When we last left our hero, I was dodging post-wine tasting Buicks and Caddys in a hair-brained sprint to Los Angeles before the sun went down. My steed was a sparkle-blue 1981 Corvette with non-functioning headlights. Until this point, I’d been lollygagging along in the right lane. I assumed that the ‘Vette’s engine would crap-out on me if I gave it the boot. But the fear of getting caught with no lights– and then watching the DEA strip the car to the frame– forced my foot to the firewall.

Chevy small blocks are amazing. Yes, this C3 left the factory with just 190 horses. But the mini mill stumped-up 280 ft-lbs. of torque at 1600 rpm. Sadly, I can't tell you how much of a toll the intervening 27 years exacted on the Corvette’s performance– or how fast I was going. Not because the Nixonian speedometer tops out at 85 mph. Because it wasn't working. Regardless, y'all would have loved the burble.

Amazingly, the Corvette was behaving flawlessly. The engine was strong. Sure, you can get more handling from a photograph of a Miata. But around the gentle twists of Paso Robles, the car was aces. Braking? Not so much. And when you hit 'em the car shot left and then right. But I didn’t need any stinking brakes. I had no intention of stopping.

Suddenly, just north of Santa Barbara the right headlamp popped up. As fate would have it, I had left the lights on. You could almost hear the opening bars from Flight of the Valkyrie. "Come on, come on you little shit," I started screaming at the left lamp. "Pop!" Fifteen long, gut-twisting seconds later it did. Sure, I could have got more illumination sitting on the hood and holding a Zippo, but the lights were up! I was going to make it.

If you've never been through Santa Barbara, there are two things you need to know. 1) Eat at Taqueria Super Rica 2) Don't speed.

I've received six speeding tickets in my life. Three were in Santa Barbara. Case in point: as soon as I passed the sign welcoming me to Goleta (once again travelling at sane speeds) I saw a CHP officer climbing back on his hog and a blue BMW taking off from the shoulder. Then I saw a Highway Patrol car. Then another. I would have been toast. Or tased.

Now that I was back to cruising, I had some neurons to spare to contemplate the C3. What a brilliant little car. How did it know to pop those lights then and there? And maybe those neurons were cooked a little, but I realized what was going on. The Corvette knew.

This was it: the poor thing's swan song. It's death rattle. The last chance the tri-decade dog would have to be flogged California style. Sure, they have roads in Euroland. But 'Vettes — especially C3s – were built for the Golden State. Somehow, like a race horse about to be put out to stud, the Corvette knew. This was its victory lap.

Respect. I like how the Sting Ray makes you feel dangerous. And sleazy. It's akin to driving a van with a waterbed in back. You're a bad element; daughters' mothers know it. I can't even tell you how many times I looked in my rearview and caught a wife in the passenger seat checking me and my 'Vette out. Seriously, they couldn't take their eyes off the long, sleek, blue-speckled phallus.

I stopped at the beach to snap some photos and got mobbed by surfers. I've never heard "Dude!" so many times in my life.

I didn't dare turn the engine off, for fear of losing the headlights, but looking at the C3 nestled next to the Pacific Ocean, the zeitgeist of this machine became clear. It's the 70s, man. Sex couldn't kill you. Cocaine couldn't kill you. Rock and roll would never die, but you could get more coke and sex at the disco. The world has since moved on, but this Corvette? Still super awesome.

Before I got home, I stopped off for some tacos. The locals loved the 'Vette. "Dude, that is a beautiful car." Indeed, it is. The C3’s lines are timeless, as aesthetically spot on as anything from Italy or Britain from the 70s. And light years ahead of Japan and Germany.

In fact, I'm sorry my time with this C3 was so short. The seats are comfortable, the engine can get out of its own way and the looks– to paraphrase Vince Neil– can kill. With just a little TLC I could see owning this 'Vette big time. The C3’s currently parked in an undisclosed location, awaiting the Czech's further instructions. I bet I could make Mexico in a matter of hours.

[Read Pt. 1 of 440 Miles by clicking here.] 

By most accounts, I’m a good citizen. I work, I pay taxes, I keep my crimes to myself and I call my mother at least once a week. But I have a wild side. Like a vintage race, this part of my personality just begs to be taken out and let loose from time to time. I’m not going to tell you what I spent my first Bush tax rebate on. But I will tell you that when the $600 arrives in June, I will be at a $10/$20 No Limit table. So, when I was contacted by a guy in Prague to transport a 1981 Corvette from Oakland to a container ship in Los Angeles, I jumped at the chance. How could I lose?

It gets worse: The purchaser– whom we’ll call “Bob”– was actually a middle man for another Czech guy. The plan: wire transfer me the money for the merchandise, a one-way plane ticket and a small fee. You haven’t lived until you’re emailed your bank account info to a former communist country. I telephoned the seller to ask if he wanted a money order or a cashier’s check for the ‘Vette. “Cash,” was his not entirely unpredictable answer.

