Last fall I got pulled over for speeding in Hillsboro and inexplicably did not get a ticket. I mean, that's great, I don't want one, but it always surprises me (not that it happens all the time or anything) how subjective the process is.
To me it's pretty clear. Officer records driver speeding, officer pulls driver over, officer writes ticket.
So why do they sometimes not write a ticket? Or why do they sometimes pull a driver over in a given situation, but then in an identical situation not pull them over? Why is so much left to however the officer feels in a given moment? (I have no answers for these questions, only weak suppositions having to do with how much sleep the officer got the night before or how motivated they may be feeling - kind of like me every day I go to work.)
A few months ago we drove out to the coast for the day. We go to Cannon Beach a lot (that's where I proposed), so that means taking Highway 26 straight west from Portland to Highway 101 and heading south a few miles. Highway 26 is a beautiful drive, twisting through the Coast range, hitting a summit of about 1600 feet, with forests and tiny, tiny towns dotting the route. It crosses back and forth over rivers and streams, mostly on two-lane roads with the occasional passing lanes, and about the only negative is having to see some of the clear-cut forests desperately trying to recover.
And it's a smooth drive. The posted speed limit is 55 and generally people follow it, but often they drop to 50 and sometimes even lower. I pass those people whenever I can, because I'm more likely to be hitting 60-65. I love the drive, but it's still 70 miles to the coast and even at 8am I'm in a hurry to avoid the rush and make sure we get a parking spot, either in town in Cannon Beach or one of the beaches near the town. (On a summer weekend if you don't get there by 10am you will have great, great, great difficulty finding a parking spot anywhere on the coast.)
There is a stretch of road heading west, coming down from the summit, where it widens to four lanes as it twists down the mountains. It passes by the one rest stop on the way (so if you need to go, you can't miss it) and eventually bottoms out near the turn-off to the north to head to Saddle Mountain (a hike we have done once and need to do again, but it's not an easy one). Coming down the mountain the road curves in lazy turns and cars just about always hit 70. I do. Sometimes it's planned because I'm passing someone who inexplicably drives 50 when there is one lane but hits 65 when there are two, but others it's just a product of enjoying the smooth drive and coasting downhill.
Coming out of one these curves, a couple miles east still of the Saddle Mountain turn-off, about half the time a state trooper is sitting there gunning the Portlanders heading to the beach. I've seen him many, many times. I've panicked many, many times, wondering if I'm going to get pulled over. I've driven past him at 72 miles an hour, and not been pulled over.
Saturday I was not lucky. I came out of the curve at 71, saw the police car, and hit the brakes, but of course once you see the car it's too late - your speed has already been recorded. As I passed him, down to about 63 by that time, I saw the lights come on and swore. I pulled over before he barely made it on the road and had my license and insurance card waiting for him. Not a lot you can say, right? Nothing to argue.
The officer was polite, but he did give me a ticket ($190, ouch). He must not have been a dog person, because Misaki gave him her best puppy dog eyes to no avail.
Like I said, I can't complain - I was speeding. What really bugs me is I know there is always an police car in this exact spot, but I wasn't paying close enough attention to anticipate that. (Yes, sure, the other option is just always keep it under 65 - I know.) Not only do I have only myself to blame for speeding, but I have only myself to blame for being stupid and speeding without paying attention to my exact circumstances.
One of these days I'll learn, I suppose.
Good thing I don't have a car that really would be conducive to driving fast, like a BMW or a Porsche. I'd be screwed then.
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
8/23/2011
10/18/2010
So I Got Pulled Over...
Taking my Escape to the dealership for a little maintenance last week I got pulled over for speeding. It was a tad embarrassing, since the motorcycle cop was literally right next to the dealership, so I didn't realize he was pulling me over until I was pulling into the dealership.
Fun times. I pulled into a parking spot with the officer behind me and was able to enjoy the focus of all the car salesmen while waiting for the officer to do his thing.
