Taste of CHP training leaves reporter full of pain

Rigorous is not even close to accurate — just ask my abs and triceps.

My faux-cadet experience at the California Highway Patrol Academy in West Sacramento last week was a lesson in many things, including my own physical limitations and awe of what it takes to become a CHP officer. The Media Boot Camp allowed me to see what kinds of physical, academic and law enforcement training that cadets must undergo during the 27-week academy.

Our activities were a mere taste of what fills the cadets' days, which begin at 4 a.m. and often don't end until after 10 p.m. We started at 7 a.m. — and by 3 p.m. I had been screamed at, spit on and flipped onto my back more than once.

The day started with the raising of the flags and marching on the drill pad. We then marched into the gymnasium, where we would sweat and strain to keep up with the instructor for the next 30 minutes.

The jumping jacks, sit-ups and leg raises I could handle, but after the first set of regular push-ups, my triceps were no match for the triangle push-ups to follow, or the additional sets after that. Spittle flew onto my cheek as one instructor berated my improper posture.

Some of the broadcast and newspaper reporters were offended by the intimidating verbal abuse. But instructors explained that CHP officers often deal with people in their worst moments, so yelling helps teach to stay calm, keep focused and not take insults personally.

We soon had an opportunity to don "drunk goggles," which gave us the feeling of a 0.10 blood alcohol level, and administer field sobriety tests to one another. As I stumbled around the white line and fought to stand on one leg, our area CHP spokesman Jeff Larson told me officers routinely see 0.20 and 0.30 levels in Yuba-Sutter.

Then we moved on to officer safety training, where we punched, kicked and flipped attackers off of us and onto the floor.

Next, in the shooting simulation, we were given real guns, but with lasers instead of bullets. During the scenarios we were presented with, I managed to fire off two "fatal" shots to a man charging at me with a machete, and deal another impairing shot to a man shooting at me from the bushes.

The scenarios require lightning-fast thinking and analysis, and to an untrained person the right decision is not always easy. Under questioning, I doubted if my second fatal shot was the right action, but the instructor assured me it was since the threat was still present to my partner and me.

Larson later pointed out that law enforcement officers are the only ones in the United States who are given the right to kill someone without a judge or jury. It's an incredible responsibility, and officers don't have the luxury to doubt themselves as I did.

Undeniably, the skid pan was my favorite part of the day. Nothing quite compares to swerving around slick corners of a wet track, fighting the accelerator and steering wheel to keep the car from spinning out of control.

We also worked a staged accident scene, extricating the victim, arresting the DUI driver, controlling traffic and filling out paperwork. We did the job with about 12 people — a task that in regions like Yuba-Sutter is done by only one officer, Larson said.

Aside from the physical training, I would describe most of our academy experience as "fun." But for the cadets, the academy represents 27 weeks of high-stress training, endurance and education.

There is no room for error once they become officers. Their safety and the safety of others depends on their ability to make the right decisions.

For me, the skid pan was a thrill ride. But, to cadets, it demands a strong understanding of physics, and they only have four attempts to pass that part of the course.

The entertaining drunk goggles are actually teaching tools as cadets learn the neurology and physiology of intoxication.

The shooting simulation was a test in decision-making and ethics, not just developing good aim.

The rigors of the CHP camp are more stressful and demanding than military boot camp, officers said. The academy averages a 35 percent attrition rate, by cadets who drop out or are asked to leave for not making the grade.

Four days later, my muscles still tingling with tenderness, I can see why.

Contact Appeal reporter Ashley Gebb at 749-4724 or agebb@appealdemocrat.com