I'm from Southern New Mexico, not Roswell, but New Mexico...What do you THINK?!
To us, lights in the sky that do goofy things are NORMAL!
Most of my friends have relatives that either have scaly skin, large triangular heads, or loooong fingers (all four of 'em).
Spending your birfday on the Mother Ship is a kick!
Our high school team was called "The Grays" until the PC crowd changed it so no Gray people's feelings would be hurt. It's now "The Genetically Diverse People from Several Distant Galaxies"
Yep!...I was gettin REAALLLYYYY Stoned one night in Austrailia. :roll: :arrow: (Dont roll your F**kin eyes @ Me!!...Sorry takin to myself again! my Therapist sez Ill get over It. )Anyhow, I was on a deckchair in the back yard lookin up at the sky and there was this Star That was Movin across the sky real slow,and then It just Disappeared! Freakd the S**t outa Me :!: thought I was gonna get Abducted....Again. Turned out to be a piece of Space junk commin through the Atmosphere....But I know there comming bak for Me!!!!
Tell you what, girls and boys ... Uncle Scotty is gonna spin ya a real true life yarn 'bout what me and my best buddy (No! Not THAT best buddy!) saw one night down in the desert ... some 44 years ago. If ya all go right to bed and eat your vegetables (lima beans and mushy carrots excluded) maybe I'll share the story with you all tomorrow, or the next day!
That's me the day after we seen it. ... that's a very nervous smile! ... this was before them probe thangs!
Well, girls and boys ... here’s my favorite story I’ve acquired in my short six decades! Gather round!
I’m an expert on this one - I was there - I saw it and I’ll never change my story becauseI can’t. ... It happened.
I wasn’t even wearing my early 1960’s aluminium tinfoil hat prototype, either!
Non-believers ... get your rotten tomatos ready to throw - here’s the long version! Better yet, see what’s on TV!
I'll loan you this flag to throw at me later - if'n ya cain't believe me!
Back in ‘63 my friend Allan and I had taken some horses about ten miles south of Walter’s Camp to hunt wild desert pig (javalina). Although 18, both of us were very experienced desert hunters - we’d been doing it since we were little kids, with our dads and older brothers. We were known as the ‘Little Desert Rats.’ This was probably our fifth or sixth trip alone out to this particular part of the Mojave. All previous trips had been completely uneventful - never seen anything unusual - and mostly successful hunting and fishing trips.
The California side of the river, there, is made up of sand washes that go right down to the edge of the Colorado River, with some occasional little cane breaks that run along the river’s edge. Bordering each wash are very ancient lava flows (making rounded, smooth, small flat pebbled, easily walkable, ten to fifteen foot high flat topped flows that are long ridges that run down to the water’s edge. The whole place is pretty picturesque and a very desolate part of the Mojave Desert.
The Arizona side (across the river) is completely different than the California side. No smooth sand washes divided by ancient lava flow ridges leading to the river - rather, the Arizona side is a jumble of huge rounded (house-sized boulders) and countless smaller (rounded as well) car sized stones in a jumble all around. The topography there rises slowly up to a sky horizon of about two hundred feet - about a half mile to the east of the river. It’s absolutely impossible to walk or drive on the Arizona side because of the endless field of boulders and absolutely no roads. Except for an occasional cluster of scrub brush growing between some of the boulders it’s quite lifeless over there - well, no people, for sure.
On this particular trip, Allan and I got to our favorite spot - south of Blythe, about ten miles south of Walter’s Camp, in the middle of a rather large sand wash about 50 yards from the river’s edge. Walter’s Camp is where the dirt road offically ended in those days. It was late in the afternoon.
We unloaded, exercised, brushed, hobbled and staked the horses. Set up camp, and built a fire next to a flow. We cooked, ate dinner and cleaned up by 8 PM, or so.
It was a very hot and moonless evening and there were meteor showers that night - in September the Perseid meteor showers are still pretty active. In the ‘low desert’ starlight is so bright that, if cloudless, you can easily walk the desert without a flashlight (although not a good idea because of rattlers).
