I think I see it poking above the scraggly, dry brush lining the highway, but it’s hard to tell. The air bends into waves in the Texas heat. I hate being wrong, so I twist the focus on the heavy black binoculars in my small seven-year old hands. Is it a white roof or a mirage behind that prickly-pear cactus? Then I catch the light bar and the telltale black hood. “DR. PEPPER SQUAD” I cry out from the back seat as my dad eases off the gas and taps the brakes. Victory.
I’m now 40 years old and I’ve driven hundreds of cars and crossed tens of thousands of miles. In all this time I’ve never gotten a speeding ticket. Not in a Bugatti. Not in a Lamborghini. Not in a Toyota RAV4. I’m not a speed demon, but there are times when the road is empty and straight where I let the needle climb. More when I was a younger, less often now when my daughter is with me. Still, I’m not going to feign a virtue I don’t have. Sometimes I channel my inner Sammy Hagar.
There’s no radar/laser detector in my car. No tricky, hidden jammers. Just instinct.
It’s an instinct honed over years of trips with my father. He didn’t fly anywhere. He just drove. A lot of my family is in the multi-modal goods transport business, which is to say there are a lot of truckers, so miles have never fazed him.
When I was five, my father worked as a maintenance man for a small school district adjacent to Corpus Christi’s military base. Because he worked there, I was able to attend kindergarten at what was considered one of the better public elementary schools. It was a much longer drive from our modest house to that school than the primary school in our neighborhood, but I didn’t mind and neither did my dad. It was just more time together.
There were a lot of cops along the ruler straight South Padre Island Drive and so, perhaps to pass the time, my dad made a game out of me trying to spot them. At some level, I suspect, my dad also really didn’t want a speeding ticket.
When summer came the game went on pause. My mom decided I was a bright kid and there wasn’t enough opportunity for me in our corner of South Texas, let alone for her. So she left my dad a note on the fridge that said we had to move, packed me and my stuffed bear in our Isuzu Impulse, and drove to Suburban Houston where the schools were better and the jobs were more plentiful. It was up to dad to sell the house, find a job, and come join us as fast as he could. In the interim, I’d live with my grandparents.
We drove back-and-forth a lot. This was back when the speed limit on Highway 59 was an intolerable 55 mph for most of the way between Houston and Corpus Christi. Usually it was in the bright red Isuzu coupe, picked up as a repo and sold to my dad with the astoundingly low interest rate of 13.5%.
My dad also didn’t have a radar detector. It wasn’t a point of pride so much as a matter of thrift. A hard worker his entire life, much of the disposable income he had, on the odd times he had it, was spent on camps, lessons, and learning toys for me. There was no expectation that I did anything with the money other than be happy.
Ok, there was one expectation. When we’d hit the road, which was fairly often, he’d ask me to help spot cops. In fact, he didn’t have to ask anymore, I’d just do it. Eventually, I got ahold of some oversized binoculars, which gave me a real leg up on the heat. Before I could multiply or divide, I could spot the difference between a Goliad County sheriff’s deputy and a Refugio city cop at two miles distance.
It wasn’t enough to just see a cop, that’s easy. The real sport is in being able to call out exactly what it is first. Was it a “county mountie” or a local “smokie?” On the rare moments I’d see a helicopter I knew it was a “bear in the air,” although I’m fairly certain none of the choppers we saw were actually cops.
My favorite law enforcement officer to find, though, and most common, was the iconic black-white-and-gold of the Texas Department of Public Safety Highway Patrol, aka the DPS, aka the Dr. Pepper Squad, named for the popular prune-inflected soda created in Texas to impress a gal’s dad.
Most often they were Caprices. But on a good day I’d see a glorious Foxbody Mustang.
“Dr. Pepper Squad Mustang” I’d call out from the back seat. Then my dad would slow down and smile a big smile under his mustache–a mustache so thick it made Tom Selleck look like Moby.
It was a game, more than anything, and I loved it.
