Police and your looker

[lawrence]

Does anyone get pulled over regularly by police? What is the reason for getting pulled over? Any funny or interesting stories? Has a cop ever pulled you over to take a closer look at your car?

Lets hear 'em

[John Rayburn]

In the early eighties I got pulled over because the officer wanted to know where he could get his Beetle lowered.

[Bewitched666]

When i started with beetles when i lived in florida i got pulled over by the cops coz i ran a Stinger back then
This was the same when i lived in Curacao and in holland i got pulled over by the cops becoz i was driving 160 km and hour
and they couldnt believe a beetle went that fast. I showed them my then type 4 engine with porsche doghouse and they were convinced abd i got away with a warning and them driving behind me for 30 min

[Zach Gomulka]

Ive only been pulled over once in the GTV. He wanted to know what was up with the yellow and black 1969 AZ plate, so I had to educate him. 

[louisb]

Oh boy, I used to get harassed all the time in my '71. I had limo tint all the way around and the police were always pulling us over. Head lights too low, too loud, etc etc. Usually they would pull me over, give the car the once over to try and find something wrong, and when they couldn't, make something up.

--louis

[fastfred]

a certain norvegian guy got ticketed for littering in the harbor of oslo, just trying to get really dirty and salty water to use it on his (real) BRMs...

[Jim Ratto]

do you have a few hours for some stories?

more importantly, do I to write them? 

[John Rayburn]

If I had  a buck for every time I've been pulled over I'd be long retired. So here's another one. While driving lickety split to the pet store after a round of golf at Alta Vista, I was red lighted and asked why I was in such a hurry ? As the cop was asking me, he noticed the golf clubs in my back seat and asked if I'd played and what I'd shot? I said yes and I shot a 73. He said he'd never met a single digit handicap and would I mind helping him with a chipping problem he has. So we grabbed a couple clubs and I gave him a lesson in the planter. I guess it had been awhile since he radioed in so his Sergant showed up. I thought he'd be in trouble, but the Sergant needed help too, so we made it a group lesson. They thanked me and I went home with no ticket.

[lawrence]

Cool stories so far! Jim, we've got all the time in the world.

At one point in time I was running an open stinger on a 1641 and I never got pulled over. I would short shift and coast when cops were nearby. I probably just jinxed myself.

[Donny B.]

Shortly after I got my 1776 together I was having difficulty with the carbs (I hadn't disabled the enrichment circuit yet).  I turned onto the freeway access road and for the next mile tried to clear out the carbs with a wide open throttle.  When I got to the next light and was ready to turn for home I saw a highway patrol motorcycle officer.  My wife was with me and had been giving me a hard time for going so fast (somewhere between 70 and 80 in a 50mph zone).  She was saying "now you're going to get it!".  Well I made my turn went under the underpass and the cop followed me and promptly turned on his lights.  I pulled over and and when he approached I handed him my license.  The first words out of his mouth was "aren't you a little old to be doing this?"  "Yes officer" I said.  Then he asked what did I have in this and that it was a pretty clean little VW.  This was way before I had it restored.  He gave me a warning and sent me on my way.  The wife was dumbfounded when he didn't give me a ticket. 

[Fastbrit]

Long post – been on theother forum...
About five or six years ago (probably more...) I called by Dave Rhoads' shop in Stanton just as Mike Hunsaker was collecting his white cabriolet, with its new 2276 stroker (I think - may have been bigger). Mike asked if I wanted a drive before he loaded it up to tow it home. 'Sure!' – anyone who knows me knows i will drive anything, given the chance. After all, we are only on this earth once and may never get the chance again.

