Sara Kay Carrell getting ready for her recumbent bicycle record across Kansas.

I joined the UMCA in July and by October I was already attempting a Kansas state record. When the original plan of a two-person relay didn't quite pan out, my official, Eric Johnson, looked at me and said "But you are ready, you are still going for it." No wavering in his voice, no doubt in his eyes. I was going across Kansas, solo, south to north.

The morning of the race I was sitting on the bed, bike helmet on and still in pajamas. I had woken up from a restless night of "sleep". Amidst trying to sleep, I had a dream that I took revenge on two bullying classmates. In another dream, a bike racer bragged about how great she was until we raced and I blew her record to pieces! Even if I didn't get a good night's sleep, I figured those dreams meant something. My subconscious was ready even if I wasn't!

Next thing I know its 7:30 a.m. and I'm at the Oklahoma State line. Eric has given the magic words, camera flashes are going off, Dad has firecrackers lit, sparklers waving, and noisemakers clacking. Mom is honking this crazy bugle horn that any kid would love to have on their bike. With cheers, hoots, and hollers from all five crew I'm off. What a send off!

The morning is crisp, chilly, and still. I am rolling smoothly down the road, still wiggling in my seat trying to settle in into the rhythm of the ride and the mindset of a 230 mile adventure. "Fly, Girl! Fly!" floats into my head. That was Mom's cheers when I competed in the long jump. Now she is yelling the same encouragement.

Carrell ready to start her recumbent bicycle record across Kansas.

Moving down the road the adventure begins to unfold. The shoulders are so rough they could shake the feathers off a chicken. The Beehive with all its lights, signs, and blinkers, shielding me from the truck traffic and Sunday travelers. Talking to the crew thru the radio system. The crew entertaining curious cows with the PA system. The wet bandanas around the neck and water pouring all over me in the heat. The crew keeping focus while I was losing mine in the heat. Gentle reminders to drink my calories. The pained looks on the crew's faces wishing they could do the one thing they couldn't do: get on my bike and ride for me.

The competition that ensued between crew and racer: could the crew eat as many calories as I could burn. Fresh bottles of Hammer Nutrition every hour with meticulous notes on every calorie. Each minute off the bike recorded; average speed calculated each hour. Announcements of phone calls, good luck wishes, and advice for the miles ahead.

Carrell taking a hand-off during her recumbent bicycle record across Kansas.

Celebration banners at mile one-hundred to mark my fastest century. Bigger celebrations at two-hundred to mark my first double. A cheering fan club gathered at Oberlin, raising the spirits even more. When the eyes were getting heavy, Gay was broadcasting every fun thing we have done at races and every funny thing she could remember about me. More fun poems from Michele. Eric laughing in the background. My radio had long ago gone dead; now tolerating this madness over the PA. I wanted to hear the babbling, laughing crew. I needed to hear the Beehive's cheer and laughter; it made me go faster. More honking horns and cackling noisemakers from Mom and Dad the closer and closer we approached Nebraska state line. More "Fly, Girl, Fly" from Mom.

The winds had died down somewhere after Oakley while the stomach was settling and body temperature returned to normal. The last stop: 10 miles to go. Maybe I could live up to that last goal: a two mile time trial to the Nebraska line. The Beehive was in full babble mode. I could see Cedar Bluffs lights. "Leave it all out on the road" was the word of advice from earlier in the day. I knew it was time to fully empty the reserve tank. The Beehive's lights began faintly illuminating the 'Welcome to Nebraska' sign. Closer, I could see Dad's sparklers. Closer yet, I could hear the silly bugle horn Mom had honked all day. At the state line, I raised my arm, slamming them towards the ground the instant I passed the sign. Done! 7:48 p.m.!

I finished under my own power. Winds blew throughout the day varying from nonexistent to 20 mph pushes in the early miles. The worst of it was towards the end of the ride, when I was at the turning point of wanting to "git 'er done!" or slowly roll into the ditch and fall over in an exhausted heap. Who would have thought that after the beautiful 75 degree days for the last five weeks, I would be flash fried with temperatures at 100 degrees!

Carrell smiling as she races her recumbent across Kansas.

I have dreamed of being the racer ever since I started crewing for ultra distance events. The challenge of completing the long, hard miles fascinates me. My weapon of choice is the Bacchetta recumbent. I would never be attempting records like this if it weren't for recumbents and Bacchetta's beautiful and fast machines. That combined with the encouraging Bacchetta Team, I made my way across the state within my goal.

And of course, the best part of the race! The Beehive Crew — what a superb bunch! All my experience crewing, racing and everything else aside, I could not fathom an attempt like this without my crew. Gay, Michele, Mom, Dad, and even my official, Eric, standing idly by, hands tucked behind his back, were every bit a part of the success of this record attempt. Without them, there would be no 12 hours and 18 minutes Kansas state crossing for a woman!

The UltraMarathon Cycling Association — an international organization that oversees long-distance amateur cycling events — certified Sara Kay Carrell as the UMCA Kansas south to north recumbent record holder. Eric Johnson, the UMCA official, observed her ride to ensure that she complied with all cycling regulations and traffic laws.

Official Record: 229.5 miles in 12 hours 18 minutes, average speed 18.66 mph
Start: State Highway 83 at KS/OK state line
Finish: State Highway 83 at KS/NE state line