Despite the fact that I racked up a fair number of parking tickets in college (my classes were soooooo far), I have not been cited for a moving violation in over 20 years. That is, until last Thursday.
My new job entails more highway driving than I've done in quite a while. Arizona is a big state with lots of lonely roads. I'd had a 32 ounce McDonalds Vanilla Iced Coffee that morning. It was only 3 more miles to the next restroom.
Then I saw one of these:
The speed limit was 55.
I was clocked doing 76.
That was after slowing down because I spotted Mr. Officer's black SUV lurking in the brush up ahead of me.
I guess my 1996 Maxima has some guts after all! I also guess my foot is a little heavier than I thought.
Fortunately my almost-arresting officer (21+ mph over the speed limit can be a criminal offense...who knew!) had mercy on me and my tiny bladder and only kept me on the side of the road for about 45 minutes while checking my ID against state and federal wanted lists, INTERPOL, and Intergalactic Law Enforcement. I drove away (slowly, of course) with a big, fat speeding ticket and a stern warning about the dangers of exceeding the speed limit on AZ Highway 238, AKA "Dead Cow Road".
Huh??!!
Yes, Mobile Road is fondly referred to as Dead Cow Road by the locals because of the large number of bovine fatalities alongside the highway following sparring matches with moving vehicles.
Nice.
Add that to my list of interesting Arizona place names.
1 comment:
Forty-five minutes? Realy? That's crazy!
Bears. Cows. What's next?
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