I fire up the Bug and turn right onto Katella, letting the motor get warm. Head up as far as Magnolia (see a Brit can find his way round OC...), took a right and then right again on Orangewood (aka 'Orangewood County Raceway', haha!). Take it up through the gears but traffic a little heavy. Get to Dale, take another right and nail it hard. As I shifted into third, I saw a gorgeous cute Mexican girl across the street, so had to take a look (we don't have too many Latino girls in the UK). As I turned my head back to concentrate on driving, something caught my eye. A double-take confirmed it was a black and white sat on donut duty. 'Damn!', or words to that effect. Granny-shifted into fourth, back off the throttle and drove slowly up to the stop light on Katella. Looked in mirror, nothing. Looked again, nothing. Lights change and I gently cruise onto Katella only to see the CHP in my mirror, all lights a-flashing. 'Hmm, time for talk'. Pull into the parking lot of a business across the road from Dave's shop and shut off the motor. Now I know enough from watching American TV shows that you don't get out of your car when pulled by a US cop, and you keep your hands on the wheel in full view.

''Having a little fun are we sir?", came the sarcastic greeting. KS now goes into full Brit mode. "Well, I'm over here from England and a friend offered me the chance to try his car". "Licence!" Er, OK. I hand him my British licence (now it's important to know that at the time our licences were just printed pieces of paper and did not have a photograph). "No, I want your licence", he says as he examines both sides of this piece of paper which was, after many years, held together by pieces of clear tape. "That is my licence". "No, your driver's licence" "That is my licence..." He walks off back to his car and stares at the paaper. Next he runs a plate check on the cabriolet and comes back to ask for the registration papers. At that point I didn't quite know what to do as we don't carry paperwork in our cars (it's like handing everything over to a car thief!). I looked around and saw a piece of paper in the glove box, handed that over and hoped it was what he was after.

At this point, a second black and white pulls in and I think "Right, that's it! Two cars, two cops – I'm going to jail or the car's going to be impounded!" They sit and talk for a while and at this point I look over to Dave's shop and can see Dave and Mike leaning against the wall watching the proceedings. After a few minutes, the first cop walks back to the car, hands me my licence and the car's papers and says nothing. Instead he just turns back and carries on talking to the second cop. Then he's on the radio again and I start to get nervous. After five minutes I start to think this is stupid, so i decide to fire up the car on the basis that if they don't want me to leave, they'll either scream at me or shoot me (I'd make a small target, so my chances were good...). No response. Select first gear, Nothing. Pull slowly out onto Katella. Not a look. Drive over to Dave's and there's Dave and Mike laughing their heads off. "We decided that if they got you up against the wall, we'd come and help, but you seemed to be doing OK..." said Mike.

And that, my friends, is how I got pulled for exhibition of speed in Orange County – and lived to tell the tale.

[IP359]

A long time ago, a headlights problem....... 

[Lee.C]

Long post – been on theother forum...
About five or six years ago (probably more...) I called by Dave Rhoads' shop in Stanton just as Mike Hunsaker was collecting his white cabriolet, with its new 2276 stroker (I think - may have been bigger). Mike asked if I wanted a drive before he loaded it up to tow it home. 'Sure!' – anyone who knows me knows i will drive anything, given the chance. After all, we are only on this earth once and may never get the chance again.

I fire up the Bug and turn right onto Katella, letting the motor get warm. Head up as far as Magnolia (see a Brit can find his way round OC...), took a right and then right again on Orangewood (aka 'Orangewood County Raceway', haha!). Take it up through the gears but traffic a little heavy. Get to Dale, take another right and nail it hard. As I shifted into third, I saw a gorgeous cute Mexican girl across the street, so had to take a look (we don't have too many Latino girls in the UK). As I turned my head back to concentrate on driving, something caught my eye. A double-take confirmed it was a black and white sat on donut duty. 'Damn!', or words to that effect. Granny-shifted into fourth, back off the throttle and drove slowly up to the stop light on Katella. Looked in mirror, nothing. Looked again, nothing. Lights change and I gently cruise onto Katella only to see the CHP in my mirror, all lights a-flashing. 'Hmm, time for talk'. Pull into the parking lot of a business across the road from Dave's shop and shut off the motor. Now I know enough from watching American TV shows that you don't get out of your car when pulled by a US cop, and you keep your hands on the wheel in full view.

