Quote from Rook: "Hey groomlake, is there such thing as police who sport ride when off duty? Would one be any safer from tickets riding fast with a pack of speed loving off duty cops?"
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Ok... Yes and no (sorta)... LOL!!! Some history & background that most may find amusing... The key thing here is police and Harley Davidson; and this nexus is still alive, well, and prevalent.
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In days of old and knights were bold (well you know the rest of that "ditty"), I finished my edumacation at the big kollidge (on one of them thar ROTC scholarships) and thanks to Congress changing the law which resulted in me not having to go back on active duty, I decided to get an honest job that would not require me to deploy every six months to more strange, far off, long forgotten places where we was all kinda' supposed to win the hearts and minds of the people before burning their little huts down...
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Now, all good ole' boy humor aside... my wife and I made a deal - whoever got the best job first, then that's where we would do the homestead, raise some children, grow old (and when we got rid of the kids... head off to some remote hills in Arkansas from which we emanated...). Being poor, my wife (to whom I shall refer to as She Who Must Be Obeyed - "SWMBO"), had the car and I had my 1982 Katana (GS650G) with the orange rims, and orange seat which I bought in Germany before returning to go back to school (at the DOD's expense... LOL!!!).
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That bike allowed me to get to and from school, and was used to go back and forth to the police department where I did my BA and MS internships (Barboursville, WV). Nobody said a word - other than the ooh-aah comments. I recall that there was a HD or two at the PD. The greatest "ration of crap" came from the reserve/NG unit to which I was assigned for the purpose of the scholarship requirements. It was HD heaven, and "sportbike" acceptance in the US in 1983-1984 was, shall we say, not a high priority on the general motorcycle owners kumbaya list. If you did not own a HD, you were close to edge of being a radical pinko, closet commie, leftist leaning, and downright suspiciously almost anti-American who should be on some sort of list somewhere... Oh well...
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Moving forward... It was the dark days of the early and brutally cold winter of '84 in WV. SWMBO had several job offers, including Labelle in South Florida. She dutifully did the interviews, and when she got back she simply said that she was tired of being cold, wet, tired and hungry after many many years in Germany, NJ, WV, etc. Don't get me wrong, here, SWMBO is a southern girl, born, raised and schooled in Arkansas (UA Razorbacks); which might not be seasonally extreme, per. se., but still, gives one the appreciation for seasons, and not generally freezing to death during the winters.
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Well, Florida it was, and she packed the minimum, took the vehicle, and left me to finish my BS/MS stuff, and riding a motorcycle to and from school. We lived on a hill in the woods about 10 miles from campus, and I looked like a cross between a polar bear and a monkey on a football. Talk about really learning to ride a motorcycle, LOL!!! It was really bad during November-December of that year, and I had to slide it into a snowbank and hike the final mile up to the "house in the woods".
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I left the ice cold world of academia in late December, loaded our pitiful belongings (and the bike...) in a U-haul and headed south. Last time I had seen Florida was during a traumatic introduction to sand and strange sadistic instructors at a MIL SCUBA school in Key West back in 1971. But those PTSD memories cleared up the further south I traveled. I was in fine fettle when I arrived at our new abode.
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Now you have to understand that most of my life had been spent outside the USA, and I was still grappling with the nuances of American english, local customs, and the native indigeneous populations... Upon arrival, I cleaned my happy self up, geared up and headed to the local Sheriff's offices in the two counties. The first Sheriff I met told me that since I was a "college boy", he'd like to hire me to bring some sophistication into the agency.
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Where the hell he got that idea, I'll never know - and probably don't want to know. But he said that he had no budget until October of 1985, and asked me to become a reserve, go to the police academy, etc, and be ready for 1 October... Thought to myself at that time, "Self?, need to eat and pay rent". So I accepted the offer. In the interim, SWMBO had found me a job!!! I was the "News Director" for WVHG radio station!! I had some fame there as the most accurate weather predictor in the local area. Of course, how hard is that when 99% of the time the forecast simply required you to go outside and check the temps and basically say that there was a chance of T-storms in the afternoon, and that it would cool off below 90 by late evening...
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So much for that phase... Now, in terms of relevance to Rook's question... The fact of the matter was that the good ole' boys (including the Sheriff, Chief Deputy and the rest of the late night hog hunters...) did not like my "appearance" at 1430 hours (after finishing my 0500-1300 shift at the radio) driving that Un-American Katana. So... even though I was not "hired", they gave me a spare "take home" patrol car. Never looked back.
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As soon as I received a real paycheck (radio stations don't pay enough to live on...), I traded the Katana in for a NIB warranty VF750R. Most of the Sheriff's office folks did not like that either... Did not matter much as the head of Road Patrol was a "dick" (his wife worked for the competing newspaper...), so i was assigned to permanent midnights, assigned to the "Heart of Darkness" areas, and generally considered as a pariah. Fortunately, I was, politically, safe.
