I'm sure that everyone has read the "How To" primer on the UMCA website about how to organize a record attempt. No doubt about it, that's the proper way to do things. Let's call that the Ying of organization.

OK, now let's look at the Yang, or what my friends lovingly call the "Danny Method". First, pull out your calendar and choose the last possible free weekend in your schedule. That way you are absolutely sure that you have no options in case of problems. And for good measure, choose a weekend just after your kids go back to school so that every germ in the known universe gets to ride along with you... in your lungs, in your muscles, in your sinuses. All you parents of young children know exactly what I'm talking about. Next, count back 23 days from your scheduled attempt. That's the date when you start looking at the paperwork and checking for your official. That way you'll be too stressed out about getting the paperwork done to worry about trivial things like the actual ride. Now, after you've dealt with that stress, go out and pre-ride just the first part of the course. Don't worry about the remaining 100 miles of rolling hills. They don't look too bad from the car. Finally, two days before the actual attempt, make some major equipment change, like installing those tri-bars you haven't used in 10 years. Don't worry, your hamstrings will loosen up somewhere in the first few (hundred) miles.

That, in a nutshell, was the way my ride came to be. After endless phone calls and emails to everyone I knew in cycling, I found an official willing to do things at the last minute (Thank you Caroline!). Then I found a crew chief infinitely more organized than me who was willing to drop everything to help me get all the signs, maps, flashing lights, and hotel reservations done (and done quickly) and who was willing to drive with me to scout and mark the course. Never underestimate the value of good friends and luck! Since only the rider and official get their names listed on the website, I want to take this opportunity to thank my crew chief, Nancy Diamond. This ride wouldn't have happened without her.

The ride itself started out in the same fashion as the build up, and I consider it a valuable learning experience. I learned that warming up in the dark on a foggy, 46 degree morning in nothing more than a jersey and arm warmers is kind of futile. I learned that a heart monitor without back-light is useless until well past sunrise, as are sunglasses in the fog. I learned that if you don't know how to switch the mode on your heart rate monitor in the dark, then you're going to ride in whatever mode happens to come up first, because you can't get it to work 6" away from a vehicle headlight... must be something about all that electricity so close to a receiver. And I learned that there are a lot of deer on the Blue Ridge Parkway at sunrise and that they like standing in the road. Fortunately I didn't hit any of them... but it wasn't because of anything I did to avoid them and it certainly wasn't due to their overwhelming intelligence.

Things changed dramatically once the sun came up over the trees and the air warmed up. It was a beautiful morning in the mountains. The air was crisp and clean and the scenery was stunning. Damn, I love riding in the mountains! Everything just flowed along. All of the exchanges went well and I felt great. I didn't feel even a trace of the flu I had been fighting all week. The climbs didn't feel too bad and the final descent off the Parkway on Highway 18 gave me a big rush of adrenalin. One day I'm going to take one of those corners too fast and experience flying without wings, but if that's the way I'm going to die, at least I'll die happy. Yes, it was a glorious ride... at least it was until I hit North Wilkesboro.

As I started through Wilkesboro, all of those flu effects that I had not felt at all came roaring back. I started getting cramps deep in my quads every time I had to climb. This was a strange sensation for me. Throughout my long cycling career, I've always been remarkably free of cramps. I do the majority of my rides in 90 degree heat and 90 % humidity and I almost never get cramps. I've done two PAC Tours, uncountable brevets, and over 300,000 lifetime miles without a problem. The one time that speed matters, BAM, the muscles lock up! As a precaution, I had stuffed a few electrolyte capsules in my jersey so I popped a couple of those. No change. A few miles later, I ate a banana and drank some extra water. No change... none at all. So I took a few more electrolytes along with some calcium. Again, no change. Finally, I decided that the cramps were viral, that there was nothing I was going to do about them, and that I had come too far to quit, so I just pressed on. Every hill meant pain. And the pain got worse every time I climbed. Hey, that's life on the bike. Get over it.

Danny Thomas after racing across North Carolina

The next few hours were pretty much the same. I suffered up every hill and starting away from every stop sign and stop light, but I enjoyed the downhills and flats. Everything changed at about 1:00 p.m., though. As luck would have it, the course passed right through the little town where my parents recently moved after 45 years in Florida (ever wonder where Floridians retire to?). As I rode past their street, I found my family, including my two young daughters and my 95-year old Grandmother, standing along the road, cheering. Record time or no record time, I just had to stop. I gave each of my little girls a hug and a kiss, joked for a few seconds with my Mom and Dad, blew a kiss to my Grandmother, slammed a Starbucks double espresso, and rode away rejuvenated. Sure the cramps still hurt, but who cared? I grinned all the way to the finish.

People have asked me what I did when I finished. Well, I drank most of a bottle of champagne, I posed for a picture, I thanked Nancy and Caroline effusively, and I changed out of that soggy jersey. But then I started wondering how fast I could ride that route next time, and how I was going to schedule attempts on the other records, and what I needed to do differently next time. Yep, I guess it's true... once you do one, you're hooked.

Official record: October 2, 2005, 144.3 miles, 8 hours 11 minutes 17.63mph.
Start: NC/VA state line on Blue Ridge Parkway
Finish: SH 160 at NC/SC state line.