Speed

I was flogging my BMW K1200GT across the desert on a highway that shall remain unnamed in a likewise unnamed state this week when a police officer coming from the other direction turned on his light bar, suggesting that he wished to have words with me.
Realizing he had me dead to rights, I pulled over and had my gloves and helmet off by the time he could turn around and park behind my bike.
"Do you know how fast you were going?" he asked with a friendly smile.
"Not really. I'd guess about 80," I replied, neglecting to mention I had my electronic cruise control set for 90 mph.
"Well, I had you at 91," he said.
I made a mental note about the accuracy of the cruise control.
In conversation it developed that he, too, is a motorcyclist and apparently has a sympathy for riders who like to go fast on an empty desert highway that is unrealistically posted at 65 mph.
So he wrote me up for a lesser speed, which didn't even constitute a moving violation and won't show up on my driving record or come to the attention of my insurance company.
Thank you, officer.
The fine is about $70 and, while I can think of lots of things I'd rather spend $70 on, it could have been much much worse.
Like, if he had seen me about an hour before when I was going 135 mph.
One of the things on my vacation "to-do" list was to see how fast my new bike will go - something I don't care to try in my midwestern home state with its high-traffic, short line-of-sight roads. Out here in the west, there are lots of empty desert highways that are a straight line to the horizon with nothing on either side of the road for miles,
I'm pretty sure the bike is capable of higher speeds, but the huge waterproof duffle-style bag strapped to the luggage rack is like a big air brake. If I'd taken the time to lash it to the seat along the axis of the bike frame, I'm confident I could have seen 150 mph.