''Having a little fun are we sir?", came the sarcastic greeting. KS now goes into full Brit mode. "Well, I'm over here from England and a friend offered me the chance to try his car". "Licence!" Er, OK. I hand him my British licence (now it's important to know that at the time our licences were just printed pieces of paper and did not have a photograph). "No, I want your licence", he says as he examines both sides of this piece of paper which was, after many years, held together by pieces of clear tape. "That is my licence". "No, your driver's licence" "That is my licence..." He walks off back to his car and stares at the paaper. Next he runs a plate check on the cabriolet and comes back to ask for the registration papers. At that point I didn't quite know what to do as we don't carry paperwork in our cars (it's like handing everything over to a car thief!). I looked around and saw a piece of paper in the glove box, handed that over and hoped it was what he was after.

At this point, a second black and white pulls in and I think "Right, that's it! Two cars, two cops – I'm going to jail or the car's going to be impounded!" They sit and talk for a while and at this point I look over to Dave's shop and can see Dave and Mike leaning against the wall watching the proceedings. After a few minutes, the first cop walks back to the car, hands me my licence and the car's papers and says nothing. Instead he just turns back and carries on talking to the second cop. Then he's on the radio again and I start to get nervous. After five minutes I start to think this is stupid, so i decide to fire up the car on the basis that if they don't want me to leave, they'll either scream at me or shoot me (I'd make a small target, so my chances were good...). No response. Select first gear, Nothing. Pull slowly out onto Katella. Not a look. Drive over to Dave's and there's Dave and Mike laughing their heads off. "We decided that if they got you up against the wall, we'd come and help, but you seemed to be doing OK..." said Mike.

And that, my friends, is how I got pulled for exhibition of speed in Orange County – and lived to tell the tale.

COOL story dude 

[Carlos De Alba]

Long post – been on theother forum...
About five or six years ago (probably more...) I called by Dave Rhoads' shop in Stanton just as Mike Hunsaker was collecting his white cabriolet, with its new 2276 stroker (I think - may have been bigger). Mike asked if I wanted a drive before he loaded it up to tow it home. 'Sure!' – anyone who knows me knows i will drive anything, given the chance. After all, we are only on this earth once and may never get the chance again.

I fire up the Bug and turn right onto Katella, letting the motor get warm. Head up as far as Magnolia (see a Brit can find his way round OC...), took a right and then right again on Orangewood (aka 'Orangewood County Raceway', haha!). Take it up through the gears but traffic a little heavy. Get to Dale, take another right and nail it hard. As I shifted into third, I saw a gorgeous cute Mexican girl across the street, so had to take a look (we don't have too many Latino girls in the UK). As I turned my head back to concentrate on driving, something caught my eye. A double-take confirmed it was a black and white sat on donut duty. 'Damn!', or words to that effect. Granny-shifted into fourth, back off the throttle and drove slowly up to the stop light on Katella. Looked in mirror, nothing. Looked again, nothing. Lights change and I gently cruise onto Katella only to see the CHP in my mirror, all lights a-flashing. 'Hmm, time for talk'. Pull into the parking lot of a business across the road from Dave's shop and shut off the motor. Now I know enough from watching American TV shows that you don't get out of your car when pulled by a US cop, and you keep your hands on the wheel in full view.

''Having a little fun are we sir?", came the sarcastic greeting. KS now goes into full Brit mode. "Well, I'm over here from England and a friend offered me the chance to try his car". "Licence!" Er, OK. I hand him my British licence (now it's important to know that at the time our licences were just printed pieces of paper and did not have a photograph). "No, I want your licence", he says as he examines both sides of this piece of paper which was, after many years, held together by pieces of clear tape. "That is my licence". "No, your driver's licence" "That is my licence..." He walks off back to his car and stares at the paaper. Next he runs a plate check on the cabriolet and comes back to ask for the registration papers. At that point I didn't quite know what to do as we don't carry paperwork in our cars (it's like handing everything over to a car thief!). I looked around and saw a piece of paper in the glove box, handed that over and hoped it was what he was after.

