In My Defense

A Case for Leniency in Two Acts
Since I declined my chance to appear in court, I feel compelled to present my case here. Sorry, it's long, but it was cathartic.

Act One
A couple of weeks ago I was driving home, having dropped Ethan at school. I am generally not in too much of a hurry on the way home. If I speed, I do it on the way to school, though I've attempted to curb that, reasoning that Ethan being late is better than a car wreck or a speeding ticket.

On this day, however, I'd left Elliot home asleep with Matt, who needed to be to work shortly, therefore, I was feeling rushed, though not compelled to risk life or limb. As I began my ascent up the narrow mountain road, I encountered a vehicle traveling consistently 5 - 10 mph below the posted speed limit. I settled in for a long drive. Then I noticed the vehicle behind me, plastered to my bumper. Just where exactly, did she want me to go?

So, I backed off some more, reluctant to be a sandwich, and we all continued up the mountain; Slow-Joe, minivan-me and Impatience McSpeedy Pants.

We came to a "slow vehicle turn-out" and I hoped that Slow-Joe would pullover and let us all free. No luck. I considered pulling out and letting Speedy zoom up on Joe's bumper for a change, but then I noticed the three or four other vehicles unfortunate enough to be caught behind us in the caravan. As I didn't feel like either having my bumper clipped by Speedy as I tried to turn out, nor waiting there for the entire caravan to pass, I continued up the mountain.

Next we came to the first of two or three very brief passing zones. Do I try and pass? Do I risk my bumper and search for a place to pull over? Do I hunker down and hope Speedy tries to pass us both in the 30 odd yards of passing zone? Point moot, oncoming traffic in passing lane.

Tired of Impatience trying repeatedly to make me into a hood ornament, I was ready for the next passing zone. It is precisely 2.5 tenths of a mile, bordered at both ends by a blind curve. I rounded the curve, saw the left lane was clear of traffic, signaled, made sure Speedy was not attempting a similar maneuver and moved into the left lane.

At this moment two or three things happened all at once. First, Impatience McSpeedy Pants zoomed in to fill in the air pocket I'd vacated. Secondly, a vehicle appeared around the bend at the far end of the left lane and third (I solemnly believe this, though cannot verify it) Joe, given a sudden straight-away, sped up.

My options were really but one. I could not abort the pass as my spot was taken. I could not take my time to complete the pass as there was a vehicle approaching me head-on. So, I sped up, cleared Slow-Joe, signalled, and moved back into the right lane. Had I not done so, I'm convinced I would have at a best, not completed the pass within the passing zone, and at worst, have hit the oncoming vehicle head on.

It was at this moment I got a clearer view of the vehicle, now passing me, in the left lane. It happened to be a state trooper. Oh, and he was pulling over and turning around. My heart began racing, had I completed the pass within the tiny passing zone? I think so. I checked my speed. I was going about 5 below the speed limit myself at this point, so I sped up. Slow Joe and Impatience and their entourage were some distance behind me and the officer was bringing up the rear of the caravan.

Then I saw lights. The officer carefully passed each of the 4 or 5 vehicles, then came up behind me, now some distance ahead of the pack, but going the speed limit. Could he possibly want to pull me over? Yes, he could.

I pulled off the road.

Yes, Officer?

Do you know why I pulled you over?

Um, no.

Well, I clocked you at 70 mph while passing that vehicle.

I did not realize I was going that fast (I was busy trying to avoid a head-on collision--next time I'll be sure to check my speedometer before I save my life and yours).

I tried to explain the situation I was in and he suggested I should have waited for Speedy to pass us all and he would have pulled her over. He also admitted two other things. First of all, that he doesn't pull people over unless they're going 15 over the speed limit, so had I topped my pass off at 69 instead of 70, he would not have pulled me over (I asked him this directly--like I said, next time I'll check my speedometer whilst avoiding death) and secondly, that the passing zone was not in a good place. (Thank you Captain Obvious, but I hate to mention the fact that there IS a legal passing zone there unfortunately and so if it is impossible to execute a pass legally in that passing zone, why am I getting the citation?)

He kindly wrote me up for 64 (just 9 over the limit instead of 15, assuring me that it therefore wouldn't affect my insurance rates), and handed me a ticket for $15, oh and $126 in court fees. Yes, you read correctly: nine miles over the speed limit equals $136 in Transylvania County (One, One morrre expensive teecket, ha, ha, ha, ha!).

I returned home rather riled up as you can imagine. I called the courthouse to ask if I just paid it if I'd still be charged the ubiquitous Court Fees. (Yes, of course). And if I went to court, wasting everyone's time, and somehow got the ticket overturned, would I still be charged the court fees? (No, because only at that point would I have involved the court--makes perfect sense to me.) I was determined therefore to fight the ticket. I felt I had a pretty good case to make and it'd be a good exercise at least.

Act Two
Time passes, as does anger. Still a bit riled about the whole thing, I'd gained some perspective over the next few weeks. I'd come to realize a few things. First, though my insurance company would not assure me that my rates would not go up as a result, I felt confident that this minor infraction would probably be overlooked and anyway, it probably wouldn't hit the books before my renewal in a few short weeks. So, I'd have at least a year grace. Secondly, my husband was going to be out of town on the assigned court date, so I would have to arrange a babysitter for Elliot, and someone to pick up Ethan from the bus stop on a Friday afternoon.

Lastly, I did some math. Assuming it didn't affect my rates, I could go and spend 3-5 hours dealing with this in the lovely confines of a county court house with a slight chance of coming back with my $136. But, more than likely, I would end up spending 3-5 hours and $136 and paying a babysitter and enduring a great deal of stress and frustration. By my calculations, it would take me about 6 hours of work to pay the fine, time which I could put in at my leisure, and I could spend that afternoon relatively stress free, playing with my children.

Denumoux
Elliot and I went and paid $136 to Transylvania County earlier this week (Ha-ha-ha-ha!). We got to walk through the metal detectors behind some prisoners and their escorts. He got to check out the paddy-wagon and police cars in the parking lot and I got a reassurance of the fact that I did not indeed want to spend an afternoon there. Though it still galls me to no end that I paid it with no argument. I suppose that's what they bank on (ha-ha-ha-ha!). And, I suppose, if I consider all the times I've driven like a banshee to school, racing the tardy bell without getting a ticket, $136 is pocket change. I'll keep telling myself that.

So, if you find yourself driving behind a slow moving vehicle up a narrow, winding mountain road, cursing Slow-Jane and Tammy McTailgater under your breath, remember minivan-me and think twice before passing.