As I was unsure of the feasibility of a big cash withdrawal on a Saturday, I boarded a flight in Burbank with fifty-five $100 bills burning a worry-hole in my pocket.

Aside from a horrific speckled blue paint job, the Vette’s exterior looked ship shape. The interior was in remarkably good condition, too, with just the usual litany of malaise era Detroit bugaboos — shot HVAC, busted electric seats and a sun cracked dash. After handing over the bankroll, the seller fired her up.

As I headed out on the 880 towards the 101, a Led Zeppelin rock block started. Talk about apropos. “Hey hey mama said the way you move, going make you sweat, gonna make you groove!” Man, I was loving this. And felt just like a Jersey pot dealer. Hey, for all I knew, the gas tank was half-filled with smack.

By the time the last few chords of California ended, I was miserable. The turn signal lever had come off in my hand. There was no way to stop the hot air coming out of the vents, which meant I had to keep the windows down. On the freeway. The clutch literally has 14 inches of travel, and someone in the Czech Republic will be rebuilding a Chevy tranny sooner than later. Did I mention that the shocks are completely blown, and that the T-Tops sound as if they’re about to crack over every single road imperfection? Anyway…

My plan was to do the deed during daylight hours on a Saturday. I opted to take the slower, longer and more congested 101 because I’d be better off if the Corvette broke down. I also wanted to stop along the way and take some pretty pictures of the car along the coast, in a vineyard and maybe even parked in a mustard field.

Besides, the wind was a lot less annoying at 65 mph than at 80 mph. Also, why push it? The poor thing’s nearly as old as I am. All of that changed when I got to the Madonna Inn.

Figuring the garishness of the Corvette could only be matched by the surreal boorishness of the Inn, I stopped to snap some photos. And since C3s look so cool with their headlights up, I figured I’d pop ‘em. Only they wouldn’t pop. It was 3:00 pm, the day before daylight savings kicks in. I had 200 miles to go, and the last 30 of those were through Saturday night LA Traffic. I was now racing the sun.

Murliee Martin had been nice enough to check the Corvette out a few weeks before I showed up, so I called him. “There’s no headlights!” I shouted. “OK,” he replied. “You need to build up vacuum pressure. Take it up to 95 mph, shift into second, and let the engine haul you down to 40 mph.”

I’ve heard a lot of bad noises come out of cars in my day, but nothing quite like this. Imagine whacking a dozen circular saw blades with a crowbar. You get the idea, kinda.

I called Murilee back. “Nothing!” I screamed. “It’s probably a fuse,” he said. “You don’t have taillights either.”

So let’s recap: At this point I’m flying through wine country traffic without turn signals, headlights or taillights in a nearly 30-year-old example of the UAW’s finest work that’s titled to some guy in central Europe. And the gas tank’s (probably) stuffed with heroin. Yeah, this was big and dumb.

[Read 400 Miles Part 2 by clicking here . ] 

You’re fighting your speeding ticket in court. Take a lawyer. Yes, I know: a good local attorney will cost more than the fine. But the whole point of fighting is winning. As I explained in the last installment, the average citizen doesn’t have a hope in Hell of winning in traffic court without a lawyer. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present my case…

A lawyer knows the “system:” the rules AND the players. The defense counsel may be the “enemy,” but he’s the devil they know. The Clerk, Judge and cop can all relax; knowing the game will be played without rancor. For example, if you were a real jerk on the side of the road, the officer will tell me about it. But he won’t get mad at you again. He knows there won’t be any personal confrontation.

[Many states allow an attorney to appear for the client without the client present. So you can out-source the problem without lost time or wages.]

As Harold Hill pronounced in the Music Man, you gotta know the territory. And the Judge IS the territory. It may be a piercing glimpse into the obvious, but they are the one who will decide your fate.

Traffic court judges will vary from an ex-SCCA racer to the “little old lady with the crochet stuff on the back deck who blocks the left lane.” (True stories.) Most Judges are successful, goal-oriented people with substantial life experience. Respect is the currency of the courtroom. You can disagree without being disagreeable. Well, your lawyer can, ‘cause that’s what he does for a living.

A good local attorney will know many things you don’t– like which Judge or Prosecutor may be more sympathetic to your case. (And yes, a case can be “steered” towards a particular judge.) Or when the cop who wrote your ticket is off for their annual, month-long training. Most importantly, a lawyer knows what you are up against.

Most courts treat 70mph+ tickets as tax tickets, 80mph+ as “hey there boy,” and 90mph+ as “you are a road hazard, boy.” Triple digits earn you special treatment in every Court I attend. I have one Judge who will suspend your license for six months and impose a maximum fine.

