My Ducati accelerates like a rocket sled, and is a fun ride on twisty roads.  I was having fun in the Mill Stream Run Reservation, and got pulled over by a cop.  The way I handled the encounter was unsettling.

I had just added a tachometer to the instrument cluster, and went for a ride to test it out.

The Mill Stream Run is part of the Cleveland Metropark system, and is a twisty road that follows the East branch of the Rocky River.  I was first in line at a red light, and when it turned green, I got up to speed pretty quick.  Not crazy fast, I’m not skilled or brave on a motorcycle.  Also pretty quick, I saw red and blue lights in my mirrors.  I pulled over into one of the picnic area parking lots.

Cop: “Didn’t you see me behind you at the light?  I was two cars back.”

Me: “What’s the problem officer?”

Cop: “You were going 50 mph when I pulled you over.  The speed limit is 35.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Cop:  “I followed you for about a mile.”

Me:  “Okay.  I want to be certain.  I just had my speedometer rebuilt by a shop in Palo Alto.  With motorcycles, they have to make sure the speedometer matches the sprockets.  It’s going to be a pain in the ass if I have to send this back to Palo Alto, and get them to fix it.”

Cop: “Tire inflation can make a difference too.”

Me:  “Can you do me a favor?  Can you pace me for about a mile?  I’ll keep it at a steady 35 mph, and you tell me what speed you get.”

Cop: “Sure.”

We both pulled back on the road.  I drove at a steady 50 mph for about a mile, then pulled over into a parking lot.  The cop followed me.

Cop: “You were going 50 mph the whole time.”

Me:  “Shit.  It’s supposed to be a reputable shop, I hope they aren’t dicks about fixing their mistake.”

Me:  “Thank you very much officer, I appreciate it.”

Then he left.

Afterward, I was thinking that I just told a cop that he could go.  It was like a Jedi mind trick.  The lie came so easily, maybe I am a high-functioning sociopath.

The tachometer did come from a shop in Palo Alto, but I didn’t have to put much thought into switching the tach to the speedometer, and spinning a yarn.  Then I intentionally asked a cop to follow me as I broke the speed limit.

I’m happy that I didn’t get a ticket and the cop was satisfied with the encounter, but I’m not proud of being such a good liar.