Wednesday, November 21, 2012

the lecture


Driving to Portland from Waldport is a significant investment in time. It's about three hours from end to end and that's assuming that a. there isn't a wreck on I-5 that shuts the whole thing down for an hour or two and b. there isn't a miserable, ungodly backup at the 205 or that c. you don't stop to get a diet coke, fill up your truck or visit your sister in Corvallis. Even if you don't dawdle at my sister's house saying things like "Woah! Those cookies sure smell good!" it's still going to be several hours' worth of driving.

So when I get pulled over for speeding while driving over the pass, I have to groan inwardly and mumble a few choice swear words. Because no matter what the outcome, my drive has now become three hours and 30 minutes. And now there probably will be a wreck on I-5. And I just missed the window when the 205 is still passable. Worst of all, my sister and her family have already pissed off to church and there won't be any fresh-baked goods anywhere.

The last time I got pulled over, it was in one of the three usual speedtraps on Highway 20. They are: 1. About 6 miles west of Philomath, just past where the passing lane ends at the bottom of the hill and 2. About a mile west of the Ellmaker rest area and 3. One or two miles in, heading east from Newport.

Now, let me just say, I mean no disrespect here. If you drive these roads more than a few times a year, you'll notice the speedtraps yourselves, without me clueing you in. And I am not anti-police, either. But like all of you, I get frustrated when I get bluelighted, and sometimes, I just have to have a little fun with the young bucks who pull me over. To wit:

The last time I was pulled over was just outside of Newport, at speedtrap #3 listed here. The officer, who looked to be about 22, told me that he while he could give me a citation, instead, he'd give me a long, boring lecture about racing around switchbacks (one of my all-time favorite pastimes) and oversized deer and basically the whole history of the pass.

(I'm paraphrasing).

Because, he went on to explain, I just want to make sure you're safe. 

Mmmm-hmmm.

That's why I'm not going to give you the citation.

Uh-huh, I said. Well.

It's for your own good. 

Yeah...I think I'll take the ticket.

What? Sputtering.

I'll take the ticket.

You will not take the ticket. You'll listen to the lecture.

I thought you were giving me a choice.

No. I'm not giving you a choice. Now, just listen. 

Sigh. OK.


And I did.


Cheryl: Did they start giving tickets to women? When did that happen?