A good traffic attorney will know what can be done with your offense. Most people hear from friends and relatives that your ticket will either “turn into a parking ticket” or “they will crucify you,” with little in between. When all the smoke settles, the short answer is that an attorney will get you the best deal in the House. It’s kind of like taking a big kid to a schoolyard fight– the fight will probably never happen and if it does, you won’t get hammered. Or hammered as badly.

If you retain an attorney specifically to go to trial, he or she will listen closely to your case. The attorney will know what a “direct case” sounds like. He will know if the officer missed something or lacks written proof. Technicalities R Us.

After the officer is done testifying, the attorney will cross examine the cop. If the attorney is prepared, experienced and knowledgeable, the process can take quite some time.

[If you think about it, five attorneys in a courtroom of 100 scheduled cases could take up an awful lot of time. In light of this fact, attorneys receive more consideration in ticket reductions. Courts are aware that retaining counsel costs money (and pretty much know who charges what in a given area). They respect that, though not officially.]

Your case depends almost entirely on this cross-examination. If the officer testifies perfectly, chances are the Judge (usually no jury) will sustain the charge. And you may be left wondering why you bothered hiring a lawyer in the first place. BUT…

Most cops do not enjoy this part of the job– for good reason. They know the stakes as much as you do. And they don’t like admitting (revealing?) their own incompetence. But police officers are not lawyers.

While they MAY know the exact legal requirements for a valid speeding ticket, they may not. No disrespect to the police, but given the huge number of tickets they write, they probably forgot something somewhere along the line. An experienced attorney has a far greater chance of making hay than a pro se litigant. An attorney will know what the police supposed to say, and when they miss it.

Again, this is where you win or lose. And if you’re going to fight, give yourself a fighting chance. Hire a lawyer. Fight the system yourself and you’ll be outmatched and outmaneuvered.

Ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case.  

OK, you got a speeding ticket. You didn’t ignore it (right answer). You didn’t pay it and take the hit to you insurance premium (also the right answer). You decided to go to court. If you were offered lowered points and fine by the court, you turned it down (potentially the wrong answer). In the penultimate part of our guide, I’m going to show you how a speeder who defends himself has a fool for a client.

The officer who wrote you up will state his name and be sworn in. The policeman will say he was working a certain shift in a given marked/unmarked patrol car. The car was equipped with a fully-functional [insert gadget name here] designed to time vehicular speed. At 10 am on Rt. 66 he saw a purple Porsche on a two-lane road, with a yellow divider. He visually estimated the speed to be 100 mph, plus or minus X mph.

[NB: a police officer’s visual speed estimate is legally admissible evidence. In The Empire State, the cop’s guesstimate/word is sufficient to uphold conviction. Most courts want a gadget reading for confirmation, purely as a practical matter.]

The officer will tell the court that he activated his speed timing device, which gave him a reading of 97 mph. Without losing sight of the vehicle, he then pulled out and pursued the perp (you). He pulled the car over at a certain location. He identified the driver by his State Photo ID. The officer will then relay whatever you said during the stop (the “do you know why I stopped you” question).

He will then state the location of the signs posting the legal speed limit, unless you have violated a state maximum (55mph in my New York patch). He will state his training, and reveal when it was last refreshed.

The cop will also tell the court how he set up his radar or laser, or produce a certificate of calibration for a speedometer (if paced). He’ll testify about tuning forks (radar) or internal self-tests (laser). Then, testifying that he was “satisfied that device X was performing according to manufacturers’ specifications,” he will close his case.

And now, it’s time for your cross-examination.

Most pro se defendants don’t channel Perry Mason, or even Denny Crane from Boston Legal. Instead, they launch into their “story:” a narrative account interspersed with “radar/laser sucks” information gleaned from the internet. When the Judge corrects them– “questions only, please,” they’re left feeling frustrated, flapping on the deck like a dying cod.

After a few easily parried questions to the cop– “no sir, there were no other cars in my radar” and “yes, you were the only purple Porsche on the road”– they’re sunk. 

Some defendants bring anti-radar/laser articles or papers to support their contention that the cop’s equipment and/or observations were inherently unreliable. These pieces of paper are routinely denied as not conforming to the “rules of evidence” (a full law school course), leaving the defendant flustered in their inability to land one of his or her cross examination “punches.”

In fact, the cop need only testify to the “direct case.” They will not give you the obvious leads you need to do a “wrong car” or “improperly setup radar” theory like you read on the internet. If the cop holds to the Direct Radar Case, for most straight speed cases, the result will be conviction. In New York City, for example, the Direct Radar Case is literally a “cookie cutter” dissertation which may or may not resemble your traffic stop.

