Some years ago, we took the split window  VW panel south from Jackson Hole,
Wyoming,  for our normal springtime Baja trip.  On the way south, we swung
by So California to visit my brother's family, still living in my childhood
home in Belmont Shores..now an up-scale marina area and quite congested.  We
had our race bicycles along, so, having grown up on a bike in the area and
having an adventure-some and fit female cyclist as a companion, we decided
to go out on our bikes for some fun in the traffic..
  After doing the 'bike-messenger' thing up and down the main street,
dodging cars, ducking through alleys, jumping curbs and generally being 'not
grown-up' we were headed home across the bridge that spans the Long Beach
Marine Stadium.  The only hill we'd seen all day, so predictably, we had to
see how fast we could go...A 6- lane bridge full of traffic (that we passed
easily) with a signal at the bottom. When we were kids, we always just
turned right, then quick left onto the 'feeder' street that paralleled  the
main street and kept right on going...
  So, we did that and at the next signal we encounter a policeman with his
car stopped and light flashing...Huh?  He points right at us and motions us
to the curb...and tells us we'd been clocked at 52mph in a 25 zone!  Illegal
turn without a stop--no signals--passing on the right--blah blah blah!..
Wanted our drivers licenses...Huh?  To ride a bike?  Drivers license?..Speed
limit?---we played it dumb---Then Marie, my now S.O., plays the Wyoming Hick
Card.  (she happened to have her Wyoming license with her..it has that cool
outline of a cowboy on a bucking bronc as a background).."Well shucks,
officer, we're sorry, we come from Wyomin', and up there, if there ain't no
cows to harm, you kin do 'bout anythin' you want"...
  He let us go after shaking his head in disbelief..
  The old '57 36hp van worked great, btw, as usual..Slower than the bikes,
but ...
  Don Hanson