KLF
06-27-2002, 09:15 PM
Hey Butch: You don't know me, we've never met, but I only know of you and your antics in the Cruiser kingdom. This is a true story that I swear happened to me recently. Sorry if it's kinda long, but it's worth reading... (I hope)
Several weeks ago I volunteered to fly down to Austin TX and drive an FJ62 home to Vermont for a guy that I never met on the 3FE list. What the heck, I love road trips and had the time. I arrived in Austin airport around 10:30 pm on a Saturday night. Met the seller for the first time at the Arrivals area near baggage claim, said hello and goodbye, I jumped in the truck and started driving. My goal was to get east of Dallas before getting some sleep in the Toyota Hilton. I had to be in Knoxville TN by Sunday evening to pick up a buddy that needed a ride to Buffalo after attending GSMTR.
Around 2:30 am, I was near Greenville TX on Rt 30, windows down, CD playing, enjoying the night air, truck drove great. Drove past a cop on the side of the road, but I knew I was cool, as I was keeping it just under the limit. Uh ohhh... he's pulling out to catch me. Oh crap, on came the blue lights.
Apparently the license plate lights we not functional, I never thought to check them. I handed him my license and the truck registration, but obviously the names were different. Cop was having a hard time believing I was driving a truck 2400 miles to VT for someone I had never met. So, I got to stand behind his patrol car and watch him search the truck, PRAYING he didn't find anything. Fortunately, it was clean.
He shakes my hand, thanks me for being so cooperative. So we start chatting, he was actually a nice fellow. I told him rust-free Land Cruisers are impossible to find in New England. Then he says "hey, I know this guy that's realy into these older Land Cruisers... sells tires I think... his last name is Baker".
"Oh, you mean Butch Baker! Yeah, his daughter has an FJ40 with zebra stripes on it, right? They call it the Zebranator!"
Big smile on his face. Suddenly he knew that I WAS crazy enough to do such a thing, and wasn't a drug smuggler after all. He wished me luck in the rest of the journey, showed me a few truck stops where I might get some sleep.
So, although you don't know it, you helped keep me out of trouble on a lonely stretch of Texas interstate. Thanks, man. :beer:
Several weeks ago I volunteered to fly down to Austin TX and drive an FJ62 home to Vermont for a guy that I never met on the 3FE list. What the heck, I love road trips and had the time. I arrived in Austin airport around 10:30 pm on a Saturday night. Met the seller for the first time at the Arrivals area near baggage claim, said hello and goodbye, I jumped in the truck and started driving. My goal was to get east of Dallas before getting some sleep in the Toyota Hilton. I had to be in Knoxville TN by Sunday evening to pick up a buddy that needed a ride to Buffalo after attending GSMTR.
Around 2:30 am, I was near Greenville TX on Rt 30, windows down, CD playing, enjoying the night air, truck drove great. Drove past a cop on the side of the road, but I knew I was cool, as I was keeping it just under the limit. Uh ohhh... he's pulling out to catch me. Oh crap, on came the blue lights.
Apparently the license plate lights we not functional, I never thought to check them. I handed him my license and the truck registration, but obviously the names were different. Cop was having a hard time believing I was driving a truck 2400 miles to VT for someone I had never met. So, I got to stand behind his patrol car and watch him search the truck, PRAYING he didn't find anything. Fortunately, it was clean.
He shakes my hand, thanks me for being so cooperative. So we start chatting, he was actually a nice fellow. I told him rust-free Land Cruisers are impossible to find in New England. Then he says "hey, I know this guy that's realy into these older Land Cruisers... sells tires I think... his last name is Baker".
"Oh, you mean Butch Baker! Yeah, his daughter has an FJ40 with zebra stripes on it, right? They call it the Zebranator!"
Big smile on his face. Suddenly he knew that I WAS crazy enough to do such a thing, and wasn't a drug smuggler after all. He wished me luck in the rest of the journey, showed me a few truck stops where I might get some sleep.
So, although you don't know it, you helped keep me out of trouble on a lonely stretch of Texas interstate. Thanks, man. :beer: