I continued to go on long bike tours 2007-2012 throughout the West, and every year I spent some time in the Jemez mountains, and each year 20007-2009 I was stopped by the cops in reference to the "Cookie Bandit", though generally the cops were all "You're the guy who looks like the Cookie Bandit, aren't you?" I would say, "I'm not a criminal, I just look like one." I would tell them some story I heard at the hot springs about Henry and I was kind of surprised they never were able to apprehend them, they certainly had no trouble finding me. The strangest incident was a few months after the shoot out when I was town-crashing Santa Fe, and suddenly I was surrounded on my bike by a new record of police cars: 5. I threw my arms way up in the air and yelled "I'm not the Cookie bandit, he's dead, you already got him." Apparently there was a burglary in the Artist Road neighborhood, so they weren't looking for the Cookie Bandit, but they knew all about it, and the undercover cop who had arrested me in the Jemez was now a Santa Fe cop and he was in the group who surrounded me and we had a little nostalgic moment, and he admitted they they were wrong about me.
Martin Stamper didn't want me at his going away party
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