The motorist is then convicted of the offense. I repeat, in the vast majority of speeding cases, motorists who defends themselves in court are convicted as a matter of course. It doesn’t matter how smart of savvy you are. You’re toast. Next case…

Many defendants feel extremely aggrieved by the process, and offended by the result. Unable to tell their side of the story, they conclude that the Judge was rude, insensitive and/or arrogant– even though the Judge was going by the Law, following the rules of evidence.

The motorist then pays the Clerk, complains to the Clerk about the Judge (usually her boss), and goes forth fuming– especially if he or she refused to plead to the “deal” offered two hours ago.

In the next and final installment of this series, I will make my case that anyone who wishes to fight a speeding ticket should hire a local attorney with a good track record and relevant experience. Yes, I know what you’re thinking: he would say that, wouldn’t he? If you choose to ignore a writer who’s seen literally thousands of speeding cases, that’s your prerogative.

But for now, my advice to [alleged] speeders is simple. Fight the ticket in every case. Take whatever deal you can get and/or hire an attorney. Period.

So, you got a speeding ticket. After the police officer leaves, there you are, with an official document in hand. You are unhappy. Your basic fight or flight or freeze response has you in its grip. You feel guilty, angry, shocked, insulted, humiliated, outraged or some combination thereof. Your heart rate is elevated; you’re stressing about money or points or the wife or the boss or just about everything. What happens next is up to you…

Secure in the knowledge that they haven’t had a ticket in ten years, some drivers figure they won’t get another ticket in another ten years. They pay the fine promptly and forget it. These folks are unhappy when the insurance bill, Abuser Fee, or Driver Responsibility Assessment comes in– at which point it’s usually too late to do a damn thing about it.

By the same token, some drivers simply ignore the ticket. They are even less happy when the suspension notice comes, or worse, when they’re pulled over again and [perhaps] taken to jail for “failed to answer ticket.” 

Some drivers talk to a few friends, troll the internet and discuss it (or NOT) with their significant other and decide to contest the ticket. They arm themselves with a smattering of speed detection device theory, a few legal buzzwords and maybe some information (often valid in some other jurisdiction). Delighted with the “fresh knowledge” that radar and laser guns are far from infallible, and that other speeders fought the law and the law lost, they head off to court.

[As a lawyer specializing in motoring offenses, my office motto is “never take your legal advice from real estate agents, police officers or the internet”-- present editorial excluded, of course. If you actually want to win your case, a local attorney with relevant experience is worth every penny.]

Some jurisdictions allow motorists to “call ahead” for a court date. Do not discuss the ticket with the Court Clerk. The Clerk’s heard every story in the history of the world ever. Beyond verification of your mailing address and scheduling your court date, he/she is not interested, and he/she has no authority to “make it go away” (the secret hope of every defendant in the world). Rudeness to a clerk will ensure that you get no consideration in scheduling preferences, should such a thing be available. 

Speeding and other motoring offenses are “processed” in many different ways around the country. In many cases, the alleged perpetrator goes to court, waits forever, pleads not guilty, and then waits another eternity for a trial date. The potential “deal” that you can make on a ticket also varies widely. Just because your buddy got a “parking ticket” reduction a few years ago in another town is meaningless to the Judge in YOUR town.

Some places, notably New York City Traffic Violations Bureau, refuse to deal at all. To put it kindly, they are relentlessly pro-prosecution. Other jurisdictions will favor the motorist, or at least give them a fair shake. As any good attorney will tell you, Judges also vary widely, from by-the-book/throw the book at you to “lenient.” Traffic court is no exception.

When Court day arrives, dress decently and leave your attitude at home. The correct mindset: assertive, not aggressive. You are now on government (a.k.a. geologic) time, so bring a book. Cell phones, iPods and Blackberries are frowned upon in most courtrooms; a ringing cell phone during a session can punt you to the last case of the day.  One of the basic rules of Civil Service: “We are here all day… YOU can be too!” Being polite and courteous counts in this arena.

Come to Court, sign in and wait. You may be called to discuss your case with the Prosecutor or Police officer who wrote you up. They may make you an offer (that you can refuse). If you’ve studied your state’s point system, you’ll have an idea what’s at stake.

The Judge and Prosecutor are not there to give you legal advice; don’t expect it and don't be disappointed if you don’t get it. In most places where negotiation is allowed, you’ll be offered something. I find that an attorney will normally be able to secure “the best deal in the house.” If you're a “frequent flier” or just don’t feel confident playing this game, again, a lawyer is a wise investment. 

At the time of the offer, do NOT launch into your carefully rehearsed and novel (to you) arguments as to why the ticket was in error/illegal. The police officer or Prosecutor in front of you has but one answer to any such suggestion: “I’ll mark you for trial at the end of the calendar.”

Next up, next Thursday: your day in court.

