I was on Washington 522 in a fast red car, pushing it a little, yeah, but nothing that would arouse the posse.
V1 beeped and I got wary, moved to the right lane and set the cruise at 55. All the vehicles I had overtaken began streaming by me in the left lane. Ahead, up around a bend, I glimpsed one of Washington’s finest just coming into view on the shoulder, spraying his death-ray at all comers.
I had to laugh as the noses of all the SUVs dipped, their newly-awakened drivers having hammered their brakes. Last I saw, the Trooper’s red-and-blues had come on. Someone was going down.
V1 showed it’s worth that day–the warning time I had to, uh, adjust my behavior was nothing short of luxurious.