They'll Never Take Me Alive

The only time I (know of anyone who) did it, was way back in the early eighties. Was heading back to town through the Indian reservation. But it was known that the cops in town and the res, cops did not get along. So it was just a matter of getting into town before they caught up to the bike. (at the time, the res. cops just would not chase folks over the reservation boarder)

I would not advise it now, though...

I ran from a cop when I was 14 years old. I was on a '79 RM100 riding on the street in the neighborhood. No helmet, gloves, boots... just jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt. When he turned on his lights and siren I downshifted and left him in a cloud of smoke. Chase went on for 4 miles or so when I mistakenly took a turn into a cul de sac (instead of a through street) where an off duty police officer was playing frisbee w/ his kids in the front yard. He threw the frisbee at me and I lowsided right in front of him. He put me in a head lock and waited for the cop to catch up. They cuffed me and put me in the back of the car.

I probably should have died that day...

You Know I have ran many times,(never caught) in town for the most part, this last saturday I was rounding a long blind sweeper (trees blocked the view).

as I was coming in from a long straight doing 110 mph I slowed her down to around 70, then pops the hiway patrolman, no warning at all, looked at the

speedo and seen 67mph, I went....whew glad I had slowed down, some of the roads are 65 mph some 55 mph, this one was 55,

I thought we would get a warning, so I slowed down, I was in the lead and my mate slowed with me, thare he came lights and siren screaming, he

quickly exits, nervously asks for DL +ins. I calmly have them out and hand to him, he says going a little fast eh?... I said "when I seen you I

looked at my speedo and seen 67 mph", he replies nope, you were in excess of 80,, er.... ok. my reply, he gave us both tickets, 221.50 for

70 in a 55, says to tell our friends that speed kills. Never have felt so violated, I had it coming, have not had a ticket in 15 years, rarely go the limit.

been obsessing over this since it happened, next time they will have to chase me down,, I will be as the wind and a puff of smoke..... GONNAGE!

In '86 in college I had a Nighthawk 650 (first bike). Coming back from a drill weekend in the guard, driving down a twisty road by the lake these two guys pass me on an RZ350 and RZ500, hauling. I'm like "cool, I'll jump in and follow along". But they are flying looking almost frantic. Didn't feel right. So I check the review I see a cop flying around the corners with the backend getting loose trying to keep up. Have to say he was doing a good job driving. Really had the cop car sliding around pretty smooth. But no match for the bikes. They we're leaving him behind. When they went left I went right. Didn't want any part of that. Those RZ's sounded like 500lb mosquitos. Pretty cool. It's the closest I ever came to being involved in a police chase:)

Can't say I never entertained the idea. You may get away a few times, 20 times, 50 times, but none of it will be worth it the one time you get caught. The penalties stretch beyond money.

Not bike related but here goes.

The other year we were on holiday in Florida. It wasnt going well. Heavy rains every day. We all had colds from the plane journey. My kids were 1 and 3 at the time so not coping with the time difference well. To cap it all we had the mother in law along .

Now, I can get on with most people. I am even quite popular amongst those that have never met me. But I cannot spend a lot of time with my mother in law without planning her murder

And I think the feeling is mutual. Neither of us says anything and the relationship is strained - cordial. On some occasions, when I am required to lift or fix something she thaws to the point of quite fond. Like you can be quite fond of an unruly dog that is a nuisance most of the time but occaisionally fetches your slippers. The rest of the time I get the withering old biddy look that says;

'My daughter could have done so much better, he is a waste of a university education, I hope those children arent influenced by him, why doesnt he just leave so I can set the child support agency on him, I am rewriting my will you know - it is all going to the Cat's home'.

You know the one, anyway she was along for the laughs...er no, I had fell for that old lie about; 'If we bring my mother she can have the kids so we can get out a couple of evenings'..............Yeah, right!

The villa we had hired was on one of those gated complexes. We had a pass that we were supposed to show to the security guard to permit out access. First day, we arrive, no security guard. We go in and out several times, no security guard. By about day 8 we were not bothering to take the pass with us, never a security guard day or night.

This particular evening we had had a fraught meal down town. The children were overtired and ready to get upset at the slightest provocation. I was, by now cordially ignoring both the mother in law and the mrs.

Anyway, when we got back to the complex our access is blocked by a road cone and this little fat security guard (imagine a cross between Danny Devito and Boss Hog) wants our pass before he will let us in. The pass we have left in the villa.

They say opposites attract and whilst I am the most impatient man you are ever likely to meet my mrs could be a diplomat. Even she cannot get Boss Devito to understand that we need to go to the villa to get the pass to bring it back to show him. Furthermore he is adamant that there is security on the site every day / night and we could not have got to our villa to leave the pass inside. By now the children are having a screaming competition and one glance at the old crone showed that she was not enjoying herself either.

I am afraid I may have damaged anglo american relations somewhat when I shouted 'Oi fat c*nt, get out of the way'. But sticking the car in gear and flooring it through, taking his road cone with me damaged relations inside the car much more.

The Kids continued to scream, The Angel of Death said nothing but found an even more withering, loathing stare and her mouth puckered up like a cat's arse. My mrs was loudly voicing her objection to my actions - she would have been useless in Thelma and Louise. Anyway, the Grand Canyon was miles away and our swimming pool was only 5 foot deep.

So when we got back to the villa she made me take the pass and the quite scuffed road cone back to Boss Devito. I think she imagined that scene in the Blues Brothers when there are about a million cops outside all pointing guns at you. Anyway, as I drove back the little fat idiot was on his radio calling somebody. When he saw me, He got back on the radio and said, deadly serious; 'The felon has returned'. Which just cracked me up.

Anyway, I showed him the pass and gave him his road cone and said I was sorry I had lost my temper. That was the end of it. So I never got to spend anytime in the pen, never got to work on the chain gang or organise a football team to beat the guards. I just had to do another week with the Adams family