At this point, a second black and white pulls in and I think "Right, that's it! Two cars, two cops – I'm going to jail or the car's going to be impounded!" They sit and talk for a while and at this point I look over to Dave's shop and can see Dave and Mike leaning against the wall watching the proceedings. After a few minutes, the first cop walks back to the car, hands me my licence and the car's papers and says nothing. Instead he just turns back and carries on talking to the second cop. Then he's on the radio again and I start to get nervous. After five minutes I start to think this is stupid, so i decide to fire up the car on the basis that if they don't want me to leave, they'll either scream at me or shoot me (I'd make a small target, so my chances were good...). No response. Select first gear, Nothing. Pull slowly out onto Katella. Not a look. Drive over to Dave's and there's Dave and Mike laughing their heads off. "We decided that if they got you up against the wall, we'd come and help, but you seemed to be doing OK..." said Mike.

And that, my friends, is how I got pulled for exhibition of speed in Orange County – and lived to tell the tale.

Great post......!!! 

[lawrence]

I remember that one, Keith. Very good. The part where you get the balls to pull away from the cops sitting right behind you is the craziest part!!

[Jim Ratto]

Cool stories so far! Jim, we've got all the time in the world.

At one point in time I was running an open stinger on a 1641 and I never got pulled over. I would short shift and coast when cops were nearby. I probably just jinxed myself.

I almost got cuffed and stuffed for stinger.....many years ago.

between 1987 and 1991 I think every Pleasanton cop got to know me by my first name. Partly because of my driving habits and my car, partly because of my asshole neighbor and partly because I used to give them free pizza at the pizza parlor I worked at (helped keep their eyes "turned the other way" sometimes).
There was one officer, Officer Kelly O'Neal, who actually became a friend of mine over time, that seemed to have me in his sights for a long time. I think he nailed me for speeding 4 or 5 times in a row. One day I was on my way to my friend's house, in my '67, and got a glance of O'Neal in my rear view. I upshifted, pulled out of the throttle....etc....signaled for lane change...etc. He stops me anyway! I was baffled. WTF?
He walks up to my Bug, I roll down window...and I ask him "What'd I do?"

"Nothing, just wanted to say hi"    

Another time, after I built my old 94 x 74 Super Flow motor, FK87, IDAs....I was driving to work at Buggy House, came down off 680 freeway to merge onto 580 freeway up and over Dublin grade. As I got onto 580 I wrung the poor car's neck hard....probably 65-6800 in 2nd, then same in 3rd. Soon I have CHP on me. Lights on....crap. I pull over and the cop is a VW guy. Yee ha. He starts asking me how I got a VW to get up the grade so fast, I get out, open decklid, we talk cars...he's restoring a convertible bug....I hand him a Buggy House business card....NO TICKET!  

[Russell]

Jim

As always great stories.

Thanks

[Russell]

keith

Any pictures from back then when you were touring ?

[Rick Meredith]

I got a bunch of cop stories...

1st date with a girl who was into VWs. She had a black 68 or 69 with relatively stock motor. She asked if she could drive my car so I swapped seats with her. Oh I should add that it's night. So we're sitting at a stoplight on Westminster Ave and I think Euclid. She asks me if she can "Get on it." and I said sure. Light turns green She wraps it up and dumps the clutch leaving a big old smoky burn out takes it up to redline and grabs second with tires squealing. Just then the car lights up red! Seem that little Miss 1st Date didn't look in her rear view mirror to see the Garden Grove patrol car behind us at the light. She then proceeded to "cry" herself out of a ticket but I get a ticket for being too low and too loud. 

[louisb]

I got a bunch of cop stories...

1st date with a girl who was into VWs. She had a black 68 or 69 with relatively stock motor. She asked if she could drive my car so I swapped seats with her. Oh I should add that it's night. So we're sitting at a stoplight on Westminster Ave and I think Euclid. She asks me if she can "Get on it." and I said sure. Light turns green She wraps it up and dumps the clutch leaving a big old smoky burn out takes it up to redline and grabs second with tires squealing. Just then the car lights up red! Seem that little Miss 1st Date didn't look in her rear view mirror to see the Garden Grove patrol car behind us at the light. She then proceeded to "cry" herself out of a ticket but I get a ticket for being too low and too loud. 