If there’s anything that makes you swear faster than passing a cop aiming a radar/laser gun at your car, it’s seeing a cop car looming in your rear view mirror. Either way, you’re busted. You’re about to play your part in a carefully scripted interchange with tax-funded law enforcement. How you play your role will have a big impact on what happens next. 

First and foremost, don’t act coy. If the blue lights are flashing on your behalf, put on your hazard lights immediately and pull over. You can turn a simple traffic violation into a misdemeanor easily by missing this one. Remember that the officer has one thought as he yanks your chain: he doesn’t want to get hurt. So pull over somewhere safe, preferably off the main road, but always into a well-lit, open space. 

When Officer Krupke pulls you over, he doesn’t know if you’re an honest citizen with a heavy foot or a third strike felon with a weapon. So do not reach into your glove box or your coat pocket for your license and registration before the policeman approaches. Lower your window, put both hands on the steering wheel, relax your shoulders and wait.

In most cases, the officer will call in your plate and his location before he leaves the car. He’ll watch you and your passengers (repeatedly) for “furtive movements.” The cop will approach you over your left shoulder. It’s tactical: he/she can see almost everything you do and can respond quickly if you're stupid/drugged enough to “try something." By the same psychological token, the bright lights are supposed to scare you and illuminate the inside of your car.

When the cop approaches, let him speak first. Most times, he’ll ask for your license and registration. Sometimes, he’ll ask you a direct question, to determine your state of mind and whether or not you’re drunk or drugged. If the officer asks you a simple question (“Do you know how fast you were going?”), provide him or her with a simple answer (“No, I’m sorry, I don’t”). Keep your voice level and your tone respectful.

After the initial interchange, you can proffer an excuse, if you so choose.  Don't schmooze; friendliness counts for nothing here. All the cop wants is his safety and your respect. So be direct, courteous and passive. Make your excuse simple (e.g. “I’m late to pick-up my kid from school”) and always start with an apology. Yes, an apology. But do not admit guilt. Just “I’m sorry.” Not, “I’m sorry I was speeding.” It’s a fine line. Don’t cross it.

Many times, perhaps even most times, the officer simply doesn’t want to hear your story. In some cases, the cop might even walk off while you’re in mid-sentence. Don’t lose your cool. These guys have heard it all before. They may have other things they want to do besides listen to you lie, prevaricate or explain your criminal behavior. 

Once the officer gets your papers, the officer will usually go back to the safety of his car (roadsides are dangerous for all) and run your specifics. He will check out your car from time to time, looking for those “furtive movements.” After the policeman establishes that your license and registration are valid, and that you and your vehicle aren’t wanted for any reason, he or she will cite you for your offense(s). 

If you were polite, sometimes there will be a small “roadside reduction” or even a warning instead of a ticket. If you were rude, there will be no mercy. If you were very rude, then there may be several citations. I can often tell by the set of tickets presented how my client acted towards the police officer on the roadside. In States like Virginia, where a ticket (and various inventive surcharges) can be mortgage money expensive, you’ll want any “discretion” the cop has used in your favor.

When the officer gives you the ticket (s), he or she will briefly engage you in conversation. If the officer gives you a lecture, or asks you a series of questions intended to rub your nose in your offense, just grin and bear it. Under no circumstances should you ever argue with the police. If the ticket’s written, the deal’s gone down. If you’ve been hard done by, you’ll get your day in court (and do NOT use that as a threat of any kind).

For most normal traffic stops, the police officer has made notes on the back of the ticket as to the particulars of the stop, and your attitude. He will have forgotten about you (usually) as soon as he’s back on the pavement at patrol speeds. Which leads us to the next part of our story… the Courthouse.

You are, of course, pleading Not Guilty.

Ever since the Model T hit the silver screen, evading the long arm of the law has been a cinematic theme. From the General Lee outrunning Boss Hogg, to Smokey being outwitted by Burt Reynolds' mustache, the public imagination has always associated fast cars with police pursuit. While the majority of motorists would never dream of trying to outrun the long arm of the law, soon, they won't have to. It'll be resting on their shoulder. Consider OnStar…  

OnStar is a telemetry system providing a central data bank with real-time data on virtually every system in your car, including GPS. OnStar's computer knows where you were, when you were there, and how fast you went. It knows if and when you applied the brakes, if and when the air bags deployed, and what speed you were going at the time. It knows if and when your car was serviced.

OnStar operators can determine if you have a passenger in the front seat (airbag detection). All interactions with OnStar's operators are automatically recorded (hence the commercials). By the same token, under certain conditions, OnStar can switch on your GM car's microphone remotely and record any and all sounds within the vehicle (i.e. conversations). But wait, there's more…  

As of 2009, customers who upgrade to OnStar's "Safe & Sound" plan automatically receive the "Stolen Vehicle Slowdown" service. (Yes, it's an "opt out" deal.) If the OnStar-equipped vehicle is reported stolen and law enforcement has "established a clear line of sight of the stolen vehicle," the police may ask OnStar to slow it down remotely.  