Not like they had anything better to do, since people don't buy cars anymore, but still.
The officer was very polite. Asked me if I realized I was going 58 in a 45 (honestly, I didn't - 50 maybe, but didn't realize it was that high), accepted my insurance card even though it didn't indicate taking effect until the next day (that's what I get for replacing it early), and then he even did what I didn't expect at all.
He left me go with a warning.
What? Really?
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. I have no desire to write a $200 check for a speeding ticket, but I didn't expect that at all. I've always wondered what makes an officer simply give a warning rather than a ticket. Did I look particularly honest? And why go through the process of pulling me over if he's not going to give a ticket?
Maybe someone else has insight here, because I sure don't.
If I had received a ticket, it wouldn't have been the first one. Twice I've been nailed for speeding with photo radar, I did stupidly run a red light once, and then I got caught speeding (my first ticket) somewhere in central Oregon on the way home a long time ago. None of those were cheap and you just end up feeling like an idiot - it's a complete waste of money.
(Speaking of the photo radar, how stupid do you feel then? Both times I received that picture in the mail with the bill I was smiling clearly. Both times I also knew it was coming and hoped it wouldn't - like the two other times I swear the camera flashed at my car.)
I've been let go before, too. Once near the Rose Garden I was pulled over at night. I literally had no idea why, because I wasn't speeding or anything. Turns out I had forgotten to turn on my lights, but with all the street and surrounding light I didn't even notice. Whoops. Another time I was pulled over in Beaverton for what I thought may be speeding (thought it would have been really ticky-tack), but apparently the officer didn't approve of the crack in the windshield of the old Honda. That officer was not polite. He claimed the crack was in my vision (it was along the lower part of the windshield), but apparently had never driven an Accord - I barely saw it from my seat because of the position of everything. I didn't fix it - ended up buying a new car not too long afterwards so whomever bought the Honda off Craig's List got to deal with it.
Holy crap - I'm beginning to sound like a regular criminal here. How often have you been pulled over?
Every time I see the flashing red and blue - you know, because I see it all the time or something - it reminds me of the first time it happened.
I was a senior in high school and a friend and I both worked as tutors to Japanese exchange students. We also both lived in a rural area outside of Oregon City, so after work we got in my car and took the country roads towards his house. It was after 9pm in the winter, so it was very dark and I was in the habit of pushing the car as much as I could around the curves of the windy roads, just like we did every time after work.
It also happened to be a little bit foggy. Not dangerous foggy, but just foggy enough so things not right next to the road were unclear. It was also enough to know I had a car following me that looked to be somewhat like a Ford Taurus, but that was all I could derive from the rear view mirror.
This car would not get off my ass. I pushed mine a little harder, drove through a small town, slowing down as necessary, then cranked it back up as the road straightened out.
And then the lights came on.
As I pulled over I was freaked out. If I got a ticket my parents would kill me, and I was hoping all the required info was in the glove compartment. Then I told the cop the car wasn't mine, which got his attention until I explained it belonged to Mom and Dad. (Speaking of Mom and Dad, I don't think they've ever heard this story... Surprise!) After freaking us both out a bit with the prospect of a ticket, the officer let me off with a warning. I was so relieved I didn't know what to do. And then, after I pulled back onto the road so did the cop, following me some more before eventually turning off.
Then - of course, the part of me that wasn't sweating and didn't have shaking hands - was pissed, because this cop had followed me so closely for roughly eight miles before pulling me over. In fact, part of the reason I had hit the gas so much was because this car was following so close. Sure, I was speeding, but I also felt like I was induced a little bit.
Then again, at 17 you always think you are right (well, because you are), so perhaps my recollection is a little skewed in that direction.
Perhaps the most important question now is will I drive slower? Um...maybe. I'll try and be a little more aware of my surroundings.
How about you, dear reader? How many tickets have you gotten? And what was the first time like?
Fun times. I pulled into a parking spot with the officer behind me and was able to enjoy the focus of all the car salesmen while waiting for the officer to do his thing.
