Earlier this year, 16-year-old Scarlet Zeigler of Pennsylvania set the world record for most miles ridden in 24 hours by someone under the age of 18. In this piece, she recounts the day she pedaled nearly 300 miles along the GAP and C&O Canal Trail. Read it here…

Words and photos by Scarlet Zeigler

We drove down the road as I searched the internet for the record. “The current record is… hang on… 282.7 miles by Shivraj Thorat. I feel like I can beat that.”

It was springtime, the season for planning the cycling year for the Zeigler family. I wanted to do something big this year. Even though I had multiple solo tours planned, I wanted something even bigger—maybe world level. So, I started to search for 24-hour records, finding one I could aim for. Before our 20-minute drive was over, I’d decided to attempt to beat the world record for most miles ridden in 24 hours by someone under 18. Fast-forward through the next few months, through training and rides, to September 27, 2024, when I would attempt this record for the first time along the C&O/GAP Trail.

The weather was calling for rain all weekend. Even so, I wanted to see what I could do. I loaded my Restrap Race Hydration Vest with water and bars and glued my eyes to the clock as it ticked the minutes down to the start. Both my parents, as well as our friend David Nixon, were there cheering me on. When the clock read 5 p.m., I pushed off and started pedaling. Deep down, I knew I was going too fast, but I put it down to adrenaline and told myself I would slow once it wore off. It felt so quick—too quick—for me to make it to my first stop in Connellsville. I still felt good, so I ate some pierogies, refilled my water, and left.

The trail was pretty despite being soaking wet. Every few miles, I had to stop and lift my bike over a downed tree across the trail, and I was covered in mud to the point that I couldn’t wipe the dirt out of my eyes. A quick stop at Confluence set me at 66.6 miles in 5 hours, about 7 minutes ahead of schedule. I continued riding into the rain after a water refill and a protein shake. I hadn’t ridden this trail in a while and had forgotten the exact layout of its slim gradients. I pushed onward, trying to keep my average where it needed to be, even as my Garmin told me it was dropping further and further. 

Eventually, past the descent into Cumberland, after bouncing through mud puddles on an unkempt trail for miles, my average was irredeemable. I called the ride under a bridge after 156 miles. It was 6:06 a.m. The rain never stopped, the mud only worsened, and I physically felt terrible. It was time to go. Later that day, I found out about the flooding in Asheville and that I had been attempting to break a world record amid Hurricane Helene, categorized as the worst hurricane since Hurricane Katrina in 2005. It caused 250 deaths and cost about $78.7 million in damage. I had made the right decision. 

Six months of strength training and riding the rollers in the basement passed before I would attempt the ride again. On April 18, 2025, after two century rides the week before showed my stats far above where they needed to be, I headed back to Boston. This time, it was just my mum and the dog filming my start, and I kicked off again at 5 p.m. I still used my adrenaline rush, but this time, I knew how to recognize when it was wearing off. I knew my average speed was higher than it was six months before, and deep down, I knew I would finish this time. It’s a feeling I can’t explain, but I knew that in 24 hours, I would hold the record. 

I kept moving, not sprinting, but steady. No downed trees this time, just a fast trail stretching as far as I could see. I stopped for some pierogies in Connellsville and kept rolling. The sun dipped below the mountains, the sky faded to a starry blue, and the night stretched on ahead of me as my mileage rose. I didn’t feel too tired until Meyersdale, my next stop. After a protein shake and some fruit, I pedaled onward. From Meyersdale to Cumberland is a 20-mile descent, and I was looking forward to a break.

My next milestone was the Eastern Continental Divide, the highest point on the GAP Trail. I started to coast, and my eyes began to tire. I couldn’t seem to keep them open, even though my legs still spun with little effort. For most of the miles, I had to consciously blink my eyes open to ensure I was still on the trail, and I began to wonder how I was supposed to make it to sunrise. Eventually, I resorted to lip-syncing to Hannah Montana, hoping it would jog my brain into thinking I had energy. For some reason, it worked! So as I rocked out to “If We Were A Movie,” I found the motivation to keep going forward. 

Mum met me in Cumberland for a quick stop at 3 a.m., and I kept riding. There would be no elevation change from here on out, just flat spinning. As I passed the penitentiary, I saw a light on the trail behind me. I got scared out of my wits and sprinted as far as I could. Next thing I knew, I made it to Paw-Paw Tunnel, where I had called the ride the last time. I was feeling good and ahead of schedule. I didn’t stop for long; I just kept going. The sun began to rise, and it got humid, but my pedals kept turning toward my goal. The sun rose higher, and I grew increasingly tired, but I knew I wouldn’t stop. I’d made it so far, and I knew I could finish. The Western Maryland Rail Trail provided some relief, being paved for about 30 miles. I was soon past it and back on the C&O towpath. It was rough, but I knew it would get better in about 20 miles. 

Now, the details get blurry. I pushed over a detour where a dam is being repaired, and Dad met me in Williamsport at mile 215. I didn’t want to stop for long. I just needed to keep going. He told me that the record has been updated: it’s now 290 miles, held by Riccardo Sporzon. It didn’t change my goal much, as I was aiming for at least that. So, I kept riding. I made it to the part of the trail that I know well from our group rides in October, and I felt so close to my goal. It began to truly feel real. The miles ticked by: 240, 250, 260, 270. I was so tired that I felt like I could barely move, and my neck had seized up. But I was now 20 miles away from the record. It was so close to my grasp. A quick stop in Point of Rocks gave me a burrito and an adrenaline rush. I was so close!

I didn’t shut my phone off for the last few miles as it ticked down 285, 286, 287. And then it happened: mile 291 with about 30 minutes before the 24-hour mark. I couldn’t send much in the way of texts, but I messaged Dad and my best friend Grace, “I broke the record,” before filming a quick video. Texts rolled in from friends and family watching me on Instagram, telling me to keep going. I couldn’t reply, but each one reminded me how far I’d come. Keep riding, keep riding. And I did. Right up until 23:59:59, where I stopped my Strava at a crossroads. I had made 294.3 miles in 24 hours and broken the world record. 

It felt surreal, but I was happy. Somehow, I had broken a world record at 16 years old. I was supported by so many people throughout the ride. They messaged and commented, and every single one was something encouraging me to keep going. The support of the people around me helped me stay motivated, and I am truly grateful. In the end, I will remember the night on the trail and the day spinning forward. I’ll remember the day I broke the world record, and that will carry me through the hard times on future rides.

Further Reading

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