This past Saturday we trekked over to Tillamook on a curd run. We’ve been purchasing cheese curds direct from Ellsworth Cooperative Creamery in Wisconsin but since they don’t have dry-ice containers for shipping, they’ll only send them during the winter months.
The trip to Tillamook runs along the beautifully, scenic and wild Wilson River and we usually stop at a few spots along the way so the dog can swim. Mac loves running against the current so the water splashes across his chest and face where he tries catching it in his mouth. If we stop at a relatively calm pool he’ll swim in circles, yelping for us to throw something for him to retrieve. But I think the activity I enjoy watchng the most is the doggie treadmill. He’ll find a nice deep spot just below some rapids and swim in place until he’s exhausted or we’re ready to move on. It’s usually the latter.
About a third of the way through the Coast Range we saw a sheriff parked along side the highway with his lights flashing. As we approached we could see he had a car pulled over so I slowed a bit and tried to hug the center line as the shoulder is rather narrow. As I was passing the sheriff looked directly at me and then began to move swiftly to his car. I thought it kind of strange so I watched him in the rearview mirror as he ran to his car, jumped in and sped up behind me. I mentioned it to Mark and he blamed it on my beard; he swears it makes me look like a terrorist. I laughed it off just as the sheriff threw on his lights to pull me over.
Now I haven’t been pulled over in more than 15 years so this was kind of unnerving. Not to mention that I was doing absolutely nothing wrong. So, the sheriff gets out of his car and walks slowly up to the back of the Subaru where the dog is sitting which causes Mac to start barking as viciously and loudly as possible. He then approached my window to tell me that the tags on the car were improperly displayed (Mark had put them on backward last time he renewed his registration) and asked us to stay in the car while he looked at the front plate as well. It was then that I realized he didn’t notice the problem when he looked at me from the side of the road. He actually did just see me and head for his car. Mark was right…I had been profiled.
After looking at the front plate he asks us to get out of the car so he can show us what was wrong with the tags. Then he ordered us back into the car and told me he’d just give me a warning this time but I must get this fixed on Monday. He kept repeating how lucky I am that he was such a nice guy and would not give me the $97 ticket, while all I could think was how unlucky I am not to be closer to Tillamook and that honking huge caramel praline crunch ice cream cone that had my name on it. About ten
hours minutes later I thought he was about to wrap things up when he decided he should see my license, registration and proof of insurance. I gave him the docs and he started questioning the insurance document. Finally, he took the documents to his car and we waited another ten minutes for him to find out we weren’t homicidal maniacs but just a couple of ‘mo’s out for a weekend drive.
Returning to the car he quickly reminded us to get the tags fixed and again mentioned how lucky we were that he was the one that pulled us over. I swear this yahoo needs to learn the meaning of the word lucky.
Needless to say the rest of the day continued without a hitch. The ice cream was every bit as delicious as I expected, the dog wore himself out in the river, lunch at Alice’s was scrumptious and we now have a freezer full of cheese curds. And, as Mark mentioning…I won’t attempt to fly anywhere until the beard comes off next month.