Some 30+ yrs ago, before my older brother passed away, he had a motorcycle. It was a KLR 600. It was a big single cylinder thumper. Top speed was around 100 mph or so. He did not share his toys very often, so I was very lucky to get to ride it. It was liquid cooled, and had a radiator on the front. Distinctive in appearance.
On this occasion, I was riding it into the nearby town. I was running about 85 mph, in a 55. I looked up, and there was the police, in the other lane, coming towards me. The cop had caught me on radar. I grabbed both front and rear brakes, and looked at the speedometer. 82 mph. Well, I quickly slowed it to 55, and rolled past the cop. His blue lights were on, and he pointed at me. I knew. I also knew my brother had out run them multiple times. Of course, they assumed I was him. My brother would be ashamed if I did not out run them. But, I was more prone to deal with authority, in a straight forward manner, than to alienate them. I decided not to flee. I turned left, into the paved entrance of the old Glenwood Drive in. This is a relic of previous generations, where you would drive to the movies, and set a wired speaker in your window, and watch movies on a huge 30'??50' white screen, with a projector. I had a crush on the drive in theater s owners wife, and could never figure out if she was 15, or older. I thought she was his daughter, as she looked much younger than she was. I was never quite sure about her.
Anyhow, I turned into the drive in entrance. Then I started thinking. I'm a sitting duck. Why wait for him to vent his ticket book spleen on me? What am I doing here? So, I gassed it, driving into the drive in, which had big cedar trees lining the entrance. Then, I turned left again, between the cedars. Facing the highway. And, turned the motor off. I had to wait for a bit.
Hwaaaaaaaaammmmmmm came that cop car. His big 4 barrel carburetor, working furiously to propel that high powered v8 after me, to save the planet, as I was wasting fuel. I waited a bit. Kicked that 600cc motor back to life, backed it up, eased back out to the road, and drove back the way I'd come. I decided I maybe did not need to go into town right now. I thought to myself, "that's spending a gallon of gas, to catch a few ounces".. It was the pandemic of the 70's, 80's and 90's. Fuel crisis.
I never saw that cop again, (that I knew of), and now they were after my brother even more. I never talked, and the whole matter was forgotten, by me.
Then, on you tube, I came across some kid, with a go pro, and a dirt bike, playing cat and mouse with the poor local cops. They never caught him, because he would run down trails, fields, and places cars don't go well.
It sure brought back memories.
I'm 55 now, and my oldest son who lives with us is 16. I'm thinking about my largely mis -spent youth.
I think he's smarter than I was.
Nate
They never caught him,
Well, not as far as you know...he who has the go-pro controls the narrative.
Well, that's true. Here is the video. Fast foreward to about 1:20.
I told my kids, "Those cops remember, and they plan, and they do have the time to figure things out." It's dumb to make hostile relations with them like this.
Nate
And there may be more than one of them.?ÿ The old saying is you may outrun the cop but you can't outrun his radio.
The first state trooper to pull me over was officer "Savage" (according to his name tag).?ÿ He did not say much, mostly just wrote out the ticket while wearing his cool hand Luke sunglasses.
@bill93?ÿ
In the 80's when the crotch rockets were getting big I had a friend that would run from the cops on his KZ1000.?ÿ One night a cop pulled in behind him on a busy So Cal street and my friend took off as the lights came on. He no more than started accelerating when another police car going the opposite way turned on his lights and turned in to his lane.?ÿ He hit the side of the police car and flew through the air a long ways.?ÿ He was gaining his composure when the officer leaning over him said "your not dead, I tried to kill you".?ÿ They took him to the hospital where they found nothing wrong with him and then to jail.?ÿ No go pros or chest cameras back then. If coyotes can learn to hunt in packs so can cops, especially with radios.?ÿ Changed my friends perspective quickly on running from the cops.?ÿ Jp?ÿ?ÿ
I can't drive,,,,,,,,,,,,,55
Driving from Spokane to Chicago in my 67 Mustang 55mph the whole way.......couldn't do it.
Somehow I made it without a ticket.?ÿ
I should have kept that car.?ÿ
As the youngest of a pack of n'er-do-well juvenile delinquents my "running" days were non-existent.?ÿ Because of my brothers the police already knew what we drove and where we lived.?ÿ Running was futile.
