Speeding in Montana -- 

It's a rather long story, so if you are the impatient type, you can bail out anytime.  I won't be offended.

I worked in Billings, Montana from early 1970 to October of 1973.  So I got used to the Montana highways, and the no-speed-limit daytime driving.  When I moved to Boise,  Idaho in late 1973, I worked for a radio station that was co-owned with the station in Dillon, Montana.  Part of my engineer work included a monthly trip to Dillon to take care of maintenance at the Dillon station.

Within the first year in Boise, I aquired a new vehicle, and it was properly registered in Idaho.  However, being the procrastinator that I am, I did not change my driver's license for over a year after moving.

The vehicle I was driving was a 1973 Ford Bronco.  The speedometer in it only went to 80 mph, but on the open road, I often drove with the needle well past 80 (somewhere between the turn-signal arrows).  I had timed my speed with the mile markers, so I know that this equated to somewhere between 90 and 95 mph.

Now if you recall, or know your history, it was around that time the Federal Government, in its infinite wisdom, decided we needed to save gas by driving only 55 mph.  Montana resented this kind of federal control, so instead of issuing speeding tickets, they issued a citation for "mis-use of a natural resource", which was a $5.00 fine, and it did not go on your driving record.   You could rack up as many of these citations as you had $5 bills.  You paid it on the spot, and went on your way.

Now, Montana did have a 55 mile speed limit at night.  So, after dark, you could be issued a ticket that would have consequences on your driving record.

Now we are ready for the actual story.  It was about mid-October 1974 and I was driving out of Dillon about 9:30 at night.  So, technically, there was a 55 mph speed limit.  There was no traffic to speak of, and I was on a nice divided highway, going my bat-out-hell speed of about 90 - 95 mph.  I didn't think too much of it as I approached and passed a white car (I went past it like it was parked!) until as I passed, I noticed the lights on top.   I had just blown past a Montana State Cop.

Well, I figured I was totally done for.  I didn't even wait for him to hit his lights, I just took my foot off the gas, and pulled over.  And, sure enough, on came the lights, and he pulls up behind me.  I still remember his name.  It was officer Brown.  Anyway, he comes to my window, and smiling, he asks me how fast I was going.  Now I'm stuck.  I didn't want to say I was going the speed limit and look really stupid by telling a really obvious lie, but I didn't want to say I was going 95 either.  So, I said, " I'm really not sure.  Last time I checked the speedometer it was a little over 70, and to be honest, I was watching the road and not the speedometer.  It was probably a little faster than when I last looked. "

He commented that he hadn't been able to actually clock my speed, but knew I was going way over the limit.  And, due to my speed, he would have had to pull me over.  Primarily, he said, he wanted to be sure I hadn't been drinking, because at that speed, I would have been really dangerous if I was drunk.  At this point he asks for my driver's license, and my registration.  Here is where he sees I am driving an Idaho vehicle that I have owned for several months, but have a Montana driver's license.  A conversation ensues where we talk about my having lived in Montana, later moved to Idaho, but drive to Dillon to work on the radio station.  Yeah, I should have changed my licesnse, but I hadn't gotten around to it.   We probably talked for 10 or more minutes about Montana highways, my work, and lots of other stuff that happened to seem interesting at the time.

Finally, he says, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do.  I need to cite you for something, so I'll give you a daytime ticket since you going over the Federal limit of 55.  It won't go on your record that way."   He gives me the ticket, I give him the five bucks, and he starts back to his car.  About 3 or 4 steps he turns around, comes back to my window and says, " By the way, there aren't any other cops between here and Idaho, and I won't follow you."

Officer Brown earned my respect that night.   And, I while I didn't slow all the way down to 55, I did keep it under 80 the rest of the way to Idaho.