The Last Wave
By Anthony Reynolds

July 25, 2005, today is going to be a good day, I’m scheduled to roll out this morning and meet up
with some friends for a day of motorcycle riding in Northern Virginia. The plan is to meet up with Steve
in Ashland VA.,  head up I-95 towards Quantico take exit 150, and meet up with David and Sean at the
local Burger King.  We pulled up and we were all smiles because we knew the ride was about to be on.  I
took the time to snap a few pictures and then we were off to meet up with 4 other guys at the gas station
up the street.

Once at the gas station, we exchanged names and became motorcycle brothers on the spot. We filled the
tanks and headed out towards Route 211.  David told me he was going to make this ride something to
remember because I had ridden two hours to meet them. I don’t know the roads we took, but the
smile under my helmet was priceless. I hadn’t seen roads like this since I left Germany:  tarmac filled
with sweepers, off-camber turns, left and right hairpins, and decreasing radius turns. A true nightmare for
an inexperienced rider.  Once again the smile under my helmet had passed both ears, but things were
quickly bought back into perspective with a left hand turn at the crest of a hill. Quickly regaining my
composure, I looked all the way to the left so the bike would follow my eyes and not run off the road.

Yes, I was snapped back into reality for I know my chosen sport is a dangerous one and we must not
become complacent at “ANY� time, the end result could be death. Before I knew it, we were
stopping for gas again and I was telling David thanks for showing me the road and not leaving anyone
behind. That’s when he told me, “dude, we haven’t even scratched the surface, that was not
Route 211�. "BEEEEEEEEEP, please stand by for an emergency broadcast�. "What! That’s
not the road," I asked him.  He just smiled and walked away.

I looked around, and everyone was having a great time and truly enjoying themselves. I remember
thinking, "this is how it should be, riding and having a good time with friends". Finally, it was time to
mount up and David once again took time out to tell everyone about the road we were going to take and
he stressed the importance of riding at your own pace and taking your time. He further explained the
technical aspects of the road and cautioned us to be very very careful.  With this in mind, we rode off,
not realizing that David had just saved our lives.

Route 22 was all  that and more; constant high-speed switchbacks and two lanes to boot.  We had a great
time going up, and then the turn that David warned us about came up. When I realized it was the turn, it
was two late and I was already committed. Luckily, I was not speeding so I was able to control my entry
and make the exit. To put things in perspective, the turn was a 180-degree blind decreasing radius.
WOW!!  We all made it to the top safely and rejoiced about the great ride. Steve and I headed down the
hill and saw some other motorcyclist coming up.  They were moving pretty good, and as always we
extended the motorcyclist wave of friendship. But for one of them, it would be his last wave.

Once Steve and I made it to the bottom, we talked for a minute and then decided to do one more run up
the hill. We headed up and made it to the turn that David warned us about. Cars starting flashing, telling
us there was an accident ahead.  We put are flashers on and headed on up the hill until we came upon the
accident. At first glance, I thought it was Sean, but it was someone else.  It was the guy I had just waved
to five minutes ago.  I got off my bike and ran to where he was, but people were already doing CPR on
the guy I decided to head up the hill to slow traffic down and warn other people. When Sean came up on
the accident, the woman that was giving CPR asked him if he could take over and he did. Sean gave
CPR, but later said he could feel the guy slipping away and saw him turning blue. It was later revealed
that the person was an Air Force member out of Andrews AFB, and he leaves behind a wife and two
children.

By now, I’m sure the accident report has made the headlines detailing how a motorcyclist crashed on
Route 211  in Northern VA. (July 25, 2005).  I was not involved in the accident, nor did I see it happen.  
But I do remember waving to a fellow motorcyclist as I always do, never thinking that it would be his last
wave.