At the time, I was working about 20 miles of twisty highway from home. Every morning there's always someone going about 10mph slower than the speed limit, and I always pass them on a certain straightaway. Sometimes it's just one car, sometimes it's 10. This morning, there were about 15 of them, and they were all stuck behind one person who was going 15 to 20mph slower than the posted speed limit (55mph). I wait a second to see if anyone is going to pass. No one does, so I look over my shoulder, flip my blinker on, drop a gear, and rip by all these cars. I was already about 15 minutes late to work, but I do know that what I was doing was stupid. Anyways, I get past all of the cars and keep cruising around 80mph. I look behind me and see a truck not far behind that definitely wasn't in the front of the line when I passed him. He's gaining on me, so I speed it up a little bit. It's like this for about 2 miles before I realize. Cherries and berries, baby. I pull over, take my keys out, hold them off to the side of my bike so he can see them, and drop 'em. The officer strolls on up to me and asks me if I know why I'm being pulled over. I asked him if it was because he wanted a race, risky joke, I know, and I surprisingly got a laugh out of him. He asked if I was just out for a ride, so I told him I was running a bit late for work. He nodded, took my license and registration, and headed back to his truck. I'm shitting bricks at this point. He was a state trooper. These guys are notorious for giving fat tickets. I had just recently got this bike, and I was so worried that I was going to either get a ticket so large I'd have to sell my bike to afford, receive jail time, get my bike impounded, or my insurance would go up so high that I wouldn't be able to keep the bike. The longest, most anxious 5 minutes of my life pass, and the officer's door opens. You know those western movie scenes where a cowboy opens the doors to a saloon and everybody gasps and looks at him? That's what my insides felt like. I swear to god, this man could've been wearing snake skin boots with spurs on the back and I would've thought 'yeah, what else would this man be wearing'. So he steps out of the truck with only my license and registration in hand. The wave of relief was better than any drug. He told me that I should slow it down because I will either get a ticket or die. He gave me a little bit of a lecture and let me go. He told me that he's got an 07 GSXR 1000 and that he understands how it us. Gave me his business card, tipped his hat, and got back in his truck.My boss was still pissed that I was late, though. via /r/motorcycles https://www.reddit.com/r/motorcycles/comments/chvgs8/if_were_telling_stories_about_cool_cops_ive_got/?utm_source=ifttt
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