Many customers find OnStar immensely reassuring; their guardian e-angel. No question: OnStar has saved lives and provided its customers with valuable services. Otherwise, they wouldn't be in business. But what if…

The police are investigating a crime. They ask OnStar where your car was on a certain date and time, to corroborate an alibi. Or what if you're in a crash and the other guy's attorney would like to know how fast you were driving when you ran the red light? Would OnStar surrender the information? "OnStar is required to locate the car to comply with legal requirements, including valid court orders showing probable cause in criminal investigations." And OnStar may use gathered information to "protect the rights, property, or safety of you or others."

Imagine the following scenario. The FBI shows up at OnStar master command and tells them your car's been stolen by a terrorist, who may be using it to commit a crime at this very moment. Contacting the owner is out of the question; the owner may also be a terrorist. What does OnStar do? They cooperate with the FBI and give them everything they've got on your car. No warrant needed and no notification to you. Hell, you may not even have the service enabled. 

In other words, you not only have to trust OnStar to protect your privacy, you have to trust the police not to ask the questions in the first place.

The Constitution of the United States protects us from the heavy hand of government. However, when it comes to protection from private entities, it does little. Into this void, multiple privacy laws have entered, creating a farrago of local, state, and federal laws which provide limited and haphazard protection to citizens.  Whatever privacy protection these laws provide are usually nullified when companies violate them in "good faith" (e.g. while assisting the authorities.)

So who is going to stop the government from monitoring your car? The Bill of Rights protects you from an unreasonable search and seizure; the government can not take what belongs to you without a warrant. OnStar can owns the information they collect about your car. In short, there is nothing to stop the police or OnStar from using the information you paid for against you.

And the next step is even more insidious.  Imagine GPS speed limiters which only allow you to go the speed limit based upon a map uploaded into your car's navigation system. Now Sammy Hagar will only be driving 55 no matter how hard he stomps on the go pedal. This is the ultimate assault on pistonheads.  The only place where driving will be fun will be on the track– if OnStar and/or the car's manufacturer (e.g. the Japanese GT-R) let you.

There's only one sensible response to this trend: boycott vehicles equipped with OnStar, even if you don't sign up for the service. (Remember: it can be remotely enabled.) If customers actively avoid vehicles that spy on them, manufacturers will have to stop installing the monitoring software and hardware. And law enforcement agencies and prosecutors will have to get their information and apprehend criminals the old-fashioned way: through legally-sanctioned police work. In short, I don't buy OnStar, and neither should you.   

Back when Seagulls were flocking, a small electronics company called LTI was in grave danger of going broke. They had but one product: a speed detection device (a.k.a. gun) that used laser light instead of radio waves. LTI’s laser gun was a $3500 item. Police agencies could outfit three patrol cars with state-of-the-art radar detection devices for that kind of money. Laser guns were DOA. And then the lizard people stepped in.

In a brilliant merger of public relations and greed, GEICO bailed out LTI. The insurance company bought LTI’s newfangled laser guns. In ceremonies held in each State nationwide, GEICO donated a few laser systems to the State Police or large local agencies. This produced many, many photos of a GEICO rep giving a high tech laser gun to the head of the local and/or State police agency in many, many newspapers in the many states where GEICO does business. 

The handover was accompanied by the usual “speed kills” propaganda. As the nationwide 55mph speed limit was still the federal law, GEICO’s lazy-journalist press release got plenty of play. The PR stunt also put “free samples” of LTI’s laser guns into the hands of the agencies who would have never bought them in the first place. Once the cops gained operational experience with the new gadget, once the revenues started rolling in, laser guns became all the rage. 

GEICO also banked big bucks with this initiative. The laser-wielding cops ticketed their policy holders. The resulting insurance surcharges more than paid for the cost of donating the laser guns. Brilliant! Well not entirely, on a whole range of levels.

Laser speed detection is an inherently problematic process. Calibration is the biggest “issue.” When police initially set up and/or test the accuracy of a given radar detection device, they use a tuning fork. This provides external verification that the radar unit is working properly. Police laser guns have no such external testing methodology. In fact, the laser guns use a proprietary algorithm to determine a vehicle’s speed. This they will NOT divulge in Court; apparently, it’s not patentable. 

As strange as it sounds, a laser gun can only verify its own accuracy. Courts are not big fans of self-verifying devices, which is why Breathalyzers use an ampule of known alcohol for calibration. Even so, your legal guardians made an exception on your behalf. New Jersey uses other tests to allow a calibration “work around.” Most other states have either passed a law allowing laser readings, or just turn a blind eye to this possible objection.

