People often crack jokes about the long California winters, but after months of heavy rain the clouds parted and one chilly Saturday I was able to squeeze in 250 miles of fun.
Putting around in the Sierra foothills is a special treat for me. Normally, humping out a minimum of 1 hour of freeway time just don’t fit into my schedule so most of my riding lately keeps me in the Bay Area.
This particular stretch of highway 49 is a 2-lane buffet of sweeping turns with convenient passing lanes every 2.5 miles or so to keep the traffic moving along. So you can understand why some slow poke in a Mercedes was pissing me off by driving slow in the passing lane, right? In an uncharacteristic move on my part, I was suddenly sized with a loathing hatred of this person who was single-handedly ruining my fun. A right hand pass in sued, and I’m ashamed to admit a gesture was administered.
Right there, I’m guilty of a couple of road-rage hash marks. Despite my sense of ambassadorial duty for all motorcyclists, I had just put myself right square in the ranks of the embarrassments to our sport. In further reflection, I realize that even if the driver wasn’t acting with a lot of courtesy, I had done more than just flip her the bird. I became all motorcyclists to that woman. If she was like a lot of drivers out there, I had just affirmed her dislike of riders. That to me was the big loss of the situation, though I had not thought of it at the time; I was too busy braking for the Police car in the other side of the road.
A quick glance down confirmed that I was flying a bit low. I thought I had gotten away with it until my I saw the cruiser get behind me at the next red light. I knew I was busted, but I wasn’t sure by how much until we spoke. If the cop had seen the right hand pass and the middle finger, there wasn’t much I could do to plead my case.
Gloves and helmet off, I turned to the Policeman and greeted him. I hadn’t been pulled over in at least 10 years.
The officer explained that he had pulled me over for my speed. Not that I’m a hardened criminal or anything, but I know enough about Police to know that honesty is the best policy. God knows everyone tries to come up with some sob story about having to pee or pleading ignorance, but I know from experience that usually the golden rule applies.
I admitted that I had indeed sped up over the limit to pass slower traffic, explaining to the policeman my personal views on speeding, which I almost never do (really!) and that I was a very safe rider, sighting my various gear and motorcycle safety upgrades. I apologized for my poor judgment and assured him that it would not happen again. After pleading my case and presenting my license, registration, and insurance information, I waited for my verdict.
The officer returned and explained that he saw me separate from traffic pretty fast, and though he did not have me on radar, he knew I must have been doing 70 in a 55, a $400 fine. But he appreciated my honesty and the fact that I didn’t waste his time with some elaborate excuse.
No ticket today, though I didn’t really deserve the break. Honestly, as I wrote this story I was almost embarrassed to post it. Given the spirit of my blog, I decided that if it helped someone else make better riding decisions, then it was worth the credibility hit that I would take. So riders out there, keep in mind your responsibility to yourselves, your families and the community in general and keep it safe and legal!
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