November 9, 2015 by Bruce Wynkoop
I rode BRAN in June of 2014 and have no idea why it took me this long to add it to my blog. I guess other things just kept coming up and I just didn’t get around to it. But whatever the reason, I’m ready to do it now, so, here we go. In my 4 years attending Dakota Wesleyan University in Mitchell, South Dakota (home of the World’s Only Corn Palace), I developed a real love of the prairie (at least the rolling prairie east of the Missouri River, not so much the flatter land west of it), so I was looking forward to riding across the Nebraska prairie. Having driven across Nebraska many times, mostly on I-80, on my way to visit family in Colorado, I waited until the BRAN route went through the northern part of Nebraska–The Sand Hills area. I had, on several occasions, for the sake of different scenery, driven north from I-80 through the Sand Hills to South Dakota, then continued east to Minnesota and home. It’s a good ride if you’re tired of freeway scenery, but it adds a bit of time. I have taken Neb. Hwy. 61 north out of Ogalala to Neb. Hwy. 20 to Valentine, then north on Neb. Hwy. 83 into South Dakota. I’ve also taken Neb. Hwy. north 83 out of North Platte all the way to South Dakota. Either way I go north from Valentine to Mission, South Dakota, then east on S.D. Hwy. 18. At Winner I pick up Hwy. 44 (east), which is a beautiful ride through the Missouri River valley, to Parkston, S.D., then north to I-90 for the rest of the way home to Minnesota. But, I digress.
Anyway, because of these detours, I had seen some of the Sand Hills, but had never driven across the entire area, east to west or vice-versa. So I kept checking the BRAN route each year and when, in 2014, the route went from west to east through the Sand Hills, I registered for the ride. Getting to the starting line was a bit tougher than with most rides as riders have to box their bikes for transport from Omaha to the western part of the state, in this case, Rushville, Nebraska. I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal but when you get to the starting point you have to take the bike out of the box and turn the handlebars back, put the pedals back on, etc. It does make it easier on and off the truck, though. The afternoon and night before the ride started were pleasant, but when we woke up in the morning there was a cold rain falling and thunderstorms in the area. The thunder was close enough that it made starting the ride questionable, but the organizers said they had three different radar readings that said the storms were past and no new ones were coming. I had met a guy the night before, Steve, who was also riding alone so we had decided to ride it together. The morning of the start we waited to get an “all clear” from the organizers and when it came, left town in a steady drizzle. I still had doubts as to the wisdom of riding in that weather. When we were six miles from the start the rain started to come down much harder and a short time later it started to hail. We could hear thunder in the distance and could tell it was nearing quickly. Once the hail and thunder started I figured we had to take shelter soon. Riding through a thunderstorm on a piece of metal that makes you the highest thing in the area is absolutely not a good idea. Just after this thought crossed my mind there was a terrific flash of light to our right accompanied by a simultaneous “BOOM!” I’m not sure how close the lightning had struck to us but it certainly seemed like it was within yards of us.
I shouted at Steve that we had to get off the road and we could see, through the pouring rain and driving hail, what appeared to be a shelter of some sort about 40 yards to our left. We headed for the shelter on a dirt path leading to it from the road and upon reaching it, realized the “shelter” was a very large stack of very large rolls of hay. Two other riders, a father and his daughter, had followed us and the four of us burrowed into the hay stack, hoping for the best. Within a half-hour the thunder, lightning, and hail had passed and we were able to continue the ride. There is NO WAY the organizers should have let us start out that morning! It was a very dangerous situation. They, and the riders, are lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I had not planned on riding in weather THAT bad so by the time we got to the first stop, 12 miles down the road, I was soaked to the skin and shivering, so I decided to something I hate to do–I took the sag wagon. Steve, who had planned better than I had (clothing-wise), finished the 60-mile ride to Cody, Nebraska. The weather improved somewhat but drizzled all day long. I, along with others, was sagged all the way to Cody and the townspeople of Cody really stepped up, opening the school for the riders as the field we were supposed to tent in for the night was under water. Many riders set up their bedrolls in the gymnasium but, as that has never appealed to me, I looked for a secluded corner in a hallway that was right in front of the principal’s office, figuring the principal would not be coming through. As luck would have it, the principal did, indeed, show up and I had to move all my stuff. Fortunately, the principal turned out to be a “prince of a pal” (a term one of my high school teachers used to help us remember how to spell it, compared to “principle”) and opened his small office and encouraged me to use it for the night.
I had kept an eye out for Steve throughout the day with no luck finding him. Late in the afternoon I was standing in an entryway looking at the rain continue to fall when a figure bundled in rain gear walked up next to me and said, to no one in particular, “I guess I’ll have to set my tent up in the yard there.” When I turned to the figure I was happy to see that it was Steve, who had not realized it was me standing next to him, and said, “Have I got a deal for you.” He was pretty happy to have a warm, dry room to spend the night, as opposed to setting up his tent in a driving rain. The organizers of the ride managed to get dinner set up inside the school and the night passed quite comfortably. Thank you, Cody! Okay, so far I have made BRAN sound like the bike ride from Hell, but it was only that first day, the weather the rest of the week was warm, sunny, and very pleasant. Any ride is going to have the possibility of bad weather and participants have to know that going in. However, the organizers have to have the riders’ safety in mind, too, and we should not have started the ride until later in the day (two or three hours would have done it). That’s enough–on to the good part. The next day dawned clear and warm, and we left town in bright sunshine. In fact, the rest of the week was warm, sunny, and pleasant.
The Sand Hills area is not very populated, in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear there are more cows than people. One day we were told, after having ridden 20 miles or so, that the next town was just 12 miles ahead. When riding a long bike ride it is nice to have several shorter rides (I look at a 60-mile bike ride as six 10-mile rides) to think about so we looked forward to getting to the next town. We started thinking, as we rode, of a refreshing cold drink (compared to warm bike water), a snack, and maybe even, best of all, ice cream! After riding the 12-miles and into town we were disappointed to find the “town” was composed of a church and a house. No cold drinks, no snacks, and, worst of all, no ice cream. For the most part, however, the organizers kept the riders supplied with all the necessities, or, at least had planned the route so we rode through real towns several times a day. The scenery was vintage Nebraska. Rolling prairie, grassy hillsides, windmills working to fill stock tanks, and vistas that seemed to go on forever.
The overnight towns were Rushville, Cody, Atkinson, Verdigre, Laurel, Lyons, and Waterloo. As with most of these state-wide bike rides the overnight towns treated the participants well. There were always several different places to find dinner and often entertainment in the evening. The organizers supplied shower trucks, which are vastly superior to the showers in high or junior high schools (which often don’t have enough hot water) for the end of the day clean-up. The ride was 476 miles long; the cost was $175. It turned out to be a very nice week. I met a lot of good people, made a new friend, and got to see the Sand Hills of Nebraska up close and personal.Elkhorn River running through the prairie. Elkhorn River running through, what else, the prairie.
