I am going to stop traveling to the small city down the mountain at night. Yes, it is the quickest way to get to a grocery store of any size, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Taco Bell, Krystal, pizza, the Post Office, the drive-in theater, a drug store, and a library. Yes, it is my county’s seat. Yes, I do have to go there to take care of official business like car registrations, but only during the day.
Why am I going to stop traveling there at night?
One reason is that two of the last three times I was driving, I was stopped by the police. No, I was not pulled over by the police. I was stopped by the police.
They had a block set up, similar to a sobriety check point, and asked to see my license both times. The first time, I easily pulled it from my purse and went on my way.
The second time, I had to have my license the day before to enter the local aquarium (they had not put pictures on membership cards yet), and I could not locate it in my messy purse. The police officer finally got tired of waiting on me to find it. He apparently assessed that with my husband and daughter in the car, I must have a driver’s license. Or perhaps, he remembered me from just a couple of weeks before. Anyway, he said he believed I had a license, to just go on, but I had “better have it ready the next time.”
The “next time” really? Just how often do they plan for this to occur? I mean two times in less than a month in the same spot seemed excessive to me especially considering the amount of manpower it took, the side road that they were on, and the condition of the government’s budget.
Another reason is the unexpected adventures. My husband was driving down the mountain toward the town with my daughter and myself in the car when we saw blue flashing lights coming toward us. There were other car headlights, but they were behind the police car. It was a dark mountain road with no area on the side to pull off. My husband and I decided the only thing to do was just stop.
Shortly after we stopped, the police car slowly made a three-point turn in the road and started heading in the other direction. As the cars behind him passed us, we spotted the problem in the headlights of the police car now stopped in front of us. Cattle. There were two of them. They looked about the size of yearlings in the dark.
My husband got out and walked to the police car to see if he could help. There was another guy who had pulled his RTV off the road and found the cattle would follow him. In the end, we followed the police car following the cattle following the guy walking down the road the rest of the way down the mountain. It was a two or three miles.
Our ten minute trip to McDonald’s took 25 minutes instead.
The cattle finally convinced me I needed to stop traveling to or from that small city at night.
