Dr. Richard Boylan, Las Vegas, Nevada

How does a psychologist begin to talk about contact by extraterrestrials? As I write this (February, 1993), I am still strongly influenced by the popular culture’s carefully sculpted attitude of scoffing at extraterrestrial contact. And, of course, I have my professional position to think about. Then, too, the disclosure work I have done on covert weapons and operations of the “Black Budget” side of government has earned me scores of warnings from ex-military and “ex-“Intelligence types.

Given the focus of the CIA and Defense Intelligence on psychological warfare, psychotronics and mind control, am I not giving them further keys to my mind by making open the intimate details of my close encounter experiences? However, to tell the truth, I am driven by a sense of mission to tell this truth and damn the consequences. It has become increasingly clear to me that this sense of mission comes from my extraterrestrial contacts. But, lest I sound like a galactic version of the Manchurian Candidate, let me affirm that I probably would have done it anyway.

Telling the truth in the face of the Big Lie has always been important to me. So, here goes.
In reporting Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind (CE-IV’s), I shall omit the possible, but not certain, incidents of my earlier life. Such would include an unseen, silent mystery “helicopter?” that shone an intense beam of white light down on our car and the roadside hill, as my girlfriend Donna and I were driving between Mokelumne Hill and San Andreas, CA on Highway 49 on a summer night in 1984.

Or the intense light that lit up my surroundings and woke me up around 4:30 a.m. in 1952, as I, age 12, slept on a Boy Scout campout in the Eastern California desert near the Nevada line. I assumed it was the light from an atomic bomb test due to go off that morning at the Nevada Test Site. So I groggily went back to sleep, only to be reawakened about an hour later by the flashbulb-bright lightburst of the actual atom bomb, complete with delayed faint rumble sound from the East. I remember wondering puzzledly about “two” test shots so close together, when normally they are spaced weeks apart.

Leaving aside the unclear incidents, I will concentrate on what is certain. My sure Close Encounters are two, plus some “minor” incidents. My first sure Close Encounter took place from about 11:20 p.m., April 12, until 12:20 a.m., April 13, 1992 on a lonely stretch of U.S. Highway 180 in southern New Mexico.

The second Close Encounter occurred along an equally lonely stretch of Nevada State Highway 375 about 100 miles north of Las Vegas on the night of November 30, 1992. Both encounters took place, perhaps not coincidentally, while I was engaged in covert reconnoitering of areas having classified UFO/Star Wars bases.

To put my first Close Encounter into perspective, the reader should know that this CE-IV took place on the fifth day of an intensive reconnaissance tour I made of secret UFO bases, Star Wars weapons labs, and Black Budget test ranges of the U.S. Southwest. I made this Grand Tour after four months of intense reading up on the latest information on these topics. My intensity came from some source outside of my usual curiosity.

During the portion of the tour before I had my CE-IV, I had already reconnoitered: [cf. footnote 1] a secret, undeclared missile battery at Deep Springs, CA, protecting the western approaches to classified bases in mid-Nevada; the Department of Energy’s secret Tonopah (Star Wars weapons) Test Range; the Above-Top-Secret Area 51 and Area S-4 bases where I actually saw the U.S. flying its own homemade flying saucers; the anomalous support facilities to the Archuleta Mesa installation near Dulce, NM, where multiple UFO sightings and cattle mutilations have been reported; the Los Alamos National Laboratories’ anti-matter and biological weapons, and extraterrestrial biological research facilities; the Sandia National Laboratories at Kirtland Air Force Base, Albuquerque where I discovered controlled, self-sustaining, compact, magnetically-contained nuclear fusion available as a powerplant or source of SDI weapon energy, and 100-trillion-volt electro- magnetic-pulse weapons development; the classified-Umbra National Solar Observatory at Sunspot, NM where USAF scientists research spaceflight effects of geomagnetics; and the adjacent National Security Agency’s ELMINT Sacramento Peak Frequency Surveillance Station (under cover of U.S. Army) which monitors electromagnetic intelligence around the White Sands Missile Range, Holloman Air Force Base and NASA’s secret Johnson Space City complex behind White Sands National Monument.

