In the summer of 2000, my family and I went on a trip from Southern California to Lake Tahoe-by car. This is quite some trip, 600 miles by my estimate. Generally speaking, there are two ways you can head up north from Southern California, the moron way (PCH), or “the 5”. Now “the 5," as it's known, is at most times a two lane highway, with nothing but strawberry or tomato fields lining it; a real Cesar Chavez nightmare. The 5 is also one of the only places in California where you can see the horizon flat in all directions, 27 point something miles away or whatever it is.
It was late, about two or three in the morning, as we were traveling by this rather creepy stretch of highway. My dad was at the helm, my mom to his right, and me in the back. I had dozed off for a second, only to be awaked by my head slamming against the window (like how you doze off and your head slides over, I hate that.) I looked out the window to my right, and to my surprise/shock/horror/disbelief, there was a light about 80 feet in the air and 200 yards away. I got a pretty good guestimate from the distance in the crop rows and some distant telephone poles.
The light circled about what looked to be a small farmhouse or equipment shed, then shot forward. All of a sudden, this light dipped at an alarmingly fast rate, toward the ground, and started to fly directly at the family Taurus. Now, by alarmingly fast, I mean much, much faster than free fall, at a bank no fighter plane could recover from. I, in my almost scientific composure, yelled, “Holy crap, they think we know too much!” My mom and dad looked out and saw the light, by now flying about 30 yards away, and about 25 feet in the air. The light turned off, and there was nothing in the sky. Less than a second later, as it passed over our car, only the slightest “ph ph ph ph ph ph…….” could be heard. Needless to say, we took PCH back home after the trip.