From Vegas to Reno, the Story of America’s Longest, Most Grueling Off-Road Race

Our job that afternoon was simple in theory yet endlessly complicated in practice, follow the Polaris Factory team from the race’s starting point roughly 50 miles north of Las Vegas to its finishing point 50 miles south of Reno in Carson City, Nevada, taking photos at each pit stop along the way. For the media and chase cars involved, the whole affair is nearly as taxing on the mind and body as the race itself. Especially for me, a person who had never had a racing driver’s physique or even a slim one in any respect. If anything, this made the day’s menu of gas station hot dogs, pizza, and chicken tenders feel even more familiar.

At each point along the way to 13 bespoke pit locations, groups of Polaris Racing Team personnel dedicated to each stop gathered with gas pumps, welding gear, and all the spare parts and equipment the vehicle needs to maintain pace in a sprint across the Nevada desert. No sooner is the car fueled up and checked over by the pit crew than the driver sets off for the next pit. At this point, the finished pit crew packs up and heads back to either California or Mexico, depending on which side of the Polaris Racing operation is on-site at any given point in the race. Unlike the barely controlled chaos of Baja, crews are compelled to pick up all their trash, including busted tires that must be carried with the vehicle to the finish.

But amongst all the fervor of the work being done at each pit, one consistent attaché was Cayden MacCachren’s father, Rob. As part of Cayden’s personal chase team, Rob consistently talked with his son over racing communications hardware bolstered for the first time via SpaceX’s Starlink. He was also in the pits every step of the way, a sports bottle full of ice-cold water at the ready each time Cayden stopped for fuel and maintenance. If that’s not the most wholesome thing we’ve ever seen covering motorsports, we don’t know what is.

While racers of all stripes ripped across the sand, kicking up 500-plus-foot walls of dust behind them, our route alongside them brought us through a handful of towns that showcase peak Nevada weirdness. Places like Goldfield, Tonopah, and the ghost town of Coaldale, sprawling with abandoned classic cars, abandoned mining equipment, and a world-famous haunted clown motel, would have been phenomenally good fun in itself. Sadly, that’ll have to wait. While the media in our chase SUV were stuffing ourselves with greasy fast food, the setting sun heralded the most grueling portion of the race for its participants.

Photo: Polaris/HighRev Photography