And the lessons stuck. The instinct. I haven’t (yet) handed my daughter a pair of binoculars, but I do cue her to where the cops might likely be. It’s almost a tick at this point to call out every police officer I see when I drive. And I see a lot. There’s a pattern to it. The police don’t just post up in random places.
- Town entrances: Whether a statie or a local, law enforcement loves to set up in the liminal speed zones where the speed limit dramatically drops.
- Over rises: This is a no-brainer, but the element of surprise only works when you’re surprised. Especially in the plains, these little rises afford a bit of cover.
- Forest breaks: The absence of something is often more revealing than its presence. As you look down the road and see the trees thin out that’s a good sign of a little side road where a cruiser could pop its nose out.
- Behind shrubs: Especially as it gets flatter, cover is hard to come by, a shrub or a small mesquite is better than nothing.
- Past Underpasses: I’m sure that there are police officers somewhere who set up under overpasses, but in my experience they tend to post up well past to grab people who don’t see them on the other side.
- Feeder Roads: This is somewhat unique to Texas, but the highways and byways of the Lone Star State feature long, parallel roads with numerous onramps. Why hide on the road when you can hide one road over?
Now when I drive I find myself laying off the gas ahead of these, and similar, obstacles. The longer I drive the more I get into the rhythm of it. Speeding up a little where I know it’s safe and then backing off when the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
Sure, I can use Waze, and sometimes I do, but it takes the fun out of it. The roads are long and full of predators and using Waze is like fishing with dynamite. That’s not how I was raised.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad!
Magnificent.
Beautiful story! Thank you! 🙂
I liked this story very much. It made me have feelings.
My dad died before I got to car driving age. I don’t remember how he drove, but I do remember the weird Citroens he had, and it was only when I bought my third car that I managed to get a weird Honda instead.
Good advice – I’m going to be driving from Seattle to Pittsburgh later this summer and have not driven through the (northern) midwest before where elevation changes are but a dream.
Great tribute, Matt. Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Hardigree!
I swear the time the DPC got me the officer was driving an early 90’s B4C Camaro.
Was this a thing? It was 20+ years ago and memory can be deceitful.
It sure was a thing.
I remember the 55 mph limit. Dark days. Most people agreed that the thing to do was set your cruise control on 62. I never got a ticket for that. 65 was right out as my friends would attest. Great story about your dad!
62 or 63 was the recommendation I got….from my Driver’s Ed teacher!
The California Highway Patrol has a saying: “Nine you’re fine, ten, you’re mine”. So as long as your speedometer is accurate, staying at 79 (or a bit below) in a 70 zone on I-5 is safe.
There are so many drivers going twenty over that it’s like shooting fish in a barrel for them.
Every now and then some fool weaves in and out of traffic, passing everyone, without using their turn signals. I haven’t figured out yet how they manage to get away with it.
Fun story and tangentially related. My dad used to be a cop, from the late ’70s when he joined to avoid mandatory military service here in Germany to his pension in the ’10s.
Back when he joined the cops he had to cut off his long (70s, remember?) hair due to regulations, and being the stubborn s.o.b. that men in my family tend to be he started growing it out again the day he retired. Maybe a year or two after his retirement I was driving him somewhere in my shitbox-of-the-day which I believe was a 20-year-old Suzuki Baleno at the time. We saw a police car sitting at the roadside maybe a kilometer ahead, my dad looked at me (beard, long hair, metal shirt), looked at himself (beard, long hair), looked at my shoddy car and started chuckling “we’re so gonna get pulled over”
Excellent article, and made me think of my dad, very timely.
When I was little I lived with my dad for most of the summers, and for his job he drove a company car. We would drive all day going all over the southwest and southeast. Never had binoculars, but I was the lookout, and got pretty good at it, which has served me well. After a few years, when I went over in the summer, his company car now had a CB radio. Apparently he got ticketed, and decided that wasn’t happening again. A couple more years, it became a radar detector. Can’t slow a fast guy down.
Thanks for reminding me of all those crazy road trips.
