the trooper and I

The other day I got stopped by an Oregon State Police Trooper.

I was driving legal, but I had one fear.

Now the Trooper was driving a Ford extended cab pickup. Unmarked from front or rear. His flashing lights were inside on the top of the windshield, so there was nothing to know it was a Trooper.

Sneaky those Oregon cops.

I once got stopped (and fined) while driving very fast in a Lincoln I owned. I passed this little 56 Chevy Biscane going along at a bit below the speed limit so I went around and kicked it up to 85, and the little chevy turned out to be a policeman. I paid for that one.

While we were camping a few weeks ago, my friend David said: “Dave, your license is expired on your pickup.” I looked and sure enough the tags were last years. I looked in the glove box and there was the current registration and the place where the sticker tags had been.

I still have not found them.

But that was not what the trooper had in mind. “Started drinking already.” It was about 10 in the morning. “No.”

It seems we had been driving along the columbia river and people were sailing in the water. The wind was good and they were having a good time. Sail boards, a few kite flyers, the whole works. I was looking at those, and not staying exactly in my lane.

And that is why he stopped me. I was not wondering into the other lane, but, he said, I was over the fog line too much.

So I will be more careful, and no, he did not give me even a warning, but he sure could have!