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......