Ooooooh, I'm in Hot Pursuit!!!

Some time back, I was involved in a little vehicle pursuit. It involved a stolen motorcycle, which I did not know was stolen at the time.

If memory serves me correctly, it was about 0130 hours. There I was, driving along and minding my own damned business, when a motorcycle blew a stop sign and crossed directly across my path. I, of course, said "Oh, HELL no" and followed the bike.

I caught up in less than a block and noticed the lack of a license plate on the motorcycle. I figured it was just some drunk or dumb rider who felt he didn't need to stop for the stop sign. Soon as I hit my lights he looked over his shoulder at me. Next thing I knew I was looking at a dust cloud where there used to be a motorcycle. After a couple seconds I caught back up to him and the chase was on.

He was running about 50 on a residential street, and I was having no difficulty keeping up. Not the most exciting motorcycle chase I've been involved in. At one point he blacked out and ran up onto the sidewalk for about a block. I never did figure that one out.

I ended up chasing him about four blocks before he crashed into a curb and foot bailed. I had a slight advantage over him because he still had his helmet on. It's kind of a bitch to run with a helmet causing your head to bob around. Don't ask me how I know. His advantage, as I discovered later, was that he was high on methamphetamine.

We ran up the block a few houses and I was keeping up with him, if not necessarily catching up. I could hear the cavalry coming, sirens a'wailing, and I knew I just had to keep this knucklehead in sight for another minute or so. He had about a fifty foot lead on me when he ducked between the third and fourth house in the block.

I'm not one to run blindly into the yard a suspect just ran into, so I cautiously pointed my gun and flashlight into the side yard. As I did so I heard him hitting fences and going back the way we had just come from. I paralleled him down the block, him in the back yards and me in the front yards. After two fences I didn't hear him anymore. I was just about to check the last back yard when I heard someone down the block yelling "Officer! He's over here!"

I ran down around the corner in time to see a bus driver pointing in the general direction of my knucklehead, who was running down into a shopping center behind the houses. He had ditched his helmet, but I had a bigger advantage now because the troops were showing up.

I chased him on foot through a repair shop lot and back into the shopping center. He finally found himself cornered in a loading dock, and the only way he was getting out was to give himself up, or go through me.

I am not a small person, and he wisely selected the former option. I had him prone himself out, then my partner showed up and we took the errant motorcyclist into custody. He was a little bloody from his encounter with the curb, and his jacket was a little tattered from passing over a number of wooden fences, but otherwise he was fine.

As I returned to my patrol car with my prize in tow, I heard a woman's voice from a nearby front window.

"Is he okay?"

Wait. Hold on just a cotton pickin' second. You're asking if the bad guy is okay? He ran from me, on a stolen motorcycle, under the influence of drugs, with burglary tools on his person, and assorted other illegal items and activities, and you want to know how HE's doing? Well, hell. Let's just kick him loose and you can take him in for the night. When you wake up in the morning.... No, wait. IF you wake up in the morning, don't call me to report the theft of your possessions.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm just outstanding." I replied. "Thank you for asking."