Ride Diary

Crash Test Dummies Fall Tour

Many thanks to Don McArthur, Tom Noffsinger, Larry Ice, Dan Franks, Bob Sydnor, Rich, Butch Sims, and Jim Heinz (aka the Crash Test Dummies, some honorary, some actual) for a wonderful weekend of riding. I won't duplicate official CTD ringleader and historian Don McArthur's post on the tour. What follows is a narrative about my rides to and from the CTD field headquarters in Wytheville, Va.

Friday, Oct. 6th

After looking at the forecast and its call for unseasonable wintry weather in the mountains, I decided to pack for three seasons and I hit the road about 8:30. It was in the balmy 70s when I left DC and headed down 29 towards Charlottesville, my old stomping grounds. It was warm enough to wear shorts under my cordura pants. Shorts would prove about as functional as Jim Heinz's fairing bra by the time the trip was over. I had the "mule" loaded up with tank bag, seat bag, saddlebags and sleeping bag bungeed to the plastic just above the tail light. I made good time down 29 and decided to take a slight diversion, down US15 through Orange to Rt. 20 and then on to Charlottesville, since I wasn't due to meet Tom Noffsinger in Lynchburg until noon. Route 20 is a very scenic and twisty run through vineyards and past James Madison's home at Montpelier. For old time's sake, as a two-time graduate of Mr. Jefferson's University, I buzzed the main drag of Charlottesville and gassed up. Two and a half hours out and the motorcycling gods were smiling: warm, sunny, good roads and no traffic snarls. The NH was running like a champ, sipping fuel as it always does on the highway. The end of trip stats indicated 54 mpg.

Through the miracle of cellular technology, Tom and I rendezvoused in Lynchburg and assaulted the buffet tables at the Old Country Buffet. After getting caught up on our various activities since our last ride and a hearty lunch, we hit the road for Roanoke. It was actually getting hot and a bank sign read 82 degrees. This would not last long and the wind was picking up, making for wicked cross winds that roll down off the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge, compounded by swarms of eighteen-wheelers that made for probably the most unpleasant part of the trip.

We exited on to the calm of the Blue Ridge Parkway, skirted Roanoke, and picked up 221 south towards Hillsville, a nice road with fairly fast running but enough curves to keep things interesting. The temperature plummeted and we stopped in Floyd for a costume change. Out came the jacket liners, heavy gloves, glove liners, etc. I bet Tom wished I hadn't talked him out of mounting his Plexifairing III for the trip! A bank thermometer read 62, so it wasn't our imagination that the temperature was dropping faster than a squid on bald tires. We wouldn't see temps in the 60s for the rest of the trip. We finally rolled into the KOA campground about six, having both covered 350 miles for the day.

Saturday, Oct. 7th

Today the nine of us had a great run through the mountain ridges of Virginia and West Virginia, complete with canyon carving Eastern style (can't see through any of these turns!), a crash scene reenactment, pesky Shriners, and lunch at Granny's. About 250 miles all told. We retired for the night after relaxing in the Karaoke/batting cage/pool hall recreation center, not quite knowing what morning's first light would bring. Forecasters were hedging their bets and snow seemed a good possibility. One of the campground staff assured Don that if it snowed, he'd have the campground driveways plowed. Gee thanks.

It didn't need to snow for me to drop my bike and earn my stripes as a "Dummy." The "roads" in the campground consist of dirt, boulders and loose gravel stirred up by the behemoth RVs. I got into one of the loose areas and bike felt like it was in snow, I lost traction, put both feet down, but the bike was beyond the tipping point, so I put it down gracefully, hit the kill switch and then righted it using the time honored, "butt to the bike and walk it up" method. No one saw me (a clean drop!), but I had to fess up when Tom and Bob asked why it took so long for me to get to the bike parking area. My NH runs as well on its side as it does upright.

Sunday, Oct. 8th

I was awake and couldn't sleep at oh-dark-thirty, so I hit the showers and soon our entire cabin was ready to go. Luckily the dire warnings about snow were for naught. It was clear, but cold, with frost on the ground. I put on every piece of warm clothing I had with me, loaded up the bike and we headed to Burger Thing for breakfast. We said our good-byes and Tom and I decided to head east to get out of the mountains and the cold ASAP and to reduce his trip time to a straight shot across the southern tier of the Commonwealth. The bank in Hillsville said a whopping 37 degrees when we stopped; it was surely in the twenties on the ridge tops though. I took it easy through the first couple of turns to give the Macadams some time to warm up. They seemed to do better than the K591s I ran last winter.

We stopped at the Blue Ridge Parkway as sleet began to fall and we warmed up inside. The lady behind the counter assured us it was 10 degrees warmer in Stuart at the foot of the mountain, meaning a whopping 40 degrees. The Volunteer Fire Department was hosting a pancake breakfast there at Meadows of Dan. Ordinarily I would have been all over that, but it was too cold and I was very, very glad to get off that last mountain. Some day I'd like to travel that stretch of US 58 when my knees aren't knocking the tank from the cold.

We hammered east toward Danville and Tom motioned for a stop. I'm very grateful he was along on this trip. I like travelling together anyway, but in conditions like this it can be a life saver to get off the road and make sure we're both coherent. I didn't realize how seriously chilled I was until we stopped for that coffee break in Martinsville. After another hour, we stopped for lunch, chatted for a bit, soaked up some heat, and said our good-byes, as I headed up 360 to Richmond. Luckily the cloud cover lifted and it warmed up. It looks like coming east was the right call. After a fairly fast run up 360 and I-95 I arrived in DC around 5, eight and a half hours after leaving Wytheville. The trip was only 20 miles longer than the route via Lynchburg, much more comfortable for me and much shorter for Tom, so it was absolutely the right decision.