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Saturday, December 14, 2019 @ 4:19 pm

"Just head onto Route 301," he said.

It seemed to be plausible solution to our dilemma.
The radio was telling us that I-75 was backed up for miles due to a
two lane, five care accident. My college boyfriend Jackson and I were driving to Tampa, FL.
Jackson believed himself to be "King of the Road". But
it was my car and I insisted on driving. So he settled for navigation. The navigator was telling me
to take Route 301. It was a little bit out of our way but it was traffic free.
It would save us tons of time. My best friend Rachel and Jackson's best friend
Jesse were also with us and they agreed on the
plan. I was convinced so I steered the car toward our new destination.

I later found out that there is a 20 mile stretch of road on Route 301 that
has all the characteristics of an old fashioned speed trap.
The three towns that occupy this stretch of road are called
Lawtey, Hampton, and Waldo. With populations that barely graze 1,
000, one would think these places would be harmless. They are not.
They should be avoided at all costs. Let me preface my story by stating
that Lawtey, Florida gets 73% of its annual revenue from speeding tickets.

"This is a pretty smooth ride, huh?" Jackson was saying as
we cruised freely down Route 301. All the windows in the car were
open and a summer breeze was roaring through the car
as we travelled the empty road at a consistent 55 mph. Actually, smooth is not the right word.

Perhaps "easy" is a better word. Perhaps, too easy.

And then suddenly the flash of the blue and red lights and the roar of
the sirens. And it was all over.

"Well now, where are all you kids coming from?" the Lawtey police officer asked.
He seemed genuinely interested and he smiled kindly at us as he wrote up our ticket.

"Emory University!" he said. "Well it looks like I have a car full of brainiacs! Make sure you kids pay attention to the speed limits around here. Have a nice trip!" Once
again the officer flashed us his sweet smile and sauntered over
to his car which proudly sported the Lawtey Police Department's insignia.

"Well, Jackson," I said as I slowly pulled back onto the empty highway, "you owe me fifty-five bucks."

And that's how we got ticket number one. Unfortunately ticket
number two was not acquired so painlessly.

This time we were driving through Hampton, Florida. After much debating
we decided to continue cautiously down Route 301.
I was a little skeptical, but I relented when Jackson said that he
would drive. "And I promise," he declared, "to stay at 45 mph."

Though Jackson was able to keep his promise we did not notice that the Hampton speed
limit was 35 mph.

"Please step out of the car, son," croaked the oversized cop that pulled Jackson over.
Jackson obliged and slowly exited the vehicle. Jackson is a scrawny guy and at 5'10" he seemed like nine year old next to the three hundred pound cop that pulled us over. I didn't blame the cop for searching Jackson. He dresses like a bum, literally, and he never brushes his hair. I groaned as the cop escorted Jackson to the trunk of the car. I knew what he would find back there. We had a couple of beers on the beach near Jacksonville yesterday. The empty cans had be stuffed in the trunk and left there. I wasn't sure if the burly cop would take any nonsense. Though none of us had had anything to drink today, I was unsure if Jackson could play off the part of a dutiful citizen.

However he passed his breathalyzer with flying colors. We were issued another $55 speeding ticket and half-an-hour later we were sent on our way.

"We have to get out off of this highway!" I declared as Jackson finally settled safely back into my Volvo.

"Yeah, no kidding!" Jackson said as he sped down the road.

"Jackson slow, down, we're not out of the woods yet!"

"We only have a few miles to go until we get back to I-75.
We'll be fine!" he insisted.

We were not fine. In Waldo, Florida we were issued one last ticket for driving fifteen miles over the speed limit.

One hundred and sixty five dollars and two and a half hours later we were finally off of that twenty-mile stretch of terror. As we veered back onto I-75 all four of us sighed in relief as we saw that huge signs indicating that Tampa Florida was not far away. I-75 was completely empty when we got back on. The earlier accident had been cleared and it was smooth driving (and no tickets) for the rest of the trip.

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