Hallucinations, Highways, and Heart

Qualifier Races for RAAM & Tour of North Texas
Texas — 1992–1993

Ultra-endurance cycling isn’t just about strong legs.

It’s about what happens when your mind starts playing tricks on you at 3 a.m. on an endless Texas highway.

The Road That Never Changed

In April 1992, Ted lined up for a brutal qualifier event connected to RAAM — the Race Across America — along with the Tour of North Texas. These weren’t scenic rides through charming towns. These were long, lonely stretches of open road where the horizon never seemed to move and the scenery refused to change.

Assigned to Ted’s support crew were three university students — young, energetic, and about to get a crash course in sleep deprivation, logistics, and human limits. They followed him in a van, leapfrogging ahead, refueling him, and trying to stay awake as the miles piled up.

Somewhere deep into the race, the landscape started doing strange things.

Or rather, Ted’s mind did.

With almost nothing to look at but flat pavement and empty sky, his exhausted brain began inventing obstacles. He saw lumber scattered across the road — boards and planks that weren’t actually there. Time and again, he swerved sharply to avoid hitting phantom debris.

Inside the van, his crew stared in confusion.

“Why are you weaving?” they’d ask over and over.

“There’s nothing in the road!”

But in Ted’s reality, the road was full of hazards only he could see — a classic sign of extreme fatigue. The body was still pedaling. The mind was somewhere between Texas and a dream.

A Test of Endurance… and Relationships

For two straight days, the crew barely slept. They lived in a haze of sweat, dust, fast food, and constant motion — driving, navigating, handing off bottles, checking on Ted, and trying not to argue from sheer exhaustion.

By the end of the event, two of the students had learned something important.

If they could survive this together — filthy, sleep-deprived, and responsible for a hallucinating ultra-cyclist — they could survive just about anything.

They later decided to get married.

Ted finished the race in 51 hours and 39 minutes, covering 58.3 miles of grueling, nonstop cycling and earning seventh place. But the real story wasn’t the ranking — it was the lesson in how far people can push themselves when there’s nothing left but determination and a thin line between reality and imagination.

Back to Texas — 1993

Ted returned the following year for the Tour of North Texas.

No hallucinated lumber this time — just more relentless miles and another test of endurance against heat, wind, and mental fatigue.

He rode his way to fourth place, finishing in 51 hours and 44 minutes — proof that even after the mind’s tricks and the road’s monotony, he could come back stronger.

These races weren’t about medals or crowds.

They were about learning how to keep moving when the road is empty, the mind is tired, and the only thing left to guide you…
is will.