Nothing is poking a blog post or posts right now. The (P)regressive’s are doing their usual, financial scandals are being swept out of sight, voting irregularities keep coming up, and PDJT recently eviscerated the Emperor on social media. The most I can muster is a yawn.
Some readers like car stories. This may, or may not, be a rerun.
Trinidad and Alamosa offsite sales were usually good for us and I tried to hold them one week to the next.
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Between the two we had three deals fail due to bank declines and I need to get the cars back. In addition, I had one trade in to return, an early (very small) Honda Civic.
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Departing Longmont with my sister in the front seat and my son and his very pregnant girlfriend in the back, we headed for the hills (US 285). A mere 4:26 hours and 251 miles. Nobody was comfy. In Alamosa we delivered the Honda and retrieved both a Spectra and Rio. Sent son and girlfriend back to Longmont in the Spectra and Sisty and I proceeded to Trinidad in the Rio, a mere 2 hour 110 mile jaunt.
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The Trinidad customer was young, and the lender would finance her with a co-signer. At her uncle’s house, he had the Rio blocked in his driveway. Inside he had his internet lawyer forms spread about and was prepared to negotiate.
After telling my sad story, the patrolman indicated he would give me a ticket if the driver up the hill requested.
As Always, YMMV
11 comments:
That's a great story, keep 'em coming.
An old runnin' buddy was a Texas high-troller for a long time. No names, there are likely people left in East Texas who remember him less than fondly, which may be enough to identify him, now that I think about it. Anyway, one Saturday morning we got up, stopped at McDonalds for sausage biscuits and drove down to Houston for one of the huge gun shows they used to have at the Astrohall. This back in the days of 55 MPH speed limits everywhere and my buddy was not known for speeding in the first place so when we met a po-lease car, I pointed at it and said "cop" enthusiastically whereupon my buddy put both feet on the brake. The nose of the car dove down, which was noticed by the po-leaseman who nearly broke his neck looking at his radar and then gave us a hell of a look. My buddy yelled, blank-blank it, WWW, I was only doing 55!
Well, (name redacted), why'd you hit the brakes???? Good times.
Glad you enjoyed it.
I don't see that behavior as often now, thankfully. Yesterday, US 85, I was doing 72 in a 65 on cruise control and the cop was sitting in a crossover. I didn't see the cruiser until it was too late. I was in the right lane and never changed my speed. The cruiser never moved. The officer must have taken pity on an old geezer in a gray Taurus with a handicapped plate.
Great story, and I remember those little 'box' Honda Civics. In Japan we packed four of us in full winter gear in one to drive up to Hachinohe. It was snowing and we rolled it when we slid off the road. We climbed out, pushed it back up on the road and drove on, just missing all the side windows... Yes, it was a tad cold!
My friend's family owned one of those itty-bitty Civics in the mid-70s. It was almost comical how small that car was.
The car was ok but never intended to haul four large Americans over 10,000' mountain passes. It struggled and we suffered.
I am told that quite often they're just sitting there watching their license plate reader waiting for somebody with wants, warrants, expired tags and/or such to drive past and unless you're begging to be made an example of by really excessive speed, you're not of interest to them. Exception for well-known speed trap towns, of course.
w.w.w. That jurisdiction, maybe a nap.
Dunno why, but my earlier comment came up as anonymous... odd that
Glad I didn't delete it.
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