I invited 13 friends to ride the 1998 century with me, people who'd never seen the Pennyrile Plateau. Around Mile 6, one of them said, "From what you told us, I didn't think there'd be this many hills." She was no wimp. She rode the Assault on Mount Mitchell—all the way up.

A guy from Nashville said, "What hills?" To him, the course was flat.

"Florida is flat," my friend said. She's from Fort Lauderdale. "This is not flat."

Yet she finished in personal-record time, faster than she'd ever finished 100 miles in her home state. Wind and traffic must've kept her from riding faster there. Sidewinds coming off the Atlantic will eat your lunch out on US 1 and A1A. They may have calm days in the Sunshine State. I've never observed one.

I'm not picking on Florida. I've always loved the place—came close to moving there. I've done a lot of riding down there too, and for years, it was my yardstick for flat. But Florida's not only windy and traffic-ridden; it's really not quite flat, nothing like the Bonneville Salt Flats.

A more appropriate and instructive yardstick for the "Sunrise" Century is the Hotter'n Hell Hundred in Wichita Falls, Texas. It's the century we aspire to emulate, Why not? It's the biggest bicycle century in the world, a top-notch event that includes a USCF race. The rolling terrain around Wichita Falls is very similar to ours—though more nearly level. Riders and writers describe it as flat or nearly flat.

But it's twice as "hilly" as US 1 in Florida. And the "Sunrise" Century is 50% hillier than the HHH, so our century requires three times as much climbing as 100 miles of coastal highway in Florida. I've already noted that Florida's roads—except on rare days of light wind and traffic—are harder to ride than ours. Maybe the HHH is harder than our ride too—because as far as we've been able to discover, nobody has ridden it faster than last year's peloton rode our century course.

2006 "Sunrise" 3:56:11, 2005 HHH 3:59:40, but that course is a bit longer than 100 miles. (The 2005 Sunrise was even faster at 3:53:00, with one tandem in the peloton. ) [Editor's note: We changed the event's rules in 2008, to exclude tandems, so 3:53:00 is now an "unofficial" record. The current Sunrise record is 3:44:55, set in 2008.)

And it wasn't hotter'n hell at the Hotter'n Hell last year. It was actually slightly cooler than Clarksville a week later when we staged our century, a rare happenstance. Not only that, but we had slightly more wind here last year than Wichita Falls had, a rare happenstance indeed. We just don't get breezes that stiff—at least, not often—and never during previous rides.

It’s a whole ‘nother deal at the Hotter'n Hell. In the words of its own website, “Endurance cyclists will face wind and heat.” Adversity is actually its biggest draw, and last year’s favorable conditions may have been unique. Maybe that's why no one cites a faster HHH time.

Weather gave the “Sunrise” no edge in 2006, but how about our riders? Were they stronger than the Hotter’n Hell racers? We're impressed with our guys who finished that year, but they'd tell you the HHH racers’ credentials were more distinguished. The winner was a Cat 1 Professional.

Yet he finished nearly 2.5 minutes slower than our 2006 peloton.

How can that be? Could any of our guys have beaten him?

Maybe. The comparison is misleading. Our course is 100.00 miles long. The Hotter'n Hell Hundred is 102 miles long. The HHH winner, then, was faster than our peloton. But what we don't know is whether he had help from tandems. Our fastest peloton time with a tandem is 3:53:00, set in 2005.

We're down to a small advantage. It doesn't call for a recondite explanation, so here's an obvious hunch: Maybe lots of centuries have been ridden faster by regular bikes than 3:56:11. Maybe we just haven't found them. We've searched high and low, but we haven't searched exhaustively.

Other factors may have redounded to our advantage. The elevation of Wichita Falls is 1019 feet, twice as high above sea level as Clarksville, Tennessee. I doubt that’s significant. Our road surfaces are a tad smoother, but just a tad. For what it’s worth, traffic here is truly minimal. I don't know how it compares with traffic at the HHH.

That’s small stuff. What about our disadvantage (50% more climbing) vis‑à‑vis the HHH? When you ride the "Sunrise" Century, you're almost always ascending or descending. There aren't many truly level stretches.

There aren’t many hills either. Not real ones. You may have heard there's only one, a 66-foot climb on Kentucky 848 just before Mile 83. It starts at the bridge over Elk Fork. You get a fast run at it coming down from the other side. Then it's a quarter-mile from the bridge to the top of the hill.

Many other “Sunrise” hills are just shallow inclines. We have steeper rises, sure, but most are 60 to 100 yards long, making it easy to keep up your momentum. Stronger riders rarely shift off their big chainrings.

Maybe 50% more climbing doesn't matter much. Maybe these factors help compensate for it, but I've been saving the big one, the factor we think makes the difference.

We support our lead peloton with a rolling escort of motorcycles and a supply truck. We plan to continue this service—with the express and declared aim of facilitating record speeds (while making a point of not fostering competition).

Members of the 2004 peloton stuck together and helped each other. The first thirty-five finished together. The 2005, 2006, and 2007 gangs followed suit. They took turns pulling, and everybody slowed down while the support crew handed off bottles and snacks. Once, the entire phalanx even stopped together—very briefly—to pee. Nobody tried to drop anybody or break away for individual glory. Well, with the finish line in sight, one guy couldn't resist sprinting for it. I can't remember whether he managed to cross first. If he did, it was by a meaningless margin. Click HERE for the pelotons' stories from 2005 to 2008. To appreciate the advantage of sticking together instead of racing each other, read Mark Johnson’s account (link will open in new window) of tandem riders who’ve beaten the racers at the Texas event.

We’re not sure ourselves how easy and fast the "Sunrise" Century is—or how it compares with other fast centuries. At least, we haven’t passed off the inane phrase "gently rolling," sometimes used to describe courses that require twice as much climbing as ours. Hey, why don't we say the "Sunrise" Century is 200% "flatter" than many other “gently rolling” centuries?

Our courses aren’t flat, but consider this: Fewer than one in 20 of you have ready access to roads that require less climbing than ours. Ninety-five percent of Americans live in places that are hillier. That's why we'd wager most of you haven't ridden 100 miles as fast as you can here.