her time. Meanwhile we had to deal with a passing cold front and heavy Northwest winds which accompanied it. 

Taking a short break after a long climb

The skies started to clear up after the cold front went through and the wind, a quartering tailwind, was helpful as it pushed us along. The gusts were a bother on fast downhills though. At 30+ mph on shifty gravel a little sideways push is very disconcerting! Plus, a good line through the mush was often hard to find. This killed momentum and there were more than a few times I cussed out the roads for sucking the fun out of a fast downhill. 

Entering Coleridge, Nebraska

Time for some grub. I'll have the Special!

We hit up a local bar and grill for some lunch in Coleridge. After resting a bit we had to get up and hit the gravel roads again. It was warming up, the winds were still gusty, and the gravel was still loose. This would be the most difficult gravel to ride for the entire week. 

We had 30 miles yet to cover with one more pass-through town eleven miles up the road. We'd heard from our Berry Fast gravel sag support that we were likely the last BRAN riders which would ride into Wayne for the day. 

Jayme gives a wave to a local farmer working the fields.

We came across a mower doing the ditch edging. 

Not long after Coleridge and Laurel were in our rearview mirrors, the weather turned hot. The winds were still brisk, and it was harder to keep hydrated. Fortunately all of us had enough water to get by on for the remainder of the ride. 

What we did not know was that there was one more surprise for the day and it was a really fun one as well. Jayme and Michael, being the route creators, probably knew about this, but the others had no clue. Oh! I did not mention the others. We had another BRAN volunteer in Matt Steele join us. Matt had done Trans Iowa before and was a great rider. We also had the young man named Carl from Pierce Nebraska still with us also. 

Our group, minus myself, for this Day Five afternoon grave adventure. 

 

This MMR led to a chance encounter I won't soon forget. 

Jayme led us onto a nice double track minimum maintenance road. In the distance, I could pick out a decrepit old iron bridge. Not a big one, but it looked pretty crusty nonetheless. Hovering on a steel pole above the threshold to the bridge was a square rectangular steel sign. Not a County issued warning sign, but a crudely painted warning which had a very simple message. 

Those rebellious gravel riders!

Michael Kolakowski poses and gets one for the album.

The sign simply said "NO". I laughed out loud. I've seen a lot out in the country, but this was a new one on me. The bridge decking was missing in spots, so we had to take care in crossing here. Plus the opposite approach was weed-covered and even worse than the side we entered upon. 

Shortly after our arrival, a small ATV with an older gentleman zoomed up, stopped, and with a smile asked how we were doing. It turned out to be the landowner of the farmland surrounding us. His name is Steve. Steve knew a lot about this bridge and the road leading to and from it. 

Steve showed us on the bridge frame where names had been etched into the old paint with rocks years ago by youngsters with nothing better to do. One of those boys was Steve's father, Paul. Steve figured he was around seven years old when he etched his name into the then fairly new paint of this bridge. 

Steve's father had been born in a farmhouse within sight of the bridge. Steve pointed to a clump of trees about a quarter mile away where a house still stood surrounded by those trees. Steve said he lived about 3/4's of a mile away, just over a hill to the West. The road we were on? The county had to put it in for Steve to be able to access his fields after the bridge was decommissioned. Steve said the condition of the deck was as we saw it due to youths coming by and pulling up the loose planks to throw into Butler Creek below. 

Hooligans! 

You could still see the names etched into the girder after probably 100+ years. 

 

Steve speaking with Jayme on the decommissioned bridge

Time came to say goodbye to Steve and carry on with our trip to Wayne, Nebraska. What a treat that was though! It probably ranks right up there with some of my best experiences on gravel. In fact, come to think of it, this was my favorite day of the BRAN trip, and it was only going to get better! But first, I had to drag myself over more steep rollers and down some nasty, loose descents to get to Wayne. 

That's corn growing up in the middle of this dirt road.

The climbs were long and the gravel was difficult

Along the way, as I was winching myself up yet another steep, long ascent, I heard Carl behind me yelping about something. I did not understand what he was saying as the wind was blowing and his cries were not terribly alarming. He was still moving, so....? I turned and kept working up the hill. 

As we crested the others were waiting. Turns out Carl had a bloody nose. Some of the others had some tissues and they shared them with Carl. He plugged one of his nostrils up and we were back at it again.  I was a little alarmed by this, seeing as Carl is diabetic, so I alerted the Berry Fast sag person, Bridgette, John's wife, to keep an eye on Carl, just in case. 

A meeting of two worlds....

 Later, after another stop to gather us up into the group, Carl was complaining about his drive train not shifting into the granny gear. I asked if I could take a look. I picked up the rear of the bike, shifted it into granny, pedaled. Bam! It went right into place. However; as a mechanic, I understood there was more to this. I asked Carl if I could ride his bike. 

I was easily able to duplicate his problem with the front bake applied and pedaling with pressure. That cheesy Shimano Acera front derailleur wasn't up to the task. They never are, really. This level of componentry is basically for casual bike path usage and anything past this is beyond the scope of what it was designed to do. 

I instructed Carl that he would have to baby the drive train, making sure there was near zero pressure on the pedals, to attain a front down shift. Likely his chain and cassette were shot, making this issue even worse, but it was what it was at the time. 

Anyway, I hopped off the bike and felt my hands were sticky and gooey. Ah! Carl's bloody nose! He had blood all over the grips. 

Great! 

I wiped off as much as I could using gravel dust. Yeeesh! That wasn't very pleasant! 

We ended up in Wayne eventually where my brother from another mother, Matt Gersib, was awaiting me. I grabbed my gear and headed for the bunkhouse. I changed, got cleaned up, and then we hooked up again with Jacquie Phelan. All three of us went to a local Mexican restaurant for the evening meal. 

Matt Gersib and Jacquie Phelan

 

A color-changing fountain in the pond near where I stayed in Wayne, Nebraska. 

Matt dropped me off later and then I did a little bit of writing and hit the hay in my private bunk. It was nice. I slept pretty well. The following day I was able to stand up and get dressed. Yes, that is a big deal after a few days of struggling to dress off your back in a two-person bike packing tent! 

What a day that was! Jam packed with things I won't soon forget. Challenging gravel, rain, cows, old bridge history, and struggles overcome to reach the end of a 59 mile day.  Day Six was upon us now. The second to last day of BRAN. The route was shorter. I was looking forward to it and the next stop in Oakland, Nebraska.