EDITORIAL
Cop Tales
Author: Nick Desautels
We all have a few…
Pace Car It had been a beautiful day but the night had turned cold. At this point, I just wanted to get home before I froze to death. Needless to say, I was exceeding the speed limit. Zooming down the highway, I came up behind a State Trooper, who was also running well above the limit but slightly slower than I had been. Ticket Avoidance Rule Number One is that you never pass a cop on the highway, so I backed off and allowed him to set our speed. Soon, I noticed that he was slowing down a bit. He held his speed around 80 to 85 mph, with me following along nearly a quarter mile behind. At one point, the Trooper flicked his cherries on and then quickly turned them back off but I thought nothing of it. The highway was empty that night. By now I was beyond cold. Thankfully, we were getting close to my exit. Anticipating an end to my shivering, I nudged the throttle open a little further; gaining on Smokey a bit but never attempting anything close to a pass. Suddenly, the trooper swerved across to the far left lane and slammed on his brakes. The moment I was past, he swung in behind me and hit his lights, pulling me over.
The trooper stopped alongside me and rolled down his passenger’s window, then growled, “Get off the bike and come up to my car.” He pulled ahead and parked on the shoulder in front of my bike. I dismounted and approached his window. The officer looked at me and asked, “What does it say on the back of my car?” Startled by the question, I paused for a moment and actually walked to the back of his car. I said “Illinois State Police, Sir.” He barked, “That’s right, it doesn’t say PACE CAR, does it?” I explained that I was simply trying to make it home in a timely manner because it was so cold. He threatened to write me a ticket, saying “I’m not the one who chose to ride a motorcycle tonight, am I?” In the end, he let me slide and I rode home laughing in my helmet. Test Ride We were watching ice hockey one night in a friend’s garage when I noticed an old Yamaha dirt bike rotting away in the corner. I asked where the machine had come from. My buddy replied that his girlfriend had brought it over but they’d been unable to get it running.
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