police car lights

Between the lines

police car lights

September 23, 2013  Driving back to Florida from Idaho “Primitive Skills Gathering”

So . . .

There I was, alone, singing talking communicating with myself as I pass through Oklahoma.  When all of a sudden flashing red and blue lights caught me off guard.  Dang, State Trooper.

What have I done?  Why am I getting pulled over? So I pulled over and waited . . .

I rolled down my left window and he knocks on my right.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”  said the Trooper.  “No sir.”  I replied.

“Have you been drinking”  “No sir”

“Are you tired”  “No sir”

“You crossed the solid white line on the right side of the road a few miles back” he explains.

He leaned into the front window and starting inspecting the inside of my truck.  He scanned the front seat.  Scanned the back seat.  My truck was filled with deer skin bags, antlers, horns, and all of my outdoor equipment.

“Please step out of the vehicle sir and step toward my vehicle”  At this point, I am nervous.  And like a penguin I waddle to the back of my truck.  Upon reaching the back of my truck, the officer escorted me to the back seat of his vehicle.  He then placed a hand on my head and one on my side and guided me into the back seat of the squad car.

I thought to myself.  I’ve seen this happen many times on TV but never thought it would happen to me.  I’m now sitting in the backseat of his car.  My back, not touching the back of the seat.  Eyes bugging out of my head.  Hands shaking.  Wanting to fill my pants.

Officer gets into the front seat.  Readjusted the rear view mirror so he could see me.  Removes his sun glasses, breathes heavily on his glasses and precedes to clean them.  Over and Over again.

He then asks me “Where are you coming from”  my response “Idaho”

He then starts typing into his computer, looking up once in awhile to gaze at me through the rear view mirror.

“You look like you are about to have a stroke” was his next comment.  As he continues to alternate between typing and staring at me.

After a few more moments of silence.  Typing, Staring.  Typing, Staring.   He inquired “Why were you in Idaho?”  “I attended RabbitStick which is a Primitive Skills Gathering”  “So, you learned how to skin an animal”  ‘Yes, sir” while my eyes are still bulging, hands shaking.  I proceed to explain that I learned how to skin, process the meat, and use the organs and large intestines to make sausage.

Another few minutes of silence.   He’s pondering and thinking.  Looking at me and staring.  He continues to type on his computer.

Then he catches my eye and says “So, if the government collapsed, you’d be the guy that I would have to go to to learn how to survive”  My response was, “Yea, that’s right”  Then he asked “what type of gun do you carry to kill animals when you’re in the back country?”  And to this I replied, “Trap snares and a bow.  But recently I learned how to use an atlatl.”  :What is an atlatl?”  So I explained, “an atlatl is a spear or long arrow on a lever that is thrown.  It is the advancement of the spear and can be thrown further and with more power.”

For the next 30 minutes we talked about primitive fire making, primitive shelters and all of the other things that I have learned not only to survive but to thrive in the wilderness.

After the conversation had finished, he walked over to the back right door to let me out.  He opened the door and told me to “try to keep it between the lines”.  Hey, “and have a nice day”.

He drove off before I was back inside my truck.


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