After my personal ET encounter, I completed, as scheduled, my reconnaissance of: the National Radio Astronomy Observatory (Datil, NM), (where I discovered the government is secretly sending and receiving communication signals from intelligent sources in space); secret underground tunnels being prepared near the site of what was supposed to be the Very Large Array radiotelescope facility (Pietown, NM); and Northrop’s highly-classified U.S. flying saucer manufacturing works near Lancaster in the Tehachapi Mountains, where I saw brief test flights of the same U.S. saucers I saw extensively flown above Area 51, Nevada.

Thus, it was in the context of this eye-opening and dangerous reconnoiter, uncovering secrets of the Southwest’s most exotic, classified and heavily-guarded UFO and Star Wars bases, that I was intercepted halfway through by extraterrestrials.

The Extraterrestrials have a vital interest in this governmental technological and weapons-oriented buildup response to the secret the government has suppressed for 45 years: that extraterrestrial contact is a fact. The Extraterrestrials’ vital interest is that these Star Wars weapons have been prepared against, and are being targeted on them.

Before I began my Grand Tour, I had shifted from my previously neutral-to-favorable stance on Extraterrestrials to a rather fearful and wary stance, due to having just read David Jacobs’ deceptive book, Secret Life. In this book Jacobs purports to present investigatory cases portraying Aliens as uniformly cruel, predatory, rapacious, unfeeling, intrusive kidnappers and rapists, who continually prowl about invading the minds and body cavities of their human victims, terrorizing them, and looking for ovum and sperm samples so they can breed horrible hybrid monsters.

After my Close Encounter the night of April 12, I noticed the very next morning a dramatic change in the way I felt about extraterrestrials. I felt more peaceful and composed about them as I completed the rest of my mind-blowing reconnoiter of what “our” Government is up to. I felt: so what if people from another star system come here to visit.
Later on I determined that Jacobs’s “research” book was a detectably false distortion of the facts. And I learned from author Karla Turner that he had discarded cases which did not fit his preconceived notions, thus “cooking” his “findings”. [footnote 2].

Let me now relate to you what happened in New Mexico, as I had my first close extraterrestrial encounter. Part of what took place is blocked from complete recall. This sometimes happens to CE-IV experiencers, due to either the extraordinary context in which such encounters occur, or due to a post-hypnotic suggestion instilled by the extraterrestrials that the person will not recall all the details until a later, better time. Thus I will present all that I could retrieve, which seems to be most of what happened.

On April 12, 1992, after leaving Alamogordo I proceeded west on Interstate 10 towards Deming, NM in my Chevy Blazer. I had my CB radio on, listening to and talking with truckers along the way. At Deming I turned off onto U.S. 180, heading northwest towards my destination for the night, a campground in Gila National Forest. Highway U.S. 180 is a two-lane blacktop road that goes in an almost straight line for 53 miles between Deming and Silver City, through absolutely empty and featureless Sonoran scrub desert. It’s mostly flat, with an occasional gentle rise, and this night had maybe three cars on it besides mine the entire length.

When I left Interstate 10 at Deming it was just after 11 p.m., on a cloudless and starry night in the pitch-black desert. As I pulled away from the Interstate, the CB audio traffic died out due to distance. I was weary but alert enough to safely complete my drive to the campground. I estimated I would arrive by 12:30 a.m. As I settled in to this final leg of a long day’s drive, I was aware that the road rose gently after about 15 miles. It was at about 11:20 p.m. I vaguely noticed a patch of whiteness shining in the moonlight on a rise over to the left, about 200 yards off the road.

I remember vaguely considering it as a patch of snow. (Later I realized that there could not be snow at this lowest part of the southernmost region of the New Mexico desert; I had not seen snow on the ground since traveling in the mountains west of Taos, some 400 miles north.) About this time I heard a loud voice I presumed came from my CB, saying in an Arkansas twang, “Watch out for the smoke!” (or “Smokey,” i.e., state trooper; I’m not sure which word was used).

