The ride is 1,111 miles on January 1st, finished inside 24 hours. That's the whole requirement. Ride it with us from Oklahoma City to Las Vegas, or ride your 1,111 wherever you are. 1,111 miles is 1,111 miles.
This page is the full picture: the day, the route, the plan, and the challenges for men who may not ride at all.
We stage in the greater Oklahoma City area. The exact spot gets disclosed 14 days before the ride, and the finish in Las Vegas gets the same treatment. At 4:25 AM we go silent. At 4:30, kickstands up.
This is not a group ride. There's no pace car and no formation. We stage together, we go silent together, and kickstands come up together. Then you ride your ride. Your speed. Your stops. Your reason. We look out for each other out there, but the commitment is yours to complete. That's the point. The ride is a demonstration, and nobody can demonstrate it for you.
That minute at 4:25 is for what every man carries. For a lot of us, that's a name. Someone we loved. Someone we still ride for. Say it in your head, or say it out loud to the men next to you before kickstands come up. Either way, the miles are theirs too.
This is the flagship route, the one we stage and ride together. Your 1,111 miles can run anywhere. Ours run here.
Interstate 40, the whole way. Oklahoma City through Amarillo, Albuquerque, and Flagstaff, then up into Las Vegas. 1,111 miles.
If the weather turns. January weather is real. We watch the forecast all week, and we're prepared to run an alternate route if conditions call for it. The date doesn't move. The miles don't shrink. The road can change.
Below is what a plan can look like. It's a demonstration, not a formalized schedule: a reference for building your own. Stop areas and timing shapes only. The legs run short on purpose: winter cuts a tank's range, and cold cuts a rider's. No man has to match this plan, and no man should ride a plan he didn't make his own.
| Leg | Stretch | Distance | Shape of it |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Greater OKC staging area to western Oklahoma | ~150 mi | Depart 4:30 AM CT. Dark and cold. First fuel before sunrise. |
| 2 | Western Oklahoma to Amarillo | ~130 mi | Sunrise on the panhandle. Short stop. |
| 3 | Amarillo to eastern New Mexico | ~150 mi | Cross into Mountain Time. |
| 4 | Eastern New Mexico to Albuquerque | ~140 mi | Midday. Fuel and real food. |
| 5 | Albuquerque to western New Mexico | ~140 mi | The road starts climbing. |
| 6 | Western New Mexico to Flagstaff | ~150 mi | The highest, coldest stretch. Longer stop. |
| 7 | Flagstaff to western Arizona | ~145 mi | Descending. Evening light. |
| 8 | Western Arizona to Las Vegas | ~100 mi | The last hundred. Done with hours to spare. |
The road tops seven thousand feet at Flagstaff. In January, that's the coldest hour of the ride. The plan crosses it mid-afternoon, the warmest window the day has, and is dropping toward the desert floor before dark. That's the whole strategy. Cold is the enemy. Daylight is the tool.
Arizona doesn't observe daylight saving time. From the New Mexico line on, you're on Mountain Standard clocks into Vegas.
Expectations and suggestions, not requirements. You know your ride better than we do.
1,111 winter miles in a day is a serious ride. Know your limits and know your machine. This is not a first-season ride, and there's no shame in riding one of the challenges this year and riding the 1,111 next year.
Fresh service before December. Tires, battery, charging system, fluids. A January morning finds every weakness a bike has.
Winter is the whole game. Layering, wind protection, heated gear if you have it. Cover every inch of skin. Plan for temperatures in the teens or lower before sunrise.
Sleep the week before. Hydrate. Eat real food at stops. Fatigue is the real enemy on hour twelve, not the cold.
Every rider is self-supported. Carry what you'd need to sit on a cold roadside for an hour, and tell someone your plan.
Watch the forecast the final week. You ride your ride, and this call is part of it. Every man makes his own, and the date comes back every year.
Can't get to Oklahoma? Ride your own road. Same day, same commitment, wherever you are. Document it, carry your reason, and you rode the Sparrow Run.
Riding your 1,111 somewhere else? You're in the run. Get the ride brief so you know how the day works. Take a photo of your odometer at the start and another at the finish. Post it and tag the run, or carry it quietly. Either way, it counted. And either way, there's a place for you on the wall, if you want it.
Or email ride@sparrowrun.org
Follow the run on Instagram → Hold your spot on the wall →No. The ride is 1,111 miles on January 1st, finished inside 24 hours. That's the whole requirement. Ride it with us from OKC to Vegas, or ride your 1,111 wherever you are. 1,111 miles is 1,111 miles.
No, and that's deliberate. We stage together, go silent together at 4:25, and launch together at 4:30. After that you ride your ride. Your speed, your stops, your reason. We look out for each other out there, but every man completes his own commitment. Nobody can demonstrate it for you.
Most men do, whether they say so or not. Bring the name. The silence at 4:25 is for exactly that. Say it out loud to the men around you or keep it to yourself. It counts the same, and the miles carry it either way.
Nothing. There's no registration and no fee. If you want to carry the sparrow or put your word behind the ride, that lives on the Support page. It's never a condition of riding.
Be honest with yourself. 1,111 winter miles in one day is a serious ride, and it asks a lot of you and your machine. If you're not there yet, complete one of the challenges this year and ride the 1,111 when you're ready. The date comes back every January.
Plan for real winter. Layers, wind protection, heated gear if you have it, and cover every inch of skin. Expect the coldest hours before sunrise. The Plan section above covers preparation in more detail.
We watch the forecast all week and we're prepared to run an alternate route if conditions call for it. And every man makes his own go or no-go call. You ride your ride, and that decision is part of it. The ride comes back every year. You should too.
No. Every rider is self-supported. Carry what you'd need to handle a problem on a cold roadside, and tell someone your plan. We help each other when we can. Plan like nobody's coming.
Take a photo of your odometer at the start and another at the finish. That's the whole system. There's no prize and nobody's checking. The only person you could cheat is yourself.
The Sparrow Run was designed to be finished on two wheels, but we welcome all vehicles. The commitment is the miles, not the machine. One thing stands either way: this is not a race and it's not a rally, and no behavior that puts a rider or a driver at risk will be tolerated. Ride your ride. Drive your drive. Finish your 1,111.
Then pick something else that's genuinely hard for you and do it January 1st. The challenges have their own page. The rules never change: it has to be hard, and it has to cost you something.
Get the ride brief. Drop your email above and you'll get everything you need to plan your January 1st.