So you're cruising along some country road, maybe even on your way to a trail head, and enjoying the drive. The road is windy, the scenery breathtaking and generally peaceful. Traffic is light and so is the population. Maybe a little road trip music is blasting, or maybe you've just got the windows down and you're breathing deep the clean air.
You take the turns clean at 55 MPH and make good time zipping along. You take the reduced speed curve noted as 45 MPH at 46 and as you come around the corner you spot three houses, a lonely looking gas station and a feed store. But this little hamlet is just another blip on your radar and you glide back up to speed as you cruise by.
A minute or two later you are yanked from your blissful drive as you note the cherries popping in your side mirror. You know what happened, you've seen it before. That blip on your radar wasn't the only radar blipping away today. So you ease down and slide to the shoulder. You pull out the insurance and reach for yer driver's license. Hoping to find a little sympathy and a warning from the uniformed fella approaching the car; you find only mirrored Ray Ban's reflecting your own pleading eyes.
Heads shake as some hidden sign in the aforementioned hamlet indicated that 35 and not 55 is the posted limit when you are "Downtown". Now luckily for you the curve slowed you down and the radar only clocked you doing 48 as you cleared the turn coming into town. Otherwise of course you'd have hit 20 over and we'd be taking a trip to the county courthouse for reckless driving. But thankfully, says the kind officer, you're just looking at a speeding ticket.
Now you'd like to bitch, maybe even add assaulting an officer to the not so friendly list of tickets, but we all know where that goes. So you nod yer head, surrender your license and take your scolding with a slight frown. The disingenuous but obligatory, "Just doing my job, have a safe day." closes the encounter.
Nobody minds much being caught fair and square, but something about a speed trap always leaves us feeling a bit cheated. We all know the law, abide when we can, but the speed traps tend to leave us a bit sour to say the least. It's a low blow, dishonorable law keeping really. While we like to think we pay this fella's salary, well sometimes this fella sees fit to pay it himself. Drum up a little revenue for the home team outta those "from away" who are passing though.
Likely as not, we won't hear all the facts. Or it may be some time before we hear any of them as the justice system generally moves with the speed of a country mule. And perhaps the fella in question has indeed been forced to consult a fancy city attorney to sort out the charges as he's found himself way over his head after a long drive.
There is a simple fact that is picture perfect, a fella did break the rules. And at least one of the tickets issued is perfectly valid. Nod yer head and take it with a slight frown.
Although this speed trap does leave us a bit sour now doesn't it.
Seems that some communication was had before that last bend in the road. That permits were issued; although the warnings and rules that accompanied them were spelled out clear as vermud. In fact it appears that the local constable could have easily handed down a stern warning before things escalated. That every opportunity to avoid disaster likely existed for both parties involved. In the good citizen travelling by and behind the mirrored Ray Ban's an eager anticipation was present in both sets of eyes.
A clean setup and eagerly anticipated outcome has given a fine opportunity for the sleepy hamlet to spread it's message to the country at large. Not that the message isn't needed, or in hindsight we couldn't guess the speed trap was coming. But still. A low blow, some dirty law keeping to say the least.
But all you can do is shake your head, frown a bit, and move on.
Now as it turns out, we do care what that little hamlet has to say. And just around their bend does sit a little spot that we like to visit. Need to visit really. So set the poorly executed delivery aside and take the message at face value. Excuse the poor manners and dirty tricks of this desperate little place. The rules are the rules, the law is the law. Even if they are playing a bit dirty, they are just doing their job.
Deep down they don't want to see the road closed just to ensure we all have a "safe" day.
Now the problem with a speed trap, what leaves us feeling cheated by it; it really didn't have much to do with the actual speeder at all. No real desire to do wrong occurred, no real crime to be fought. Simply a technicality easily walked into by any of us. Doubly so when it was laid out kindly for us to step in and tucked around a bend. No vicious blood thirsty maniac racing through town looking to run down the local kids; just a fella rolling by at the generally posted 55 enjoying the drive to the trailhead. With the windows down, taking in the scenery, breathing in the clean air.
On paper, a speed trap follows the letter of the law. In real life, all we can do is shake our heads. Frown a bit at the trap, but pay more attention to the town in which it occurred, especially since we've got a dear auntie in that town who likes cats and we'd all like to take at least one trip up with the kids to visit her.
Deep down, we all know the speed trap doesn't have anything to do with speeding.
So fer the speeder in question, let him take the ticket and move on.