The voice seemed to come from behind my left ear. (Later, reflecting that my CB speaker was mounted below my dash in front of me slightly to the right, I realized it wasn’t the CB talking.)
At first I figured that some trucker ahead of me was warning anyone about a State Trooper he had spotted. So I got on the CB and asked “Where is the Smokey?” I was surprised when I got no answer. This is the only time in my experience that a CB-er failed to provide location information to follow up on his State Trooper warning. The strangeness had only begun.

Almost at once I saw what looked like a huge luminous cloud of smoke stretched across the highway from the leftmost part of the rise to the rightmost part and up to the sky, a solid curtain across the highway. I presumed that it was my bad luck to be running across a forest fire. So I went back on the CB to ask anyone out there, “Where’s the fire? Does anyone know about the fire on 180?” Again, it was spooky. No answer from Arkansas Twang or anyone else. I started to broadcast again, then gave up lamely, since I was just about upon the presumed smokecloud. I cursed my luck, and in a second calculated what a long detour I would have to drive if this fire blocked the highway, versus the risk of plowing through the smoke blind, hoping it was just a hundred feet thick or so and I could break through to the other side and complete my journey. I drove into the smoke, taking my foot off the gas to slow down in case I didn’t pop through the other side quickly. I didn’t. Not for an hour.

The smoke seemed to be coming off the hillside to the left of me. I couldn’t see the road, the center line or anything. So I came to a stop. (Later, in hypnotic recall, I noted that there were no trees or brush burning, no blackened or charred chapparal, and that the “smoke” had no odor! Nor was this fog, not in the Springtime bone-dry Sonoran desert with the air temperature nowhere near any “dewpoint.”) I sat defeated in my car, stopped in the right lane of U.S. 180 in the middle of nowhere. The grayish-white vapor did not dissipate. So I got out, walked across the road to the left shoulder, towards where the ground rose slightly up, disoriented in the vapor. I got the impression of low scrub pinon pines spaced apart in the vapor. I stepped across a little ditch at the edge of the road and walked towards these “pinon pines,” then stopped, unable to see. (I presumed there were pinon pines there, but a friend who later re-drove that road in daylight told me there were none on that stretch.)

Then I went into a state of paralysis. I could not move my body. I sensed the approach of two persons, who got on either side of me. Each placed a firm grip on my forearms. I cannot recall viewing them. The funny thing about their hands was that theirs was a three-finger grip. Their fingers were long and didn’t feel like human fingers. They did not have articulated bones, but felt like a continuous cartilage inside with a padded fleshy exterior. The grip consisted of two fingers on top of my forearm and one finger underneath. The fingers were not much wider than human ones but quite long. And their grip was like a vise. It was clear I was going with them. I had no better idea, anyway.

I was led forward and to the left, in the general direction of what I had presumed was the “snowpatch” gleaming in the moon- light. Soon we arrived at a landed metallic vehicle. I stopped about five feet in front of midpoint of its long side. It was shaped like a flattened arch, with rounded ends. The bottom seemed more flat, but that may be because it was partially sunk into the sand. It was a metallic color, about the color of Airstream trailers, only not so bright. The length I would estimate at 35-50 feet and the height at midpoint at 10-12 feet. A resource person I consult with remote viewing capability determined that the craft had been in distress and had made a hard landing, and that one of the three crewmen was hurt.

A rectangular opening appeared in the side of the craft. Next thing, I remember sitting back in a chair in a room inside the craft, feeling spacey and numb, and gradually realizing that I was alone; they had left. The lighting in there was subdued. The air inside was of sort of a neutral temperature, not sharply cold like the desert night air. It smelled stale, like the recycled air you encounter in an airliner during a trans-continental flight.

After awhile they came back. The one who had the stronger grip when we encountered, the one on my right, felt like a male. As he came back in, I had a quick glimpse of his face. He had a roundish oval face with two large horizontally ovoid black eyes that did not slant or wrap around the side. No irises or pupils, just black all the way across the eye. I did not notice a nose, and got more of an impression than a view of a mouth. I did not clearly see, but got the impression of, a thin torso and limbs. Height I would estimate at five feet. He seemed placid, matter-of-fact. He was definitely not human, but unmistakably intelligent life. The other extraterrestrial had had a gentler, yet firm, grip on my left forearm when we first had our encounter. The feeling was of a lighter, gentler persona, possibly a female.

