When I left Augusta, Maine at 630AM it was a 52 degrees with a wet, light fog. Straight through Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts and New York I drove without stopping. About 200 miles. With the driver assist (speed, lane and distance from the car ahead) engaged, I listen to podcasts and nurse a large Dunkin coffee.
Just over the Pennsylvania border with New York I stopped in the Poconos Mountains. Well, if you live in the Western States you know there really not “mountains.” I had not been paying attention to outside temperature so when I got out of my car I was surprised by the 92 degree humid Pennsylvania weather. Forty degrees was an unexpected and drastic change.
I got Fuel, coffee and a sinker. If you don’t know what a “sinker” is – too bad for you. Back onto the Pennsylvania Highway and I set the driver assist to 76MPH. The speed limit is 70MPH. I set the “car ahead” to six car lengths.
After about an hour, I was travelling the two-lane highway on a steep downgrade. I was in the number one lane when my car detected I was within six car lengths from the car ahead. The car began to slow itself. As I felt the slight weight shift forward, I saw a Pennsylvania State Trooper in the median, pointing his radar gun right at me. I flip off the driver assist and the car began to slow a little more rapidly. By the time I am 100 yards past him I am going to the speed limit.
The fastest he pinged me would have been 76, but more likely 75. I figure that’s not ticket worthy, But I watch the rear view mirror. Damn, I see him pull into traffic and he is obviously accelerating rapidly. He is coming on fast, right behind me. Hoping against hope, I pull into the number two lane to let him go by. He slows and gets right into my right rear quarter panel. Okay, I am prey.
Fortunately, I planned for just such a scenario. I knew I wasn’t going to crazy speed on the trip. However, I also planned on roughly always 8% over the speed limit. On a day like today, a nine-hour drive, that 8% is at least 30 minutes. And, I figure at 8% over the limit I was at best a “Wobbler.” Its not 90MPH, a clear speeder. Maybe you cite, maybe you warn, that’s a wobbler.
The cruise control is my first line of defense. It is set and compensates for downhill/uphill, etc. It keeps me in the wobbler zone. My second line of defense is my license plate frame.
My license plate frame says “Veteran” “United States Coast Guard.” That’s true, I am a veteran of the USCG. I was hoping that the license plate frame would be my thumb on the scales of justice. Flipping the wobbler my way; no cite.
After 30 seconds in my rear quarter panel he zooms off. I don’t know if it worked or not. I think so.
Tomorrow is a little longer drive to Terre Haute, Indiana.
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