I was on my 99 CBR900. This would have been at a time in my life where I was not making good decisions. I was living in California and had gone up toward Lake Tahoe on the bike for a few days.
I had screwed around heading back and although it was getting dark I kept off the interstate for the ride home.
I had chosen to ride 88, it was late and dark and I was pushing the CBR hard in the cool night air.
I came out of a tight switchback turn and in full view I see a cop car on the side of the road without a single light on, nearly in the ditch, and a small orange glow on the side of the car in the ditch.
I snap the bike up straight and having no clue what the actual speed limit is, I slow way down.
As I near the cop car I see a cop stepping from the woods at the back of his car. In an instant my mind shifts into hyper drive trying to digest all the information I am processing.
The distant glow has presented itself as a small fire, which he appears disinterested in.
He is staring me down from where he stands at the back of his car. As I pass by he appears to be holding a butcher knife and the lettering emblazoned on the side of the car "Douglas County Sherriff".
I am certain I am at least an hours ride into California and he is a Sherriff from a county in Nevada, with a fire and a butcher knife.
My heart is pounding and I'm weighing my options, I pick up the pace but I am not flat out running. I decide of for any reason I see the cop behind me, that I will run.
About the time I'm reaching this conclusion, I can hear the sirens behind me and see the lights reflecting through the trees.
I take a deep breath and breathe down towards my chest so I don't fog my faceshield, I bang the CBR down twice and drop the hammer.