Scott Dakus getting ready for his N-S.

I had been contemplating a state record attempt for a few years and this year all the ducks seemed to line up. I had gone through the UMCA records and saw many states with no record and others that could be beaten on a good day. For Nevada a West-to-East record existed (402 miles at 19 mph) which was breakable if there were great weather and I produced an awesome ride. I was looking for something a little longer and more challenging.

While there was no north-to-south record, Jeff Stevenson had set the south-to-north record last summer in 45 hours, 38 minutes. I enjoyed his ride report. He drove the entire course and chose to go south to north because of the predominant south winds. Race day was different and he had a head wind for most of his ride. For his record he stayed on the bike for most of the first 200 miles, but ended up with nine hours off the bike in total. Still, he and his crew actually went out and did it and I hadnít.

I chose Nevada, south-to-north for the same reason; a 50% chance of a tailwind, a 40% chance of a strong tailwind, and a small chance of a headwind. My training partner, Erik Skramstad, would be my crew chief; he is as good as they come and has always come through for me. I lined up Kevin Walsh, a fellow Death Valley double rider, as the official. We picked a date and recruited two more crew ó Jason Landberg, another strong ultracyclist, and James Pierce, a local rider. My 10 year-old son, Andy, was the final addition. All that was left was to fill out the paperwork and keep an eye on the forecast.

Dakus cruising north across Nevada during his record attempt.

For a month before the ride we had strong south winds in the Vegas valley. That changed abruptly three days before the ride with winds from the north. The forecast was for 20-30 mph north winds through the weekend. I wasnít just nervous, I was afraid that I might chicken out. The day before the ride, Andy and I stopped by a bike shop for some supplies and met Keon who was gearing up for the Hawaiian Ironman. He was a double leg amputee and would be riding a hand-bike. We talked about road bikes and he was trying to iron out some problems with cleats. When I left the bike shop, I thought about how much this kid would likely trade with me and ride into a headwind with two good legs. The decision was done; we would ride even if it were a hurricane. When Kevin arrived in town the night before, he put my mind at ease. He said that I could break the record as long as I rode within myself.

We met at my house at 5 a.m. and headed to the border 20 miles south of Searchlight, NV. With nothing but a sign and a cattle guard I changed into bike clothes and made last minute preparations. Kevin started the clock and I rode over the cattle guard and into Nevada. As promised, the wind was a 20 mph headwind.

In the first few miles I completed my warm-up and settled into a groove. I remember thinking, ìI can ride this slow all day.î The first 100 miles were great; I knew the roads and was conserving myself, or at least thought I was conserving myself. The first round of climbs was done around mile 110. During this time of windy suffering, the crew grabbed burritos at Faustoís since it was practically on the course. Faustoís is the best Mexican food you will ever eat; any bicycle ride associated with Faustoís is a winner.

The wind started to ease up around mile 140. We were on our way to the farming town of Alamo and we were on schedule. The schedule was a pretty rough one; it only had three parts; Alamo by sunset (175 miles), Ely by sunrise (322 miles) and Jackpot by sunset (528 miles). We cleared Alamo by about 10 miles when it was officially night and we went into nighttime rules. This is when it hit me how dialed in the crew was.

Efficient crew work switching bicycles.

As usual, the night portion was long and boring. It was quite cold and my knees were hurting from climbing in the cold. We plunged into Ely and I was the coldest I have been in a long time. I use the layering method and I was up to five. In Ely, I turned into a convenience store and stated to the crew, ìIím going to sit in this warm van while one of you buys me a microwave burrito.î They got me two.

It was an hour before sunrise and we had met time goal number two and I was starting to feel that this was going to end well, but we had a small problem. It was cold! I was prepared to ride in the 20s, but I was already thoroughly frozen. I could either sit in the cozy warm van for two hours or stick to the plan and get on the bike. I knew that I wouldnít be able to feel my fingers or toes for the next three hours and that my head would really hurt, but there was nothing here that was going to kill me; we had a job to do so we went to work. The water in the bottles kept freezing so the guys started heating the water in the van by placing the bottles next to heater. This hot water was so incredibly satisfying; it probably made the difference between me getting off the bike and staying on.

At one point the crew said that they had to stop in a store in Currie. It turned out to be a ghost town. It doesnít sound funny, but it was at the time. I was pretty tired and getting a bit loopy. A few times my eyes played tricks on me and I saw some things that werenít really there and I almost nodded off a few times, but I was able to keep it together. The guys kept a close eye on me, played a good variety of music over the speakers and kept things lighthearted.

Scott Dakus, Andy Dakus, Kevin Walsh, James Pierce, and Erik Skramstad at the Nevada/Idaho border. Photo by Jason Landberg.

Meanwhile, the knee was driving me nuts. I figured out earlier in the day that I had a slightly bent left pedal spindle on the Litespeed and it may have been the root of all this.

I was not expecting the last big climb to be so tough. It was only eight miles and less than 1,000 feet of gain, but it felt like a wall. From the crest to the finish was quite enjoyable with the best scenery of the whole route. It helped make up for the headwinds that whipped up again. Finally the crew drove ahead to the finish at the ìWelcome to Idahoî sign. The sign was different than in Jeff Stevensonís photo; it had a bullet hole right in the middle. It was perfect.

Success, congratulations, hamburgers, and beer! We got a room and each took a well-deserved shower, ate and headed home. The whole weekend was done in less than 48 hours. I deal only with studs here! Total time was 35 hours and 24 minutes with a total time off the bike of less than one hour.

I have to thank these folks:

Erik Skramstad ñ Crew chief, training partner for several years, and friend
Kevin Walsh - UMCA official, Furnace Creek 508 hall-of-famer and friend
Jason Landberg ñ Crew member, cycling buddy and friend
James Pierce - Crew member, cycling buddy and friend
Andrew Dakus - Crew member, youngest son, and friend
Cynthia Dakus - Wife, best friend, rock
Fred Boethling - UMCA Records chair, legend, friend