Back when I was living with my Dad up in Redmond, WA, we tried to get out on the road at least once a year. We were on the longest stretch of the three-week trip, from Cheyenne, Wyoming, to Elko, NV, a 675-mile westward run on I80, when I came on a Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4 in 1000-watt red. I was driving a “Mafia Staff Car” black Cadillac DTS. We enjoyed a run of about 225 undisturbed miles at a sustained (redacted) mph with bursts up to about (way redacted). We passed each other several times and I noticed that he had an Escort on his windshield. He didn’t know I had a V1 since I was using the Concealed Display. We were about five miles from Elko when I got a massive Ka hit on V1, dead ahead. At this point the Mitsu was about two lengths in front in the left lane. I looked down to see the speedometer reading of (I’m taking the fifth) when my foot mashed the brakes. Dad was napping and the sudden deceleration startled him awake.
When I saw the NV Trooper pull out from behind a grove of trees on the right, I knew I was doomed. I was still doing about 85 when I went past him, but I noticed that the Mitsu was nowhere to be seen. I thought maybe he had magically found a way off the highway. The trooper lined up right behind me in full “code 3” pursuit. After several expletives, I began to pull off to the shoulder when the trooper came up alongside and in a very animated way mouthed the words “SLOW THE F*#$ DOWN!!!” I nodded vigorously and waved as he accelerated westward.
A few minutes later we exited to downtown Elko and parked in front of the hotel while we checked in; took about ten minutes. As we walked back out the Mitsu was just pulling in. The driver immediately recognized my car. “How did you know?” he yelled. I motioned him over and pointed to my V1 at the top of the windshield.
He said, “I didn’t even know you had a radar detector. That’s why I pulled in front of you to begin with!” I asked him how bad was the damage.
“He clocked me at 115 but wrote me for 95 so that he wouldn’t have to take me to jail. The fine was $450.00.”
The best part of this story is that my dad always believed that countermeasures were “snake oil in a box”. But after that experience he never said another disparaging word about my V1. In fact, he proceeded to tell all his buddies down at the senior center how smart his kid was to have this magical black box that save his keister from a huge ticket.
Dad passed away in September of last year. Writing this story has made me think about him and laugh. What a great trip we had.
North Hollyweod, CA