Not like they had anything better to do, since people don't buy cars anymore, but still.
The officer was very polite. Asked me if I realized I was going 58 in a 45 (honestly, I didn't - 50 maybe, but didn't realize it was that high), accepted my insurance card even though it didn't indicate taking effect until the next day (that's what I get for replacing it early), and then he even did what I didn't expect at all.
He left me go with a warning.
What? Really?
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. I have no desire to write a $200 check for a speeding ticket, but I didn't expect that at all. I've always wondered what makes an officer simply give a warning rather than a ticket. Did I look particularly honest? And why go through the process of pulling me over if he's not going to give a ticket?
Maybe someone else has insight here, because I sure don't.
If I had received a ticket, it wouldn't have been the first one. Twice I've been nailed for speeding with photo radar, I did stupidly run a red light once, and then I got caught speeding (my first ticket) somewhere in central Oregon on the way home a long time ago. None of those were cheap and you just end up feeling like an idiot - it's a complete waste of money.
(Speaking of the photo radar, how stupid do you feel then? Both times I received that picture in the mail with the bill I was smiling clearly. Both times I also knew it was coming and hoped it wouldn't - like the two other times I swear the camera flashed at my car.)
I've been let go before, too. Once near the Rose Garden I was pulled over at night. I literally had no idea why, because I wasn't speeding or anything. Turns out I had forgotten to turn on my lights, but with all the street and surrounding light I didn't even notice. Whoops. Another time I was pulled over in Beaverton for what I thought may be speeding (thought it would have been really ticky-tack), but apparently the officer didn't approve of the crack in the windshield of the old Honda. That officer was not polite. He claimed the crack was in my vision (it was along the lower part of the windshield), but apparently had never driven an Accord - I barely saw it from my seat because of the position of everything. I didn't fix it - ended up buying a new car not too long afterwards so whomever bought the Honda off Craig's List got to deal with it.
Holy crap - I'm beginning to sound like a regular criminal here. How often have you been pulled over?
Every time I see the flashing red and blue - you know, because I see it all the time or something - it reminds me of the first time it happened.
I was a senior in high school and a friend and I both worked as tutors to Japanese exchange students. We also both lived in a rural area outside of Oregon City, so after work we got in my car and took the country roads towards his house. It was after 9pm in the winter, so it was very dark and I was in the habit of pushing the car as much as I could around the curves of the windy roads, just like we did every time after work.
It also happened to be a little bit foggy. Not dangerous foggy, but just foggy enough so things not right next to the road were unclear. It was also enough to know I had a car following me that looked to be somewhat like a Ford Taurus, but that was all I could derive from the rear view mirror.
This car would not get off my ass. I pushed mine a little harder, drove through a small town, slowing down as necessary, then cranked it back up as the road straightened out.
And then the lights came on.
As I pulled over I was freaked out. If I got a ticket my parents would kill me, and I was hoping all the required info was in the glove compartment. Then I told the cop the car wasn't mine, which got his attention until I explained it belonged to Mom and Dad. (Speaking of Mom and Dad, I don't think they've ever heard this story... Surprise!) After freaking us both out a bit with the prospect of a ticket, the officer let me off with a warning. I was so relieved I didn't know what to do. And then, after I pulled back onto the road so did the cop, following me some more before eventually turning off.
Then - of course, the part of me that wasn't sweating and didn't have shaking hands - was pissed, because this cop had followed me so closely for roughly eight miles before pulling me over. In fact, part of the reason I had hit the gas so much was because this car was following so close. Sure, I was speeding, but I also felt like I was induced a little bit.
Then again, at 17 you always think you are right (well, because you are), so perhaps my recollection is a little skewed in that direction.
Perhaps the most important question now is will I drive slower? Um...maybe. I'll try and be a little more aware of my surroundings.
How about you, dear reader? How many tickets have you gotten? And what was the first time like?
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