That night, we climbed to the top of the flat topped (smooth) pebble strewn flow next to the campsite and walked down towards the river. About 50 yards from the river it flared a bit and was very flat, overlooking the river at about 20 feet above the water.
It was too early, and too hot, to turn in that early so we laid down there on our backs to watch the meteor showers. Only wearing bathing suits, boots, and holstered snake shot-loaded revolvers (let’s hear it for SA Rugers!) we were very comfortable. We had left the flashlights and canteens behind in camp.
We were up there about three hours chatting and watching the meteor showers. We lost track of time - very easy to do in the desert quiet.
Finally, we realised that if we were to get an early start, it was time to go back to camp. When we stood up ... and here’s the ‘good part’ ... we stood there facing east looking at something that was absolutely impossible. It’s akin to walking into your living room to find a hippopotamus reading a newspaper in your favorite chair!
Initially - for a split second - it looked like there were about fifty people standing in line across the top of a couple of the house sized boulders on the Arizona side of the river, holding flashlights, evenly spaced, the lights were a bright white! A quick ‘double take look’ also showed a cluster of bright and clearly defined smaller red and green lights to the left (at it’s north end) and another smaller cluster of not so bright and lesser defined bluish lights on the other end.
We couldn’t see an outline around the lights because it was below the Arizona-side horizon and the starlight wasn’t quite bright enough to illuminate it well enough with countless dark boulders in the background.
The next thing we both noticed (after comparing notes, later) was a very bright bluish-white kind of a spotlight light shining down from the green and red clusters of lights at it’s ‘north’ end. The ‘spotlight’ (best way to describe it) was transfixed down on a large rock surface directly below it. The bluish white circle on the rock was very vivid against the darker surroundings.
After only, maybe, a couple of seconds, the ‘searchlight’ snapped off and immediately all the lights rose up in unison to about 300 - 400 feet and stopped there in mid-air. We were stupefied since there was no noise accompanying it’s rapid assent - and it just silently hovered there making no sound - no movement! Now at it’s zenith and not surrounded by the darker rocks beyond we could see an outline! It was (for the lack of better words) ‘cigar shaped’ and perfectly smooth, cylindrical and metalic-like.
On a still, hot, desert night, you can hear someone speaking in a normal conversational voice about a half mile away. This was only about hundred and fifty yards away and hadn’t made a sound as it rose and stopped!
After hanging there for a couple of seconds (maybe three) it shot down river about three hundred yards in a flash and stopped (at the same altitude)! It hung there for about five seconds and dropped straight down in an instant. The last thing we observed was the ‘searchlight’ on the end closest to us snapped back on and began playing over the rocks below. It definitely looked as if it was looking for something on the boulders below. Still there was no sound, none, none whatsoever.
The searchlight snapped off and it shot east - maintaining the same altitude - at a right angle. It stopped instantly and the searchlight snapped on again, playing it’s bluish white light on the rocks and scattered bushes below.
As I turned to my left - totally astonished -towards Allan who had been standing next to me I began saying, “DID YOU SEE TH ... .”
He wasn’t there! He was gone! Sheer panic jolted me into movement and I turned the rest of the way around to see him running back towards camp in a flat out sprint for his life!
My adrenaline kicked in and I almost caught up to him as we approached our camp, below, in the sand wash!
We have never been scared like that - before or since. When we were 16 we were shot at by some Mexican smugglers, near Inkopah, and had been delighted to return fire on them for a fifteen minute wild melee of a firefight (that we won, may I add) before they broke off and ran away! We were exhilarated - not scared in the least!
Now we were 18 and still afraid of absolutely nothing - especially a string of lights, with a searchlight on one end!
Allan, usually the ‘Cool Hand Luke’ of our hunting group, leapt off of a (about) 10 foot bluff next to the campfire, landed with firmly planted boots in the campfire and proceeded to kick embers all over the now dark and peaceful camp! I, no less freaked out tried to run down a much too steep embankment into camp from the flow above. My feet flew out from under me and I rolled like a ball all the way down ... and came up running!
