Off The Island With Them!

Yesterday I wrote about cops who break the law--specifically, one that forbids cycling on the sidewalks of Denver.  I also mentioned that those same officers routinely overlook violations of said statute.

Now, to balance things out, I'm going to write about two constables who broke a law pertaining to cycling--with less reason than their peers in the Mile High City--and were arrested for it.

Actually, the law isn't about bicycles specifically.  But, given its locale, it has special resonance for cyclists and makes the policemen's offence all the more egregious.

Lt. Andrew Longuski and Detective Sgt. Derrick Jordan work in the Polygraph Section of of the Michigan State Police's Biometrics and Identification Division.  Now, if any two officers know about your chances of getting busted if you commit a crime, I would expect them to be the ones.

They were attending a training conference on the Great Lake State's Upper Peninsula when they decided to go for a joyride on Mackinac Island.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, motorized vehicles are not allowed on the island, so people usually get around on foot or by bicycle.  And some of those bikes are tandems.  Thus, two guys on a bike built for one would--and, in their case, did--attract attention.

That, and the fact that the bike had a pink seat.  Longuski pulled up to Jordan and offered to let him ride with him to a watering hole. 

Now, even though a couple of cops on a bike built for one raised a few eyebrows, it probably wouldn't have gotten them in trouble had the bike not belonged to either Longuski or Jordan.  


Apparently, the cops-turned-perps didn't realize that the offenses for which officers of the law cannot be indicted do not include taking a bike that is not one's own--especially in a place like Mackinac Island.  Oh, and immunity doesn't extend to Disorderly Conduct, a charge that most likely stemmed from their heated exchange between them and the Island's law enforcement officers.  

Both officers pleaded "not guilty" at their arraignments on 30 May and were released on bond.  They are due back in court in July and face up to 93 days in jail in addition to fines.

Hmm...This is an interesting "not guilty" plea from a couple of polygraph experts.  Perhaps the truth is subjective, after all.

Mackinac Island, Somewhere In Time

What do these images have in common?

Well, in both photos, people are on bicycles.  But there doesn't seem to be much else in common, right?

It's fairly obvious that the second photo was taken more than a century after the first. But they were taken in the same place--or the same locale, anyway.

I'm talking about Mackinac Island, Michigan.  It's in Lake Huron, between the state's Upper and Lower Peninsula.  

Motorized vehicles have been banned on the island since 1898.  The only exceptions are emergency vehicles (owned by the city that shares the name with the island), motorized wheelchairs and golf carts, which cannot be operated outside of the golf course.  Also, snowmobiles are permitted in winter.

In the 2010 Census, the Island had 492 permanent residents.  However, during the peak tourist season (summer), there are as many as 15.000 people.  Even then, neither visitors nor residents report a sense of being overcrowded. 

The Island also boasts the only state highway in the US--M185--where motorized traffic is not allowed. The road circles the island, hugging the shoreline, and thus affords some fine views.

Mackinac has one of the strongest historical preservation movements in the US.  As a result, the entire island is designated as a National Historic Landmark.  Among the most iconic structures is the Grand Hotel, which featured prominently in two films:  This Time For Keeps and Somewhere In Time, which was shot entirely on the island.

 Bicycling is said to be the most popular way of getting around the island.  Also, people walk a lot, and quite a few roller-skate.  All of that human-powered notion is no doubt fueled by the island's most famous product:  its fudge.

It's interesting and perhaps ironic that in a state that's synonymous with the automotive industry, there's a place where no cars are allowed.  Even more interesting, the now-115-year-old ban began right around the time that the auto industry was beginning.