Over time, police agencies acclimated to laser and made their legislative peace. The guns are now a part of most states' speed detection arsenal. And yet, laser hasn’t replaced radar, for one simple reason: laser is a bitch.

For one thing, laser doesn’t work on the move. Police have grown accustomed to using radar to monitor oncoming or distant traffic to detect and apprehend speeders in the course of other activities. There is no such thing as a patrol car-mounted laser gun; nor can there be, given the necessity of aiming a pinpoint beam of light.

This highlights another limitation: the laser gun’s laser beam must be shot directly at a car's front plate to create a valid reading. So cops can’t stuff their patrol car behind a bush, wait for a hapless/dangerous motorist to go by, and then hit them with a beam (the parallax error in this case underestimates speed). Police can fire the laser gun out of the window of a stationary cruiser, but that’s only in good weather. And anyway, then they’re sitting in a billboard labeled “POLICE.” 

Accuracy is another stumbling block. Those of you familiar with handguns know how tough it is to group your shots. Laser is the same way. What’s more, most laser “shots” are initiated as far away from the target vehicle as possible. Most laser sightings are taken from around a thousand feet away (beyond that it is hard to get a reflection without a tripod mount). The beam is small; it’s quite easy to miss an offending vehicle, or, God forbid, mistake one for another.  The majority of laser arrests need multiple shots before a reflection can be read, which is why a detector can sometimes save you.

Lastly, laser is also fallible. The guns only work on front plates. On states where front plates are not legally required, many motorists don’t have them (imagine that). Also, as it would be pretty hard to restrict a segment of the light spectrum for police use, most states allow laser jamming; devices which react to a weak laser signal by sending out a stronger one to trick or confuse the police gun.

In short, laser guns are highly effective when used properly, but standard issue radar guns will still be the police officer’s speed detection device of first resort. 

On January 2, 1974, President Richard M. Nixon signed the Emergency Highway Energy Conservation Act. A provision of the Act imposed a new, national, 55 mph maximum speed limit. Overnight, the United States had a massive speeding “problem.” Within weeks, the feds gave huge amounts of money to police forces around the country to purchase radar guns. The speeding ticket, always a reliable cash cow for local governments, became a cash herd.

In response, the Fuzzbuster. The first commercial radar detector was a simple receiving unit. It picked up the high power continuous transmission of the early X-band police radar guns and sounded an alarm. Depending on the speed of the Fuzzbuster-equipped motorist, he or she had at least a half to a quarter mile before the signal was strong enough to bounce back to the police and provide a reading. 

Escort tendered the next major advance. The old school black box Escort was a quantum leap in quality: the first superhetrodyne radar receiver commonly available. The Escort’s X-band detection distance was twice that of the Fuzzbuster. Equally important, the Escort also picked-up K-Band radar gun signals, emitted by the cutting edge revenue collection device of the early 80’s. 

Once the police side switched to “instant on” radar guns, the game changed again. Detectors were no longer looking for a strong beam (think a set of xenon headlights shining down a dark highway). They were now trying to detect a child’s flashlight being turned on and off at random, during the day. Since a radar detector is essentially nothing more or less than a scanner, it has to cover the entire band over and over, looking for those wisps of radar. 

To find those tiny wisps of K-band emissions, a device needs some serious microprocessing horsepower. That kind of microwave technology isn't cheap. Radar detector buyers looking for something more than a dashtop ornament that provides a false sense of security must now go to the top of a manufacturer’s line for electronic satisfaction.

Still, many folks held onto their Fuzzbusters, classic black box Escorts and later grey metal Passports. While they’re still great for detecting police radar guns operating on the X and K-band radar signal, they’re blind to the latest Ka-band police technology. I still see these on dashboards in New York Courts every week, in a state where 95 percent of the police radar systems run on the Ka-band.

I’m often asked “why can’t I just buy a radar jammer?” There are two stumbling blocks: money and the Federal Communications Commission (FCC).

Any item which transmits a radio signal falls under the FCC’s purview. To properly jam police radar unit, a jammer needs to receive a signal, “read it” and fire back a signal strong enough to overwhelm the radar gun– or vary the returning signal’s frequency slightly to confuse the police radar gun’s computer. The military has some fantastic devices for fighter planes that do all this, at military price points. 

Even assuming you could create a usable civilian unit, the FCC would frown upon this endeavor in a most emphatic way. If they caught wind of even a single unit, they’d send you a “Notice of Liability” reminding you (with a huge fine) that you’re not allowed to jam any licensed service. (That's why Cell Phone jammers can't be sold in the US.) So back to detectors…

None of today’s radar detector can warn you of an “instant-on” police radar signal if you’re the first one through the trap. A detector is a radio receiver, no more, no less. Ka-band frequencies are tricky to detect. The frequencies used by many police radar guns for Ka-band are on the exact same frequency that some radar detectors transmit.

