(If you’re a returning Gumboot reader, you’ll know that me and editor Kurt Heinrich just got back from a trip to Oregon and the U-S of A. If this is your first time reading the Gumboot – good for you.)

2Pac changed my life. Well — not really. I’m being dramatic. It’s more like he changed the pace of my life, or rather, he’s become a reminder that I need slow things down just a little. Allow me to explain. A’ight?

It was the second day of our trip and Kurt was driving towards the Oregon/Washington border. Being the totally accommodating and flexible person I am (shall we debate this point, Kurt?) I handed over full control of the car stereo. He was, after all, the one doing the driving. We were two people with nothing but the horizon and Oregonian breweries in our sights and 2Pac on the stereo – we had our mind on the money and our money on the mind – or was that Biggie Smalls?

Kurt was driving the speed limit along the 101 just outside of Olympia with none other than 2Pac singing ‘his pain’ on the stereo when an under-cover, Washington state-trooper driving the other direction pulled a U-turn and started tailing us. Kurt’s palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy, there’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti… wait a minute….

Lets just say he was totally freaked. We were both freaked. I mean, what other reason would the trooper have to follow us other than to pull us over? Were we speeding? No. Were we up to no good because we were listening to 2Pac and “his pain?” U.S. state troopers aren’t like our run-of-the-mill highway patrol (a league of men and women I almost never see, in this country.) State troopers wait with bated breath to catch you pulling 60 in a 50 zone — especially in Oregon. It’s how they make up for the fact they don’t have a sales tax. State troopers along the Washington/Oregon border have a reputation and not for a moment did we even consider that our predicament would be the exception.

Thankfully, our Deus Ex Machina came in the form of a speeding car, traveling the other way, over the crest of a hill. The trooper hit his lights and turned around, following our god machine the other way. What a save — it felt like fate had stepped in and spared us the cost of several dinners out and brews-on-tap — our vacation was saved by a red Toyota driving the other way! Our relief was slightly delayed because we thought the flashing lights and siren were for us. By the time we realized we were in the safe, the trooper was already chasing the other car and we were well on our way towards Oregon. We both calmed down and returned to 2Pac, whose metre and verse is now a reminder for me to take it nice and slow: “best be prepared for the Outlawz, here we come.”

Thank you 2Pac.

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