Excessive speed for the freeway

Since I started my new job in Palo Alto, I’ve been riding back, rather than by 280 or the hated 101, by Page Mill Road up to Skyline. It’s a great, fun ride. Page Mill is challengingly twisty and not a very smooth road so I have to be a little cautious. Skyline is smooth and even and about as nice as a two-lane road can be for a fast, relaxed pace. Well, right about the time I got to Skyline, I found that my shifter no longer worked. I pulled over and sure enough, another linkage nut had vibrated off. I’m pretty sure that the last time I replaced this one I used a locknut, so next time I’ll try graduating to nylocks.

I have a lot of range with my motor, so I just left the darn thing in third until I could stop at at store. Starting in third from a stop takes a bit of finesse with the clutch, but it’s doable. The rev limiter kicks in at about 110mph in third, so it’s a workable gear sans shifter. A ziptie provided a temporary fix, so off I went. It was already dark at that point, so I just took 280 the rest of the way.

Well, 280 is wide and smooth, especially right there north of Edgewood Road where I think it’s five lanes in either direction and beautiful views. I was just thinking to myself how strange it was to be going 105mph and not even be overtaking other traffic when I noticed the red and blue flashing lights in my mirrors.

Ehhh, yeah. So I got pulled over while I was exceeding the speed limit by a good 40mph. I figured, «Hey, 35 years old, 18 years on the road—I guess it’s about time for my first moving violation.»

Interestingly enough, the officer who pulled me over seemed to mostly want to talk about my bike. He liked the Moto Guzzi. He has a Harley, but from the sound of it his wife pressured him to get the Harley and he liked his old Shadow better. We had a real nice chat and he reminded me that there’s a special section of the traffic code for violators over 100mph, including automatic 30-day suspension of license and a $1300 fine.

«I only hand those out to people who give me a hard time,» he said, «not nice guys like you.» He reminded me how unsafe it was to be riding fast near dusk due to the risk of deer strike, handed me my license, and sent me on my way without a ticket.

I’m avoiding using any phrases like «dodged a bullet» because, well, it was nothing that I did. I didn’t «talk my way out» of a ticket. I just treated the guy with honesty and respect. I didn’t deny that I was going fast (although I avoided mentioning any specific number when he asked me) and I didn’t try to weasel out in any way. But yeah, I’m pretty lucky.