The day after Christmas, 1997. It was a balmy 60 degrees in VA and I decided to go show my Dad my latest toy: a brand new, bright red VFR750F with Two Brothers full exhaust.
I had been at my folks house for some time and the sun was starting to set. It was well before I knew about quality MC clothing, so I wanted to head for home before it got cold.
It was dusk when I hopped on the 55 mph rural 2-lane for the 40 miles to the house. I come up on a guy in a beat up F-150 with huge Harley wings in the back glass. He's rolling about 40 mph with no one in front of him. As I approach to do a legal pass in a passing zone, he really starts eyeballing his mirrors. I signal to overtake on the left and he starts coming over in my lane, so I back off and fall in behind him. I can see his head bobbing up in down in delight from effing with me.
I try again with the same response from the F-150 driver. At this point, the passing lane is gone. A short piece down the road, there is another passing zone and I downshift 2 gears and zoom past him. At this point he goes from his normal 40 mph to tailgating me @ 70. No problem. I twist the grip until I can no longer see his headlights. It is now dark. I'm at least 2 miles ahead of him, so I drop down to 60 mph.
I'm enjoying the ride home at this point and have been looking all around at my surroundings. I didn't notice the headlights on my ass until they were RIGHT ON ME! Again, I just gave the throttle a quick twist, and I was GONE! Stupid fecker.
The headlights were very tiny now. As I was studying the tiny lights in my mirrors, I noticed a tiny blue light on top of them. What? Really? Oh, COME ON!!!!
I was approaching a small town where the speed limit dropped to 35. There was a little pull off before the town, and that's where I pulled over. When the cop pulled up behind me I already had my helmet off and my papers on the seat.
He had his flashlight out and was studying the bike. "What size is this?" I told him a 750, but it's slow for a 750 because I had a ZX-6R at the house that could absolutely smoke it. He said "well, I think it's pretty fast because I clocked you at 120 in that last turn!" My response? Shoot, I was doing 145 on the straight!
The cop was asking why I ran. I told him I thought he was the asshole in the truck. At that very time, said asshole drove by and I pointed. See? The cop said "Yep. I have a Honda. I know all about it."
I asked him how he got on my ass so fast. He said he heard me way before he saw me, so he thought his radar was malfunctioning because he clocked me at 60 mph. He then proceeded to pace me for a mile. So then I asked, so you followed me for a whole mile with no headlights? How legal is that? Was I speeding when you got behind me? No. Did I pull over when I saw your blue lights? Yes. Okay, how exactly did I run, then?
Ultimately, the cop was cool, and let me go. So I basically got a warning for doing 120 on radar and 145 by my own admission.
The last thing the cop said?