As with any other day in this profession, one can never tell what we'll face once we get strapped in. There's been the times that getting our asses kicked by boredom was the recipe of the day and there's been times that chaos and confusion reign supreme. My first and only call of the day was the report of a mass murder in one of our towns. I arrive and talk to some kids at the reported scene of the crime, but they know nothing and I couldn't locate the person who report this heinous act. I could see that the suspects had left and my ambition to string crime scene tape around a bunch of chicken coops and their lifeless bodies and attempt to locate the canines responsible was somewhere around zero, so I left. I hit the office and find that my jackass neighbor has a little note from our local judge, along with a note from the sheriff stating that special emphasis should be placed on delivering this "note" to the jackass. Well who the hell am I to disappoint? So I head home, get a warm meal and off into the darkness I go to make my delivery. In no time at all, I find him and deliver the note, and of course the ride back to my "house" for him. He kindly informed me that if I didn't arrest everyone else involved in his transgressions, he would seek some sort of damages from my employer. Darn, I was shaking in my boots. I get him delivered to his new home and go do some stuff and off into the county I go. This night was proving to be one of those that I don't like. The sleep monster is calling me out pretty hard and there's not a soul to be seen for hours on end. Finally the radio crackles to life from one of the locals and the way he sounds and the information he is requesting, I figure I might as well go see what's happening. I show up and then my brother shows up and they get to searching. Seems like when the cop who made the stop initiated contact, he smelled an odor that eminates from a green, leafy substance consistant with being identified as marijuana. I do my duty and hang out with the driver. Now one has to have an open mind as we can learn things from the people we meet. For me, this was one of those occassions. In my year on the street and over 1200 hours of training, I had must of missed the class this guy spoke of. According to him, we cops have the ability, no matter how dark it is or just how much of our view is obstructed by stuff in the windows, we can tell when black people are in the vehicle. That was definately a new one on me. Heck, I even asked him how someone like me, at that time of night (midnight) and him driving the mid 80's fullsize Ford van with the little curtains on the back windows would be able to tell he was black. "You can just tell." I didn't have the heart to tell him that if it was me making the stop and if I was to profile everything I saw on the vehicle that I would think it would had been some recent guests of the Jerry Springer show that was pigment deficient. A few minutes go by and arrests are being made and my partner gets a 911 call with a report of someone banging on the doors. Well I have to break loose and the best part is that I'm only about 45 miles away from the call. I hop in and quickly get the afterburners going and I'm off to the races. One of the things that the better law enforcement training schools teach us is a little braking and steering manuever to avoid some sort of obstacle. It's a manuever that when first seen, looks harder accomplishing successfully; but in reality is easier to pull off when compared to trying to tell when Bill Clinton is lying. Within about the first five miles of my run, I'm well above 120 mph with the lights and siren going. Of course the siren is just about useless, but it's on for several reasons. As for the lights, if you never have been in my neck of the woods, it's not exactly windy, mountain roads out here. Even the half baked stoner who looks in their mirror every 5-10 minutes will see us coming. Well, I'm all about the gas pedal and before I know it, there's a black colored pickup with no taillights coming up in my windshield just a little faster than I would like it to. Then I realize my next problem, I have a car coming the other way. I slam on the brakes, thanking whoever came up with ABS because without them, my collision avoidance system would had locked the tires. The oncoming car clears and even with my extreme foot pressure on the brakes, I'm not gonna get slowed down enough to avoid this pickup so I whip out into the oncoming lane. Well my next obstacle has already arrived. The black pickup is being towed by what we call Mexican trains. These are Mexicans who go up north, buy a couple of barely drivable vehicles and transport them back to the Mexico. I see Hyundais towing stuff back, it's amazing. And these yahoos, they do the bare minimum to keep from getting stopped for some equipment violation. As I'm going around this first set that I almost plowed into, I noticed that instead of putting the lights on the pickup bed, they were on top of the cab, so there's a whole Ford Ranger bed painted black that cannot be seen. There's about four of these rigs in line and they finally started going to the shoulder since there was more oncoming traffic. Best part is that I estimated their speed somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 mph below the legal speed limit. I clear them and for the next 20 miles, I have an uneventful drive until I start coming into another town. It's here that I need to hit a backroad to miss town. I have to turn off right to hit the bypass and I have a lot of cars that I need to swoop around. I clear my first set and and the second set is in the left hand lane, which will make it easier on me; or so I thought. I definately was decelarating and brought it to about 70 and I am in the right lane for my turn. Well those in front of me in the left lane decide to yield to the right, which is right anyway you look at it, but of course they all slam on the brakes, requiring me to swerve around more vehicles................ I finally made it a total of 30 miles before my partner, who got to the call a few minutes earlier called me off. Even though I had another 15 miles to go with no traffic whatsoever, I was relieved. I pulled off to the side to unwind for a few minutes before I turned around. It amazes me at some of the stuff I see when those lights go on. I've had people stop in the middle of the road or just not pay attention. I've had people go "deer in the headlights" and seem like they are clueless to what is going on around them. Needless to say, making these hot calls or pursuing a drug dealer in a stolen car in California like traffic has been the most stressful. The driving is easy, but to anticipate what the other driver is going to do, with the limited amount of time to do it in with the higher speeds will really make the old butthole tight enough to make the prison pirates smile with glee.