When we last saw our cavaliers, they were in headlong flight north on a twisty two-lane road with the CHP in hot pursuit. Â The chase resumes.
Suddenly a small road appeared, veering off to the right.  Neil, braking hard, just managed to make the turn, and disappeared off up the country lane.  The rest of us didn’t react fast enough, and we coursed on along the main road.
There had been no sign of the cruiser in our mirrors, and as we slowed for the stop sign in San Gregorio, we laughed and joked about our close shave.  We were wondering where Neil had got to, and if we would see him again that day.  In the parking lot across the road, we noticed two San Mateo County sheriff’s cars.  The deputies looked relaxed, and didn’t seem to be paying particular attention to us, so we assumed they were there on some other business.  Suddenly, with a roar and screeching brakes, the CHP cruiser skidded to a stop in front of us, blocking our path. The trooper jumped out, obviously furious, with his pistol drawn and pointed at us.  Barely controlling himself, he shouted at us to get off our bikes and across the road.  The deputies were leaning on their cruisers, looking like “WTF?â€
The state cop quickly enlisted the deputies in corralling us on one side of the parking lot.  I kept telling him to calm down – he was really livid.  This only pissed him off more, so finally I shut up.  And I realized that the joint I had stashed in the padding of my helmet threatened to make this much more than a routine traffic stop,  which it obviously wasn’t  already.  I managed to tickle the joint out with the hand that held the helmet, and tried to flick it unobtrusively into the tall grass.  Immediately one of the deputies strode towards me, and I was sure I was toast.  But he stopped a pace in front of me, and either out of mercy, or because he really hadn’t seen anything, he turned back to his cruiser.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/45044766@N03/4243463902/
