This post is not about house-building, it's about living in Montana and what happened to me this morning.
I drive on the only highway in the area to go to work in the morning, it's two lanes in either direction and the speed limit is 75. I usually see some light traffic around Billings, and then it peters out, until it's just me and a truck or two that I pass as I'm going along. I am usually completely alone on the road, and it's great. No traffic, no cars, not much to worry about.
Today I was just outside of Park City, Mont. when I was nearly hit by an airplane.
...an airplane.
...a crop-dusting airplane.
I'm not even joking.
When I first saw it, I thought it was crashing and then at the last moment it pulled out of it's dive over a field and sprayed the crops with something. Then I guess the pilot didn't see me, because he circled back around and crossed right over the interstate directly in front of my car as I was going nearly 80 mph. I slammed on my breaks and missed t-boning him by about 10 feet.
I'm sorry, an AIRPLANE. I haven't quite gotten over it yet, and it's been 7 hours.
**frazzled**
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