How Pete Brautigam Turned His Love of Design into his Life’s Purpose

For Pete Brautigam, the essential item he brings with him on winter trips into the Boundary Waters is not a piece of clothing, a fire starter or a special sled, but his design kit.

At the end of almost every day, he brings out this four-ounce kit, which includes graph paper, pencils, a six-inch ruler and half-inch tape measure. His head is usually full of ideas, possible designs and ways to improve and innovate the equipment he either has or wishes he had.

Ever since he was young, Pete Brautigam has been looking for ways to make things better. He sees what’s out there, and that gene that makes him want to tinker and improve kicks in. Instinctually he thinks, “How hard can making this be?”

This has always been especially true for outdoor gear.

In high school he cut his teeth working at an upholstery shop, learning about fabrics and how to sew. Adventurous, skilled, but without a lot of money, necessity compelled him to make his own outdoor equipment. This included jackets, bike-packing gear, and accessories to hold fishing rods and gear on his bike.

“I would become incredibly focused on one detail, one design problem and continually try to find ways to fix it,” says Brautigam. “As I got older, it got out of hand.”

It’s no surprise that Brautigam went on to study machine tool technology and become a mechanical engineer. For over fourteen years he worked as a tool designer for the federal government, developing a deep understanding of what could and couldn’t be done with metal. Outside of work hours, the flood of inspiration and need to improve his outdoor gear never left him. He was constantly taking out random napkins, sketching designs, discussing ideas with friends and turning these creative impulses into practical designs.

As the years went by, Brautigam spent an increasing number of nights working on various design projects, in particular, winter camping equipment. While his day job offered financial security — the “golden handcuffs” of a pension and years of service — his heart was pulling him north, to the lakes and forests of the Boundary Waters.

For Brautigam, who grew up in central Illinois and experienced his first winter in the Boundary Waters sixteen years ago, winter holds a special appeal.

First, there is the unmatched solitude, where you might go a week without seeing another soul. Add to this the challenge of the experience, where even simple tasks, from cutting wood to going to the bathroom, are that much harder, and it all adds up to a chance to challenge himself and grow.

The Boundary Waters has also been a fertile opportunity to conceive of new designs.

By June 2022, this symbiosis between his creativity and the wilderness came to a head. Brautigam took a leap of faith and decided to leave his government job and transition to working fulltime for his company, Brautigam Expedition Works.

After his first winter of doing it, he knew this was where his heart was. But if he really wanted to do this, he would need to do it fulltime and move north. Which he did. In March 2023, he and his wife moved to Iron, Minnesota, a stone’s throw from the wilderness and the extreme, beautiful, winter conditions his gear is built for.

Along with its toughness and utility, one thing that stands out about Brautigam’s gear, and that is core to his philosophy, is its simplicity. Achieving that simplicity, however, isn’t easy. Products can require months or years of refinement to meet Brautigam’s exacting standards.

Take his long-handled titanium spoon, for instance. What might seem like a basic utensil went through six complete versions before he felt satisfied. Each iteration of the spoon has refined elements, like the flat bottom that doesn’t feel flat in the mouth, the precise length of handle needed to reach the bottom of a backpacker meal without getting food on your hands, and the carefully placed holes that reduce weight without compromising strength.

“There’s a lot of poorly designed, poorly engineered gear out there, budget or otherwise,” Brautigam says. “If I don’t have that warm fuzzy feeling with a product, it doesn’t see the light of day.” 

His 36-inch saw, which took over two years to finalize, was partially motivated by not finding a large enough collapsible saw and a strong hatred of what he calls “fiddlybits” — things like screws and nuts that can easily get lost in the snow or are hard to use with thick mittens. For Brautigam, the ultimate goal of design is elegance, to do away with extra parts and reach a point of pure functionality. “For me, the design is perfect when you can’t take anything away.”

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Since moving to Iron, Brautigam has found more ways to give back to the Boundary Waters and to the community he now calls home. He volunteers with the organization, Band of Brothers, helping introduce veterans to winter camping in the BWCA. He and his wife also serve on the St. Louis County rescue squad. Last year they spent 14 days assisting with the search for the two drowned canoeists at Curtain Falls.

For Brautigam, the BWCA is a special place that deserves equipment worthy of its majesty. Like others before him, he’s found that the wilderness doesn’t just beacon him with the prospect of adventurer, it inspires him. While finalizing the specs on the floating bow saw he hopes to unveil this spring, Brautigam continues to refine other designs in his workshop near the edge of this wilderness. In doing so, he joins a long tradition of northern Minnesota entrepreneurs and craftspeople who are energized by this one-of-a-kind wilderness.