For those that do not know I traded my loud, smokey, and wicked fast '91 YZ250 dirt bike for a much more quiet & mellow '08 WR250R enduro that just happens to be my first street-legal bike ever.

I'm still on a temporary motorcycle permit so technically I'm not allowed to ride after dark. I needed to make a quick run to the corner store earlier tonight so I decided to take the (mud-covered) bike as there were still a few minutes of daylight left. I turned toward W.130th and a cop car was coming the other way. At the last second the cop suddenly swerved the car left directly into my path forcing me to lock up my brakes to avoid slamming into two tons worth of Crown Victoria. I threw up my hands in the international gesture of double-u tee eff?!!

Both cops got out and walked towards me. The female (driver's side) shouted "YOU GOTTA LICENSE FOR THAT?!!

"Uh... yeah..." I responded - and instantly produced all my official government-issued legal-type paperwork. "Shut it off and step off the bike," she demanded. I complied.

The cop on the passenger side: "I never saw a WR250 that was street legal."

"So?..." I respond.

He looked at the plate: "No way that came from the factory like that."

"They've been out for two model years now," I informed him. He read my plate number in over the radio. Of course it came back legit. He became noticeably agitated.

The female explained: "We have been getting complaints about dirt bikes around here, and you're riding a dirt bike, so that's why we stopped you." In Ohio they always have to give a reason.

Both cops started peppering me with questions. Where I live, where I'm going, etc. The female cop realized they have nothing on me and softened a bit. The other cop got more belligerent. He questioned the validity of my temp permit, my insurance, etc, but it became obvious he had nothing on me.

"If I catch you out here after dark I'm towing the bike." He said.

I turned toward the female cop. "What's with the attitude?" I asked.

The male cop became defensive. "Well, you're the one who threw up your hands when we pulled you over."

I asked how he might feel if some idiot pulled a "Starsky & Hutch" maneuver like this (gesturing to their giant Ford sedan parked sideways blocking the entire street and the growing lines of cars waiting to pass in each direction - wish I had a camera).

He handed me back my papers. "We're just trying to keep your neighborhood safe."

I literally laughed out loud. "Safe from what?"

The female cop interjected. "You don't care that there are dirt bikes in your neighborhood?"

(Remember, I'm standing next to my dirt bike) "No. Why should I?"

Now in retrospect I should have said I would rather have the teens in the area riding dirt bikes then the teens in my old 'hood who had little to do but ingest drugs, join gangs and shoot at each other. I specifically moved to this neighborhood because the teens here actually have things to do besides cause trouble. I should have also mentioned that the vast majority of the folks who live here feel just like I do, and only one or two people have a problem with dirt bikes & ATVs - and those one or two people are the ones lodging all of the complaints that these cops are forced to respond to.

But I didn't. If/when this happens again I will not fail to point this out.

Anyways, the female cop continued: "What if they were dealing drugs, would you care then?"

I was now howling with laughter: "You actually want to compare dealing drugs to dirt biking?" The male cop muttered something like "Don't bother - he's one of 'them'," or something conspiratorial like that. Then the female automaton blurted out the final howler of the day:

"You should be glad were chasing dirt bikers." I just shook my head, started my dirt bike and waited rather impatiently while they started the car (took a while ) and got that behemoth vehicle out of everybody's way. She waved to me as I rode past and I resisted the impulse to respond with a gesture of my own.

Someone please remind me: Why am I still in Cleveland?