ROFL!

--louis

[Grelland]

This happened about 15 years ago when I was a student, and drove a very low '61 sedan. My friend's grandmother lived in the same town, and we decided we would help her out in her garden one day. Sha had two huge apple trees, so we got the seemingly great idea to fill up the interior of the car with apples, and take them to the local brewery to exchange for apple cider....

Well, what do you think happenes with a seriously lowered car that get filled up to the lower edge of the windows with apples... You guessed it, it becomes SERIOUSY low...

Unfortunately the brewery was located almost next door to the local road authority office, so one of the over-eager employees there saw us coming from the lunch room, ran out, got on his private motorcyle and stopped us and ordered us back to the station for an inspection.

Well, we didnt quite make it into the inspection hall, as there is norally a steel edge around the man-hole in the floor, some 3/4 of an inch high, and we could not get the front end over that edge.

The guy simply pulled up a screwdriver, undid the plate bolts, and handed me the bus schedule....

No ticket, though....

[Cornpanzer]

A couple years ago when I first got the turbo motor running, I took a buddy for a ride in it.  At the time the carb settings were still out of whack and it would load up and foul the plugs if you let it drop to idle at all.  I had to use my heel to pump the throttle whenever I stopped at a stop sign or light.

Well, we went for our ride and turned back on my street which has one intersection with a 4-way stop.  What do I see when I looked down there, but one of Centerville's finest running radar for people who use my street as a shortcut.   He is parked up on the curb about 10 feet behind the stop sign - yep, right where my exhaust will be dumping when I pull up.  (I should mention that I am in a quiet residential area of a notoriously stuffy neighborhood.  I am also running slicks and a straight pipe out of the turbo).

So, I coast up to the stop sign, trying to make as little noise as possible.  I come to a 3 sec stop, look both ways and start to release the clutch when the engine starts loading up.  I try to open the throttle just enough to clear it out and it loads up worse.  Eventually, it gets so loaded up that I have my foot flat on the floor and its just sitting there at 900 rpm going, GLUGG, GLUGG, GLUGG and pumping clouds of C-16 fumes into this cops open window. 

Fully expecting a police issue handgun to appear out of the smoke, I finally give up and click it off.  My buddy and I got out of the car, looked at the cop with a sheepish grin and proceeded to push the car a block to my house with smoke still wafting from the exhaust.  He never said a word. 

[louisb]

A couple years ago when I first got the turbo motor running, I took a buddy for a ride in it.  At the time the carb settings were still out of whack and it would load up and foul the plugs if you let it drop to idle at all.  I had to use my heel to pump the throttle whenever I stopped at a stop sign or light.

Well, we went for our ride and turned back on my street which has one intersection with a 4-way stop.  What do I see when I looked down there, but one of Centerville's finest running radar for people who use my street as a shortcut.   He is parked up on the curb about 10 feet behind the stop sign - yep, right where my exhaust will be dumping when I pull up.  (I should mention that I am in a quiet residential area of a notoriously stuffy neighborhood.  I am also running slicks and a straight pipe out of the turbo).

So, I coast up to the stop sign, trying to make as little noise as possible.  I come to a 3 sec stop, look both ways and start to release the clutch when the engine starts loading up.  I try to open the throttle just enough to clear it out and it loads up worse.  Eventually, it gets so loaded up that I have my foot flat on the floor and its just sitting there at 900 rpm going, GLUGG, GLUGG, GLUGG and pumping clouds of C-16 fumes into this cops open window. 

Fully expecting a police issue handgun to appear out of the smoke, I finally give up and click it off.  My buddy and I got out of the car, looked at the cop with a sheepish grin and proceeded to push the car a block to my house with smoke still wafting from the exhaust.  He never said a word. 

See, turbos cause nothing but trouble. If you had had your IDAs on then it wouldn't have even been an issue. 

--louis

[Grelland]

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