You always hope this happens, but it never does. But every now and then JUSTICE PREVAILS!
So, we’re driving north on 371 just out of Baxter. Amanda, who is an excellent driver, is at the wheel. Moderate traffic, overcast but no precipitation, just before nightfall.
Suddenly, from the corner of our eyes we see a black pickup truck with two young men in it accelerated down slope from a shadowy parking lot, speeding down the steeply sloped drive. The pickup swerved onto the road directly into our path. Amanda, skillfully, swerved and braked, averting a collision with the pickup and avoiding getting slammed by oncoming or co-vectoring traffic.
The pickup swerved a few more times, accelerated, passed a few cars and drove out of sight. My comment: “Jeesh Amanda, I’d be on my horn for the next five minutes! You know, the horn. That thing in the middle of the steering wheel.”
(Note: Minnesotans don’t use the horn. Ever.)
“Well,” she replied, probably correctly, “They’ve probably got a shot gun, and we don’t.”
Well, we continued north on 371 and about twenty minutes later, heading out of the sleepy town of Pequot Lakes (where there is almost always a speed trap on weekend evenings) we could see a patrol car, bubble gums flashing, with someone pulled over.
As we got closer we could see that it was a black pickup. Closer still, we could see that it was our good ol’ boys.
“Ha!” I said, about a hundred times. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” I shouted out the window as we drove by. “Gotcha!”
Don’t mess with the man in Pequot Lakes.