Even as late as the early ’00s, a CB radio was way better than any radar detector, at least out on the Interstates. Just by listening on Channel 19 you’d know every detail about every cop for a hundred miles in either direction. It was glorious.
My Dad was a cop for many years. We played the same game. Eventually it got to be like a sixth sense. It would freak him out, I could feel or smell them miles before we saw them. Still saving my ass 60 years later.
How is the story about a cop in his cop car on duty getting pulled over for speeding and aggressive driving not posted on the site?
I’m old enough to know I drive like my father. Five over, maybe just under 10 on the highway, strict observance in towns.
At 68 I’ve had one speeding ticket…in 1993.
I’m 69 and also have had only one speeding ticket. I was mostly lucky. In my younger days I drove very carefully in small towns. “Suspicion of hippie” was a real thing back then.
If jinxes actually do exist, you’ve just tempted fate like no one else in history.
My thought exactly!
Current Houston suburbanite here, but 1-2 times a year I make the long trek back to my childhood home in FL, and it is a bit of a lost art finding those cops hiding, also going 25 years with a clean sheet. (Those thinned out trees in the Panhandle of FL is a favorite) On a more personal note, what model isuzu? in the 80’s/early 90’s my dad had a grey Isuzu I-mark.
Living in Sugar Land before moving to CA, I know what you’re referring to, at least on I-10 east. Used to have to drive my step-family back to visit their family across TX, LA, and MS, and you get pretty good at guessing where they are hiding, but it doesn’t always work, got at least two tickets at small towns in LA.
I thought it was an Impulse, which of I had a mid-80s model. Loved it for what it was, very solid car.
As we learn the cops learn. Having spent a few years living in Katy working in Houston avoiding tickets is easy. Let some jackass get out in front by a mile and stay behind. Never lie to the trooper but if you can get him to laugh you get a pass. Never say why arent you chasing real criminals, that doesnt pay the bills. Always be respectful you can get a no points ticket instead.
Impulse! Though my mom also briefly had an i-Mark.
Sounds like you honed your cop spotting skills through much more wholesome means than I.
Not a single moving violation on my record though, so the same end results I guess.
That’s a lovely piece, with the photos and all. This may be a good time to say thanks for the recent birthday email you sent, with the Torchinsky drawing of a 70 LTD. That was lovely too. Nonsubscribers, you don’t know what you are missing.
I was taught that if you don’t see the cop, you are driving too fast for the conditions.
Thats no fun get pulled over when you both no you were speeding and see if you can talk yourself out of a ticket. Did that a few times at 100+ but no not always but never speeding no points is a win.
The point is, pay attention. This is not the same (OK, in a way the same) as facebooking on your phone while going to drop the kids off at ballet and picking up a latte. You’re likely to be somewhere where high speed driving can be a whole lot more expensive than a ticket. I can’t remember how many times I have heard people say after getting a ticket, they didn’t notice the cop. If you’re driving, there’s a lot of serious stuff to notice. Pay attention.
I got good at this during college, driving between the Chicago suburbs and Superior, WI. Wisconsin state police are sneaky, and use all of those hiding spots and then some. The townie cops along US 53 were even worse, and I did get pulled over twice by Rice Lake cops, but only got a warning.
I likewise have never gotten a speeding ticket, something my dad could not say. Though with that Hemi that I inherited from him, my number may be up at some point. That thing cruises at 80 way too easily.
Wisconsin cops were everywhere about 20 years ago between the Illinois state line and Milwaukee. I didn’t mess around once I crossed the line, especially rocking Illinois plates.
I remember one instance where they had a guy on the shoulder clocking people and about 6 troopers on the entrance ramp waiting for the go-ahead.
The Dr. Pepper Squad nabbed an old girlfriend and I while on a road trip.
After an overpass he just came flying out of the weeds on the left side of the highway.
In seconds he was aggressively on us, a little scary.
After checking her license and registration he said he liked her bumper sticker, chuckled and let us go with a warning.
