I was rolling through Evanston (North suburb of Chicago) tonight when I found this sweet stretch of road that ran slightly downhill and had fresh blacktop, which is something that, as a Chicago native, I have rarely experienced. I started down, and as there was no traffic I went all out. So I'm going downhill, theres a slight tailwind pushing me, I'm on fresh blacktop, there's no bag to weigh me down and cause aero drag, and I'm at a dead sprint. This is the fastest I've ever gone on a bike. At the bottom of the hill I hear a siren, pull over, and stop. Cop gave me a verbal warning for going 34 in a 25. He told me that if I didn't stop with my sh*t-eating grin he would give me a ticket. I was super stoked about my speed.