The following is a purely fictional account…
A guy I know happened to be driving down to the gym the other day, to work off some stress. He had his radar detector on, but the car he was in happened to be one of those cars that has numerous ssssssssaaaaaaaaaaaaaafety systems that emit their own constant radar signature, which means the detector is constantly beeping false alarms. So he had turned down the volume and – worse – wasn’t paying as much attention to the displays.
At which point pork appeared.
Off on the shoulder, a tawny colored unmarked swinemobile.
Lurking, waiting. There to entrap harming-no-one drivers for the manufactured crime of “speeding.”
The guy I know was doing that, abundantly.
He was faced with a split-second decision. Either supinely slow and pull off – and meekly accept being financially punished for not having caused harm to anyone – or put the hammer down and register a vote for screw you.
The second option seemed better.
Cheaper, certainly.
What is styled a “ticket” is compound theft. First, your money is stolen by the two-legged porker, on behalf of the city, county or state he works for. It is not a small sum. Usually at least $100 – plus “court costs” – which is a double outrage. It is like being charged a special add-on fee by the checkout girl at the supermarket for deigning to handle your money. But at least at the supermarket you are getting something for your money.
But of course it doesn’t end there. The secondary theft comes via the insurance mafia – which we’re forced to do “business” with, so they can charge whatever they like and for whatever reason. We can’t (legally) say no.
Doesn’t matter that you’ve never filed a claim or incurred any costs. As with the “ticket” itself, we are dealing with manufactured excuses to separate you from your money. All nice and legal.
Since we aren’t allowed to say no – and not having harmed anyone or anything isn’t a viable defense in court – our only viable option is to drop the hammer, circumstances permitting.
Which, in this case, they did.
First, the guy was already moving – and at a speedy clip – Â while the roadside hog was still stationary. There would several invaluable seconds before his cloven hoofs could bring him up to speed.
By which time, the guy would have achieved visual separation. This is absolutely critical.
Out of sight is halfway to out of reach.
Our guy used those invaluable seconds to disappear down one of the many available backwoods roads that diverged from the main road he’d been on. The more distance he could put between him and his oinky antagonist, the harder it would be for the snout of said oinker to huff the scent.
Hunker down – and wait awhile.
Which our guy did.
The duration of this hunkering down period will vary with circumstances. If it is an absolutely safe spot (not someone you don’t know’s driveway, as a for-instance) and you can call a friend to come get you, do that. Leave the car, go get it later.
Our guy wasn’t so positioned and so, after what seemed a reasonable interval, ventured cautiously back onto the main road. The coast seemed clear, so he resumed his journey.
This happy illusion dissipated about 5 minutes later, when – coming the other way, in the opposite lane – the same tawny-colored swinewagon, backtracking after its fruitless pursuit.
This encounter, luckily for our man, took place at the top of a steeply descending series of s turns, which our protagonist took full advantage of. The oink would have to stop/turn and recover his speed. By which time our guy was – once again – gone.
Go to ground, hunker down.
This time for a good long while.
A porker went hungry.
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Had a “friend” with a home built 1965 Triumph hard tail chop. Friend was cruising loud and fast through suburban NJ, when rollers lit up and hauled ass after him.
Friend evaded porkers by diverting through an ungated golf course which attached to ungated cemetery which dumped out a side road, a half mile away.
Friend related it was the best ride of his life.
That sounds like a route batman would’ve planned
Had a friend on the Skyline Drive meet a porker going north while travelling south on a motorcycle at a brisk pace.
Said friend upped pace to well over brisk for 4 or 5 minutes having a spectacular ride. (Said friend has always indicated it was one of those spectacular rides that you remember forever…..)
Knowing that he had broken contact my friend parked at a overlook. Grabbed his lunch. Swapped out for a different jacket he had in his tank bag. Pulled 6 or so cigarettes out, ripped the ends off leaving a pile of butts and stashed half his lunch and just made it appear he had been there a while. Kicked back enjoying the sun eating lunch and reading a recent motorcyclist magazine that was in the tank bag.
Shortly porker snuffled up to said friend and demanded (over the hailer) he come over to the porker mobile. Friend approached and they chatted a bit …. Porker indicated that “He got my friend”. Friend said oh you must mean that guy headed south…came by a couple of minutes ago like a bat outta hell…..I’ve just been sitting here smoking a few cigs and eating my lunch….so have a nice day!”…porker steamed for a moment then indicated that “You got me….but don’t let me catch you again doing that”
“Sir you must have me confused with someone else……”
Boo Yah!!!
My friend did the same thing back in 2009. He was driving a 2005 Honda odyssey going 55 in a 45 in the country around 9pm. He saw lights and decided to floor it. Drove into a surburb and parked in a driveway and waited for the cops to drive past. Then he pulled out and continued on his journey. I asked why did he flee and he said he wasn’t thinking the first thing he could do was floor the gas and had to commit after that.
Hi Mooeing,
Yup. They give us every incentive to do this. We’d try to get away from a street mugger, right? So why not the official muggers?
Not to change the subject, as when this happens, it feels great. But, “It is like being charged a special add-on fee by the checkout girl at the supermarket for deigning to handle your money.”
Does Virginia seriously have an extra fee for this? Or is it just a particular store?
Yes – they call it “court costs.”
I got away with that once, (oh, sorry, actually it was a “friend”) although there really weren’t high speeds involved. I was the lead car on a narrow one way street, doing maybe 12 – 15 mph over the limit with very heavy traffic behind me. Porky on a motorcycle had me dead to rights on his radar gun. He flipped on his lights as I went by, but he couldn’t pull out because the traffic was so heavy and by the time he got into the road he was maybe 10 or 12 cars behind me. Came around a very sharp bend, and lo and behold, one of the largest car dealers in the area right there! I pulled in (Porky was on the other side of the bend so he didn’t see me) and parked in the front line of the used cars. Got out and pretended I was checking out my own car as Porky cruised on by, lights and siren wailing away chasing after me. Hung around the lot for 10 or 15 minutes to be on the safe side and then went on my way. One of the best feelings of my life to beat those assholes!