The bumper sticker: “Condoms are easier to change than diapers”
Lol! Yeah, they love to hide after overpasses. Great bumper sticker, too, as someone who has had to purchase both!
wow, brings back memories…used to do the stretch between Victoria and Refugio often (attended Victoria CC) and got to know some of the “Dr. Pepper Squad” troopers on a first name basis while admiring their fox ‘stangs. Wasn’t much better between Refugio and Mustang Island, so we knew to keep it somewhat cool on the way back home.
This is the way. We never had a pair of binoculars (great idea), but I, too, learned the art of spotting where they might be. It’s served me well over the years. I can’t claim as good a record as you. But a great celebration of your relationship. Well done.
The other fun one is the rolling speedtrap. Unmarked car or a team of unmarked cars will be going exactly the speed limit in the fast lane. Almost got me in CT, but he used his discretion and only gave me the cruise lights (which is a thing apparently now). Passed him with someone else pulled over a couple miles on.
Give me the unusual. It was either this or the I’m a pepper, wouldn’t you like to be a pepper to?
I’ve got a lead foot and have gotten a few tickets over the years, mostly in town.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axZxAzJ8GeM
Yeah, my father never got tickets and in 30+ years on the road, I’ve gotten three (well-deserved). I used to brag that I had this instinct honed as well, but it’s gotten harder with the passing of the Crown Vic – those Explorers blend in so much better.
Plus I do take that shortcut and keep an eye on Google Maps. Honestly not much of an issue where I live as even when I’m speeding there’s always plenty of people who like to do 90+ in a 55 without giving a s**t. I get passed constantly while doing 70, so I never feel like a target.
The Explorers are a fave with my local LEOs. None of the Police issue Explorers have roof racks. It used to be that all civilian Explorers had the rack but now the ST can be had without. Better to slow down a bit and verify.
Also look for non-alloy wheels, spot lights, government plates. Sometimes you can make out flashers mounted in the back window.
Yes and you can often spot the wrap around corners of the push bumpers protruding outside the fenders before being able to determine if that’s a roof rack or a low profile light bar on top.
I also make a habit of checking traffic merging in from on ramps for likely LEO vehicles with these traits.
Deciphering them from their headlights has become significantly more difficult.
“[M]uch of the disposable income he had, on the odd times he had it, was spent on camps, lessons, and learning toys for me. There was no expectation that I did anything with the money other than be happy.”
I loved the whole essay, but this was my favorite part. I’ve climbed from a poor kid to an upper-middle class parent, and the pressure that parents put on their young kids to excel at every extracurricular is nuts. Just let them have fun. The learning happens naturally.
Same! The greatest inheritance I got from my parents was appreciating what I have.
How many people still flash their headlights to warn oncoming drivers of speed traps? I do. I’ve always wondered if anyone still remembers what that means. I feel like I’m one of a dying breed.
Then yesterday someone flashed their lights at me as a warning, and I felt vindicated.
I still see people doing it. There are so many state troopers in New York it’s almost not worth doing on a weekend, but when I’m on a backroad and see a super sneaky speed trap I’ll flash the brights.
I still do it! I see it from time to time when I have to jump on I-94 in Michigan.
I do. I run I-10 from TX to the east coast way too frequently, and I always try to post a heads up to fellow travelers when I can. And I appreciate it when they do the same.
There’s definitely less and less all the time, so those of us who do it have got to stick to it that much more
Raises hand
This is still a big thing in rural Maine. Every once in a while a rusted Cummins flashing the brights can scare a summer person, who slams on their brakes out of confusion and fear.
Grew up in rural Maine. Can confirm.
IIRC there is a law on the books that allows them to pull you over for doing it. I saw a few pulled over when they didn’t realize they were flashing an undercover going the other direction.
It was also a strange experience moving to a state that has NO undercover police cars for traffic duty.
I still do it, but agree that it feels like fewer people in this country do and remember what it means. Eastern Europe though, particularly Bulgaria; everyone does it. Which is a little weird, because the cops there don’t hide at all. They park on the side of the road and wave a little stick if they want you to pull over. Odd experience.