On August 20, 2005 Mieczyslaus Burzynski, 53, Newburyport, MA set a new Massachusetts east-west record of 9 hours 1 minute. The old record from Boston to New York state line record was 9 hours 30 minutes. Incidentally, the west-east record was 9 hours 18 minutes- the starting elevation at the New York state line is higher than finishing sea level of Boston.

Start in front of Boston City Hall. L-R: Robert Schwartz, crew, Stephanie Fall, official; Mieczyslaus Burzynski, Jim Breen, crew. Photo by Jeff Page, crew chief.

Mickey clipped in about 6:45 a.m. in front of Boston City Hall. He was a bundle of nervous energy, as he just wanted to get started. No time to find a bathroom, he'd rather get started and get out of Dodge.

The road out of Boston was Massachusetts Avenue. He commented after the effort how controlled he was at the start. I said to him "no Mick.... the speedometer on the car never dropped below 25 mph on Mass. Ave." The rules stipulate you must stop and wait for green at all traffic lights. Each time the light turned green, he drag raced to the next light, which of course was always red.

The athlete, a support crew of three and the official, Stephanie Fall, composed team Burzynski. We had two cars with flashing yellow lights and 2-way radios.

Ten minutes into the ride Mickey unclipped and pulled off on the median strip in the middle of Mass. Ave! He's got a flat already? I jumped from the truck and grab his spare wheels. As I looked across the road, I saw a Giant with Spinergy wheels and no Mickey. He's found the only Porta-Potty on Mass. Ave. and it's in the middle of the median strip. He comes out with a big smile on his face.... all that hydrating finally caught up with him.

Twenty or so miles later we were finally out of Boston and Cambridge. The traffic lights were now getting further apart and Mickey was finally able to settle into a steady pace. I looked at the race time; it was about 1 1/2 hours. All those stoplights had killed the average speed. I did the numbers to figure what sort of pace he'd need to get back on track...and I got a little nervous.

The road to New York was basically Routes 2 or 2A. He had provided us with a route and feeding schedule. Surprisingly, the day went fast. We were either filling and handing up water bottles, or preparing the next feedbag. Five hours later, Mickey was looking good. He made up a lot of ground and the record looked do-able again. Every time I looked at the speedometer, it was above 20-22 mph.

Everything was going smoothly until just after Greenfield. The mountains were coming and Mick wanted to stop and swap the Spinergys for the Heliums. Well, my partner and I managed to make a wrong turn and get lost...the first and only time all day.... great timing. By the time we get back on track, Mick has already done the first climb on the Spinergys.

We picked a spot to change wheels and waited for him to arrive. He pulled up and I swapped the wheels for him. He clipped in, pedaled a few strokes and then stopped. The rear brake was rubbing. The wheel must not have seated in the drops, so I popped the quick release, set the bike down, and done.... nope...a few more cranks and he's stopped again. Brake was still dragging and I was stumped. Mickey who had been in the saddle for over six hours was...well let's just say it was time to back away from the cage. The animal was snarling! He muscled the rear caliper over enough to stop rubbing and took off.

Burzynski racing across Massachusetts.

We reached the foot of the mountains just east of North Adams. The climb had to be a category 1 or 2 climb. At the current pace, the record was in the bag, but I didn't know the area and didn't know what was ahead. After 15 minutes of expecting the road to flatten out, we radioed the other car and asked when does this climb end? "In about an hour..." An hour??? I redid the numbers and was nervous again. I could not have completed the climb if I had started at the base let alone after being in the saddle for 6 1/2 hours. We stopped on the climb once to take our own "nature break." I looked down the road and was shocked at the grade. Like skiing, things look a lot steeper looking down rather than up.

Mickey was awesome...the pace never slowed, the shoulders never rocked. He never looked up; he just kept spinning a high cadence and occasionally got out of the saddle to negotiate turns where the grade really kicked up. I redid the numbers and it was going to be close. He had to maintain the pace, which he couldn't do much longer. I was wrong...he did...for 60 minutes he climbed that mountain like a goat. Occasionally we pulled along side to give encouragement. Thanks he'd respond, his expression deep in concentration. I saw the veins in his forehead, skin flush red, and sweat dripping off his chin. This man was suffering like you see on TV tour coverage. It was awesome and I had the best seat in the house.

Finally the peak came into sight. In the corner of his eye he recognized the moose or deer or whatever that statue was on the right, and for the first time he looked up.

We headed down into North Adams. We were in clouds; it was cold, misty, and wet. He tucked in and rocketed down. I yelled "Keep your legs moving" (like he could hear me.) I didn't want his legs to fill up with lactic acid.

I did another calculation. He had an hour to get to the New York line and I though no problem. Again I didn't know the area. The final right turn to stay on Route 2 started another climb. We asked the other car how long is the climb? "All the way to the end." He had to climb at the previous mountain's pace.

Burzynski and crew relax at the finish.

We followed Mickey not knowing where we were in relation to the end. As a semi passed us, we asked the other car to let us know when it passes there. This went on for 30 minutes until we said, "OK red Jetta"...less than a minute later "got it". We knew were close and around the corner was the sign we'd been waiting for - New York state. Mickey pumped his fist knowing that he'd done it. After crossing the line, he grabbed the car door, "There's a parking lot ahead, pull me."

After 9 hours and 1 minute, he stopped and could barely lift his leg over the saddle. He was dead tired, but elated. "There's a Coke in that cooler with my name on it."

It was awesome to watch and I'm glad I was there to see it. He wore BOB colors and never once looked like he was in trouble. Congratulations Mickey, you deserve it.

Official record: 147.9 miles in 9 hours 01 minutes, 16.44 mph.
Start: Boston City Hall on New Sudbury Street Finish: State highway 2 at MA/NY state line west of Williamstown, MA.