When I was teenager I spent a summer working in the West Highlands. There was an attitude that we lived West of the Regulations. That we could almost do as we pleased. To a large extent this was due to the very few roads in the area, which made it hard for those job was to enforce the regulations to sneak up on a person. The progress of police vehicles, for example, was reported by telephone call from pub to pub at almost every junction and crossroads in an area covering hundreds of square miles. Things were more relaxed when it was known that the road being taken no longer meant the cop car to would be in the vicinity of certain bars. Maybe if surprise was essential, the police travelled in unmarked Volkswagen Campervans or landed on the coast from commando speed boats and rode motocross bikes over the drove roads.