Same day as I got my sexy new V1, I hit the nastiest ambush ever.
V1 said 3 Ka’s ahead. HUH? Really? Back off, changed lanes to right. Cleared the rise. Bingo! Two cruisers in the median. Motors running. In gear. Brake lights go dark. They’re rolling. Both chase down their victims right before my eyes. Now I know how wildebeest feel migrating past lions.
The pack around me upped the pace. I guess they figured all units were busy behind, writing out money orders.
Funny, but V1 was still talking; “Ka ahead.”
As I cleared the next rise, here’s the scene: One cruiser in the median, microphone in hand, and the entire pack that had just barreled past me “brake dancing” all over to keep from bunting the front guy who was trying to slow way down, never mind that he was already toast. And SIX cruisers parked on the right shoulder, and SIX authority figures standing alongside, motioning drivers into the massacre.
V1 is a religion, and I’m a believer.