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In early-1986, SWMBO was promoted!!! She left Labelle and took over as the Editor of the Okeechobee News and was tasked to make it a daily paper. In the interim, I had traded the VF750R for a FJ1200 (sorta' like the ZX14R Ninja in the old days...). Four days on and three days off for me. Okeechobee is 60 miles, one way. The FJ1200 was a whole different way to drive compared with the then so-called "superbike". The FJ's were among the first of the "hyperbikes". Midnight punishment shifts were over and I was now on permanent "mids" from 1800 to 0200 hours... The path from Labelle to Okeeville at 3:00 AM was like driving on the dark side of the moon. Nobody... except me and the one or two midnight shift patrols in Glades and Okeechobee County.
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Here yah go Rook!! Before I left Labelle after the end of the fourth shift day at 0300..., I had the dispatcher call Glades County and Okeechobee County and advise them that I was headed home... at warp speed, LOL!!!! To be sure every coupla' days, I'd pull over and say hello to the lone rangers, and made sure they were happy with my "rapid transit". The fastest time I was able to do was 37 minutes at an average of almost 90 mph.
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Regardless of my "arrangement", the fact of the matter was that living in a shit trailer with another deputy, having to "transit" just to see my beloved, and not to mention the permanent "mids" which pretty much ruined one of the three precious days I could spend with my bride, enough was enough. I went to the Sheriff and asked if had any objections to me "transferring" up to Okeechobee County.
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Meanwhile... the dealer in Fort Myers called me in late August and wanted to know if I wanted to trade the FJ1200 in for a NIB VF1000RR. They wanted a FJ and nobody wanted the "radical" RR. Straight trade, and included the factory stand, etc. Never looked back, and other than the ZX14R, the VF1000RR is my favorite, bestest and most beloved motorcycle I ever owned!!
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The Sheriff of Hendry County called the Sheriff of Okeechobee County and offered to transfer the "college boy". I interviewed in mid September (which consisted of sitting on a stool in the new Sheriff's office and being asked strange questions about my politics...). I showed up for that interview on the VF1000RR, and the Sheriff and the Chief Deputy were there in the parking lot when I arrived. I wish I had a camera at that encounter...
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I finished my last shift, set the "world land speed record" for the trip at 35 minutes, arrived at the house, changed and SWMBO gave me a ride to the new "office". Got my uniforms, patrol car, went home, changed and that was it. I rarely if ever drove the VF1000RR to the Sheriff's office.
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There were a few members of the PD and the Sheriff's Office who drove bikes. Virtually all were less than courteous, let alone friendly when they discovered I rode one of them anti-merican "jap" bikes.
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On that note, I never really "fit" there, and over the years learned to just do the deed and go home. I was on the "road" for only one year, and then "promoted" to detective and pretty much did special assignments/ major crimes. My life was somewhat miserable because everyone knew that my wife was the Editor of the paper, and every article or letters to the editor that they disagreed with - most of them..., I was to blame because I obviously could not control my left wing liberal "bride".
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Looking back? I had one or two friends (the Sheriff's Exec Assistant), and one road sergeant who for some reason decided I was not a "threat". I was never invited to any parties, social gatherings, etc. Most of the LE personnel referred to me as the "IA guy" (which I did not do), or Agent Mulder (X-files). In the latter years of my "career" with the Sheriff's Office, I was the "Boat Boy" in a pejorative sense; as the Marine Officer, I was 10 miles away in my own building and owned the SAR and the Dive Team.
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When I retired a few years ago (taking my MIL and State retirement), I never looked back. The mentality is still the same, and everyone on this forum knows what I mean. The vast majority of police simply have no use for sport bikes. It's perhaps not as bad as it was. The new OIC of the traffic unit rides a sport bike, but he keeps rather quiet about it. The HD riders still gather for the noisy normal speed run to the coast or Sebring for "breakfast", but mostly for the camaraderie of the "culture", not to meet other riders, etc.
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To conclude with the short answer to Rook's question... Most police ride HD's off duty, and generally do not like "sportbike" riders. Given the average sportbike rider profile, I must agree with that perception. We who ride the very expensive "hyperbikes" are far more conservative than the "Gixxer" profile. But we are lone voices in the melee out there on the street.
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As far as riding fast with a pack of hard charging sportbike owning police? Probably not a good idea, because at some point, their agency will find out (usually due to the citizen complaints against anything that police do - on or off duty -), and the "higher standard" policy will doom them to losing their jobs at some point.
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In retrospect? Sometimes I feel that I never joined the police, I merely infiltrated...
riding fast with a pack of speed loving off duty cops?
