Besides racing Shetland’s at Paleface and eating lots of BBQ at the old Paleface Store, I have one other story that connects to Paleface.
Kenny and I together with our wives were heading to Luling for our great grandmother Purcell’s birthday celebration on a Sunday morning. I was driving Madeline’s 1974 Pontiac Granville. This incident happened in 1975 or 1976, given the car we were in.
Most likely I was exceeding the speed limit. Oh of course I was. They had reduced the speed limit to a maximum of 55 MPH, so almost everyone broke the speed limit. How were you going to drive 55 everywhere?
As we approached the long straight stretch down by the Paleface Ranch main ranch house, there was a line of cars that I was approaching at about twice their speed limit. I had every indication that I’d overtake the whole bunch before I got to the no passing double stripe. I was almost correct.
If not for the DPS Highway Patrolman coming from the other way at a high rate of speed my calculations would have been spot on. It caused the Highway Patrolman to get over on the shoulder of the highway. I always contending that his movements were a bit exaggerated. With a little nerve he could have stayed his course and everything would have been fine.
I guess I don’t have to tell you, but he found it necessary to turn around and come back and stop me. Of course I was a way ahead of him and pulled off before he had time to much more than turn around. By that time in my life I’d already been through that song and dance just a few times.
Immediately when he walked up to the car window he started blowing the whole thing completely out of proportion, with claims that I had ran him off the highway and such stuff as that. At first I pointed out that getting on the shoulder was slightly different than being run off of the highway.
First one thing then the other and I decided it was time for me to just shut up. After a good little bit of being scolded, I decided to plea bargain with him a little.
I told him if he would write me a ticket that I’d get my wife to drive the rest of the way to where we were going and back home again.
I think he had talked all he needed to because about that time he went to the car and got his ticket book and wrote me a couple of tickets and saw that Madeline got out and came around and switched places with me.
My best advise is if you ever run anyone off the road make sure it’s not a highway patrolman.
One thought on “The Highway Patrolman At Paleface Park”
I will take note of your concluding advice, using a wide-tipped marker and underlining it twice.
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