By the time I got to the ‘61 Scout, Allan was already there having managed to drag his new rifle across the bare metal bed of the Scout! Allan was always VERY fussy about his guns - even trail scabbard guns - and would glare at you if you even touched the bluing, until you put it down! Then he’d immediately wipe it down with an oilcloth glaring disdainfully at you all the while!
Anyway, he managed to badly scratch one side of his rifle and was trying to jam as many rounds into the magazine as possible! I think he managed to load two - the rest being dropped onto the sand!
I grabbed the backup pump 12GA - wounded Javalina always go for the horse’s legs - and managed to get one round in before I fled to the tent right behind him!
The hobbled horses had pulled their stakes and were ‘escaping’ down the wash in a series of frenzied ‘baby steps!’ LOL
We sat - terrified - in that tent for an hour without speaking. We had both unholstered the sidearms and laid them at our sides ... and were waiting - fortified with two rifle rounds and a shotgun round (and about 12 rounds of .357 snakecapped loads) we ready to defend ourselves against any and all intergalactic comers! The thought of going back to the Scout’s tailgate and getting more ammo was completely out of the question ... until morning, anyway!
About a half hour before sunrise the sky to the east was just beginning to show a little pink and Allan and I crawled out of the tent. We had dozed a bit - maybe - Allan thought we had and I didn’t. One of the few points we still argue about, some 42 years later.
We bellied up upon that flow now armed with .45 autos strapped to our legs and kind of slouch-ran ... as stealthily as you can exposed on the top of a smooth lava flow with no cover - towards the open river. When we got to the same spot we had begun our mad dash west, the night before, we both stood erect and saw nothing - absolutely nothing except empty river and the jumble of rocks beyond.
I have few regrets in my life - but there is one that falls among my the top three. If I could do it over again, I would have stood my ground and stayed ... maybe. Allan and I both agree that maybe the fear may have been somehow induced into us from whatever that was ... but that is pure conjecture and ... I guess we’ll never know!
We sprinted back to the camp and unceremoniously THREW the camp into the back of the Scout! We have never before, or since, not carefully folded the ground tarp, tent, carefully packed the poles, food stuffs and other camp equipment into their boxes and containers - we certainly didn’t do it that morning!
As the sun was just peeking over the low Arizona hills, to the east, we had unhobbled the horses and literally pushed them back into the trailer without feed or water!
We rapidly drove north back up to Walter’s Camp and to the paved road as fast as we could go ... short of killing the horses in the trailer!
About half way there, we spotted a River Ranger (river game warden) standing and steering his small one man boat down the river! We jumped out of the Scout and hooted and hollered him over! With an alarmed look of concern he listened to us as we jumped about like two little girls at their favorite birthday party trying to explain what we had seen! The grim looking law enforcement officer looked interested - but just mildly!
He patiently waited until we had finished, and said, “Well, thanks boys but I’ve got a long way to go this morning before the sun gets too high.” With that, he walked a few feet back to his boat, shoved off and putted away down the river without even a backwards glance! We were dumbfounded!
We had just seen the most profound evidence of extraterrestrial life and HE wasn’t the least bit interested!
We made a pact to not tell anyone else - other than our immediate families at home! We held to that for about ten years!
Allan and I were at a party about ten years later and some yahoo was spinning some yarn about some lights way high in the sky that he had seen up in the Sierra Nevada. I smiled at Allan and he smiled at me ... and with a few minutes we had easily taken the ‘Crown of the Best UFO Story’ that night, amidst a crowd of astonished friends!
Allan and I camped the deserts, mountains of the Southwest, Northern Sonora and Baja (and even had a summer’s fishing trip, together, up to Alaska once, in ‘76) ... for another twenty five years, or so. We even pitted and raced the SCORE Baja 1000 a couple of times - SandBlaster buggies. We used lie on low camp cots staring up at the sky at night, often, just watching for a second chance ... but we never got one.
That was our first - and last - UFO and we ran away!
How, utterly, embarrassing!
... an THAT'S the way it happened, so help me Lee!