As I watched Graham Sykes mount his rocket bike, a brief worry flashed through my mind that I might be filming a fatal moment. Yet as he raced past at hundreds of miles per hour and surrounded me in a cloud of steam, I realized my concern was unnecessary. This counts as routine for Sykes.

I attended the Santa Pod raceway in Bedfordshire, England, to meet Sykes and his crew while they prepared his fully steam-driven bike, called Force of Nature, for a possible record attempt at a drag-racing event. After navigating the crowds entering the site, I located Sykes and his group amid vehicles of every type as they readied the machine for its single scheduled pass that afternoon.

Sykes appeared remarkably composed and offered me a marshmallow upon my first view of the bike. He noted that he usually avoids heavy meals before a run and sticks to sugary treats instead. The machine stood out with its elongated shape and large funnel exhausts at the rear. Only the two wheels confirmed it as a motorcycle. As a mechanical engineer, Sykes crafted nearly every part himself in his home workshop.

Up close the components looked as if they came from a professional lab rather than a backyard shed. The core of the propulsion system is a 120-liter boiler heated to roughly 260 degrees Celsius. The process builds enormous pressure that releases in about three seconds once the lights turn green, driving the bike beyond 200 miles per hour.

The boiler itself is the sole part Sykes did not build. He obtained it from a firm that supplies pressurized tanks for nuclear and energy sectors because safety is critical. An explosion would endanger not only him but everyone nearby.

Despite the risks, Sykes stayed calm and relaxed while performing pre-run checks and greeting fans who stopped by for autographs. He clearly felt at home.

He explained that he had always wanted to ride a rocket bike, but since no one would offer him one he decided to construct his own. The idea drew from Evel Knievel's 1970s attempt to cross Snake River Canyon with a super-heated water rocket.

Even so, nerves appear before every run. Sykes described the mix of adrenaline and a small reservation that surfaces when he prepares to press the button, knowing his life could change.

I took a spot beside the track with a clear sight of the start line and room to film his pass. In addition to the camera in my hand and three on tripods, I had mounted several GoPros to the bike with heavy clamps. Still, capturing the brief run required careful timing.

Practice runs with other drag vehicles helped me prepare. Their speeds and sounds were impressive, yet the real moment arrived when the team signaled the start. Sykes described the sequence: his wife removes the safety pin, shows it to him, taps his helmet, and the run begins.

He added that nothing fully prepares a rider for the sensation, which feels like a powerful kick from behind as G-forces push the body rearward.

The lights changed and Sykes launched forward. A massive steam plume burst from the exhausts, knocking one tripod camera thirty feet into a barrier. I followed him with my lens before the steam wall reached me.

The sight was remarkable, and I could only imagine the feeling aboard the bike. My own fastest acceleration experience reached 60 miles per hour in 2.8 seconds, which already felt extreme. Sykes achieves the same in under half a second.

The bike did not surpass its prior marks that day, yet the run remained safe. Sykes's wife noted that seeing the parachute deploy at the end confirms all is well.

Each pass also demonstrates steam power to the spectators. Sykes pointed out that many assume steam is outdated, yet most power stations still rely on it. The team originally aimed for a five-second quarter-mile at 200 miles per hour, goals never before met with steam, and they have since succeeded. They now target a four-second run, and their focus suggests they will reach it soon.