On the September 11 just passed, I turned 62. The wife says, “Honey, I have a great idea; let’s drive down to Haubstadt for dinner.” You do not have to push me to do that, so out comes my BMW M3 CS for a nice drive through the southern Indiana countryside.
A quick history: I like to drive fast. But I am very aware of the hazards and I do not endanger myself or anyone else.
The scene: Friday night, after a dinner with one beer, coffee, and sitting around for 40 minutes just talking, I would be around .004 BAC. We start home. One thing that’s fun with my little German wonder car is to drive right on the speed limit and watch what happens. My V1 is an essential part of the fun.
So here we are on highway 67 just north of Westphalia and here comes mister Indiana State Trooper in his brand new, tax-money-sponsored Ford Mustang GT undercover money maker. No big deal. I am right on 55 mph and V1 had told me that there was some activity in the area. Heck, it’s Friday night, harvesting time in the field of traffic enforcement.
So he sets up a quarter-mile back for the good old initial speed check. Then he zooms up to do a plate check, but what happens next bothers me and it should bother the Indiana State Patrol also. This guy gets right on my bumper at 55 mph and stays there for a good distance, then backs off, punches it and passes me in a NO PASSING ZONE!!!!!!
Ok, we pay these guys good money to keep us safe, not to try goading some 62 year old guy to race!
Man, I love my V1.