Right after I got my license I was stopped by the local minions and I was driving a BSA 441.?ÿ It technically belonged to my older brother, but I had taken possession of it as a "hand-me-down".
I couldn't understand why the officer stopped me.?ÿ He walked up and eyed the bike and asked me where I got it.?ÿ I told him it used to be my brother Cole's, but it was mine now.?ÿ He checked my license and let me go.?ÿ He told me he just wanted to make sure I hadn't stolen Cole's BSA.
Like I said, fighting the law was futile.?ÿ ;)?ÿ
The long arm of the law was revealed to me not too many years ago. Long story short I had been living in St. Louis at the tender age of 16 with my father after my parents had divorced and he was soon moving to Hong Kong. My wheels at the time was a Honda XL 600, single cylinder dual purpose on/off road bike. A buddy in California said he had a job and a place to live out there if I wanted and all I had to do was hop on my bike and ride out to So Cal, so rather than move to Hong Kong, I hit the road. Passing through Kansas on the interstate with the throttle wide open, I failed to notice a small plane flying overhead and on cresting a small rise was surprised to see the entire interstate closed off in front of me by Kansas State Troopers, who informed me on stopping that I had been traveling in excess of 100 mph and a ticket for speeding was my reward and they let me go on?ÿ my way. Having no intention of ever returning to Kansas I quickly forgot about the ticket. Fast forward 35 years later I receive a letter in the mail from our DMV that my drivers license was about to be suspended .... for a speeding ticket issued in Kansas in 1985. It seems the states had recently integrated their ticket databases and my name had popped up from that incident. I called the bailiff at the court house in Kansas and explained the situation and he got a good laugh out of it and issued my state a letter stating that after 35 years they had no record of my citation and the case had been dropped.
I'm still not going back to Kansas.
that's a llllooooonnnnngggg arm for sure.
About 1978 or 1979 I was driving a '64 VW taking my family to Snyder, TX for Christmas.?ÿ Somewhere around a little town named Roby (maybe it was Anson?) I found the only speed trap in Texas on Christmas Eve.
The officer claimed I was doing 75 in a 60.?ÿ I told him there was no way that 40hp VW full of wife, kids and crap would do 75.?ÿ He persisted and issued a citation.
Their preference at that time was for me to pay the ticket before I was released since I was from "out-of-town".?ÿ I had just enough in my pocket to get down there and back.?ÿ I told them I couldn't pay the ticket.?ÿ The nice officer told me he was going to have to put us all in jail.?ÿ I told him to get after it.
I about a millisecond he had two screaming little boys and their mad-as-hell-mother crying and puking and raising hell about being "put in jail".?ÿ I just sat back and waited.?ÿ I'd be damned if I was going to go broke paying that ticket.?ÿ?ÿ
He followed me to his cop-shop and we called my father-in-law in Snyder to verify my story.?ÿ He let us go.?ÿ I'm guessing he didn't want all that family drama in his jail for Christmas.?ÿ I eventually paid the ticket.
I hope the officer's parents eventually got married...
As the youngest of a pack of n'er-do-well juvenile delinquents
Ummm.... Hmmm.. aka: "THEY MADE ME DO IT" spokesman. ???? ?ÿ
In the 55 mph days I was in a station wagon with a professor and four or more graduate students.?ÿ I was the only U.S.-born person in the car.?ÿ Everyone else's first language was definitely not English.?ÿ We were traveling about 250 miles to a meeting and then return the same day.?ÿ I told them I could pretend to be a German-born student with no drivers license.?ÿ Then they could put the peddle to the metal and fly at any speed they could handle.?ÿ I can picture the poor Highway Patrol or County Mountie who might pull us over trying to get a word of English out of any of us.?ÿ The professor knew he would get nailed as the responsible party one way or another sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, 55 mph all the way.
Public endangerment.
Just as bad as DUI.
@jp7191 Cops down there usually can call in a chopper to tail a bike. Watched a crotch rocket take off down an alley trying to ditch the cops. He was still accelerating a half mile down the alley when a police cruiser pulled out in front of him to block his way and the bike hit it at full speed, no break lights, resulting in an enormous fireball. Not something you soon forget.
