Beach Day Flashback: Cruising in the Egged Zone Cops, Cars and Chickens: Another Weird Coastal Road Tale An egg for the egger By John Leighty I saw the flashing red light just as I was about to gear down to the next time zone. The farm town was only a blink along Northern California’s Coast Highway One and the sheriff’s four-wheel drive Bronco looked bigger than the starship Enterprise when it hovered in behind my sputtering paisley vintage Jeep. “Damn,” I muttered, winding down the window and exhaling a vape of sweet smoke that floated down the dusty road past a clucking red hen and encircled the menacing cruiser. Paisley Jeep The cracked rear-view mirror revealed a short, stocky deputy dawg shuffling my way. I’d already flailed through my coat pockets for my wallet without any luck. I had no clue where it could be, but maybe ... Tap, tap. From my kneeling position on the floor, the hatless lawman fused into a giant pair of cheap blue-tinted sunglasses, from which he re-emerged as I