In traffic, surrounded by other cars, radar detectors are prone to a “Ka-false,” triggered by another radar detector. To keep users sane, detector makers will “notch out” that specific frequency– which is why police radar makers seek to transmit there. The expensive detectors have the computer power to figure out this riddle, which is why the $69 detector is more dangerous than nothing at all.

None of today’s most sophisticated radar detectors can detect all police radar guns all of the time in all situations, and do so with enough alacrity that the driver can check their speed before the police do. A safe driver will always drive only as fast as conditions allow, and use their cranium’s computing power (including memory) to avoid inadvertent speeding.

That said, a high-powered radar detector is a valuable tool for the serious driver with a lot of exposure time. It’s a little extra insurance, but, again, it’s not a free pass. Buy the best detector you can afford, but don’t change your driving style based on the box.

[Casey W. Raskob, Esq. is a NY-based lawyer who runs speedlaw.net]

Is there anything the average motorist hates more than police radar? While some citizens see radar “guns” and those who wield them as a necessary evil– police surveillance that saves lives– most drivers view the technology as a “sin tax,” an ineffective safety device, a waste of police resources, an invasion of privacy and/or a major violation of the Constitutional prohibition against “indiscriminate search.” While the battle for and against police radar (and now laser) rages on, TTAC has invited me to discuss the technology and your legal rights. We begin with some deep background.

Back in the early 60’s, police measured driver’s speed via “S-band” radar. These early devices used a huge antenna mounted on a tripod. It printed a paper read out on a rolling sheet of paper, like a lie detector. The S-band radar unit was a cumbersome contraption that only worked in good weather. And keeping the analogue tubes running was a tricky business– never mind trying to get the waves to live at microwave frequencies. Although the system [eventually] offered its police practitioners a reasonable ROI, it was a major PITA.

With the advent of transistors, radar moved to the 10 Ghz “X-band.” New solid state devices assured greater frequency stability at higher frequencies. The antennas got smaller. For the first time, police could mount a radar device on their car– although they were still restricted to continuous transmission from a stationary position.

Early Escort radar detectors worked a treat, picking-up the X-band signal a mile or more before it had the strength to bounce back to its police handler. And there were few, if any, radar “falses” from door openers. The detection – detector arms race began.

The next advance on the police side: a 24 Ghz “K-band” device with a smaller antenna with a new mode: ”instant on.” This feature made the radar detector less useful (it still triggered when someone up ahead was zapped). K-band radar guns were very expensive when they first appeared– so the older X-band guns were also rigged for “instant on.”

The next advancement: moving mode. For the first time, a radar device could separate the primary reflection (ground speed) from the second reflection (target speed). (This development mystifies a lot of drivers, amazed that the cop “was coming from the opposite direction.”) With the smaller. squad car-borne K-band antenna, any police car was a potential "threat" to a speeding driver. The modern radar enforcement era was born.

Today’s state-of-the-art radar devices have moved still further up in frequency, to the 34-36 Ghz Ka-band. (The Ka band is much wider than X or K, making the radar detector’s job harder, as it’s really just a glorified scanner.) Police radar antennas have miniaturized to the point where they’re hand-held devices with soda can-sized apertures. The entire speed detection device is now small enough to permanently mount in a squad car; many police departments use front AND rear antennas.

Whereas the primitive radars of the 70’s could pick out target vs. ground speed as they were going in opposite directions, today’s radars can pick out a target going in the same direction as the patrol car. State laws vary in whether or not this mode has “judicial notice” (i.e. would be accepted in a Court with the usual minimal Police testimony). But the bottom line remains the same: a police car behind you or in front of you can now get a reading. This mode is less frequently used, but it’s increasing, as the older units are retired and new ones enter active duty.

Police radar devices are sold through a public bidding process at the State level. Your local law enforcement agencies often buy at the negotiated State Police price. Many agencies, though, do not. If your state does not have an “official” radar device, you are facing a variety of threats. 

Here in New York, the State Police use a state-of-the-art Ka-band radar gun called (of course) the Stalker. Local agencies still have a lot of the Kustom Signals KR series K-band units; they have less money than the State and the units last a bit longer in regular use. Ye Olde X-band is mostly gone; the units have obsoleted out.

The newer radar units have variable power outputs, so that the officer can make the unit’s “zone of influence” smaller. Many of them allow the relevant law enforcement agency to lock out certain functions (e.g. the moving modes) if the law in their state does not support their use.

Fortunately, most police are not gadget geeks. They tend to run their radar guns in full power mode, in standard stationary or “instant on” modes.  Still, there's never a shortage of sheep to shear. Speaking of which, next week’s installment will focus on countermeasures– sorry, effective ways to check your speed before you get a ticket. 

[Casey W. Raskob, Esq. is a NY-based lawyer who runs speedlaw.net]