I was escorted into another room, which was also dimly lit, and placed in a reclining position, something like the posture in a dentist’s or astronaut’s chair. I felt a buzzing, stimulating,
resonating sensation in the triangular area defined by the tops of my eyebrows and the bridge of my nose, and focussed about a quarter-inch inward from skin surface. (This is a sensation I would become quite familiar with in the days and months ahead. It has heralded and accompanied subsequent ET contact, and anomalous occurrences that are presumably their handiwork.) I experienced a sense of pressure in my nose, as if a small object was being introduced into my nasal passages or even a little higher. (Afterwards for four or five days I had a sense of excessive pressure there, along with a feeling of buzzy resonance and pressure in my head that was almost like a headache, but not quite.)

Next I had a sensation of the release of restraints around my ankles; not physical restraints, but more of an immaterial, force-field kind. I understood that the ET’s were done, and I was free to go. I got up. The next segment I remember is being outside the craft in the night floating horizontally towards my vehicle. After that, I became aware of being behind the wheel, driving below the speed limit, the “vapor” dissipating, and I’m breaking out of the “smokecloud”. I’m resuming my drive up U.S. 180 towards the Gila National Forest campground, where I then camped for the rest of the night.

. The next morning, when I woke up, I had no memory of my Close Encounter. But I did notice four odd things. I had a strange fullness and pressure feeling in my upper nasal passage area and a dull almost-headache: these are symptoms I had never had before. I wrote it off to fatigue. As I put on my socks I also noted that there were two tiny scoop marks side-by-side on top of my right great toe, each like a shallow crater that you could rest a BB in. I was startled, because I am no stranger to the body-marks literature of extraterrestrial encounters, which includes scoop marks from ETs’sampling of tissue. But denial set in, and I said to myself, “Nah, that can’t be that!” Then I reflected that I had arrived at the campground at least an hour after my estimated time. And on the open roads of New Mexico, where a minute can equal a mile, I had become quite precise at calculating traveling time.

Lastly, I noticed, with curiosity, that overnight my attitude towards extraterrestrials had changed. Gone was the gripping fear that I had carried since reading Jacobs’s lurid book. Instead I noticed that a gentle live-and-let-live attitude had settled in. And I began feeling sorry for the extraterrestrials, as I considered the monumental Star Wars weapons crash program aimed at them that I had just seen this trip. I also reflected on my own research. Cases I had interviewed found the extraterrestrials to be, after the human got over her/his initial fright, usually caring, gentle while firm, and concerned for such values as ecology, social justice, childhood education, consciousness advancement, and a spiritual/metaphysical focus.

I noted that the CE-IV Experiencers stated that while some gynecological/urological procedures did seem oriented towards retrieving reproductive material, in many other instances other ET medical procedures were oriented towards: cures of diseases, genetic manipulation of ovaries or an in-place fetus to create enhanced capabilities in the fetus (future offspring) of the Experiencer, or the returning of an enhanced conceptus to the mother for completion of childbearing and child-rearing. It struck me how distorted and misleading the reports of David Jacobs and Budd Hopkins were, with their Grey Menace tales. Instead, I found it appropriate to think like an anthropologist: what we have here is a contact between civilizations.
I also felt dedicated to the goal that this ET Contact with Earth not end up as it did in the movie Cool Hand Luke, where the sadistic Cracker Warden drawls: “What we have here is a failure to communicate.”

So, a little suspicion began to curl inside my head. But I discounted it, saying to myself that the dramatic discoveries I had seen were making me tend to overdramatize these anomalies.
It was only after I returned home from the entire trip, and had nasal pressure, quasi-headaches and uncharacteristic moodiness and grouchiness persist for five days, that I reviewed everything, and realized that these, too, were common psychological aftermath signs of a Close Encounter repressed from conscious memory. At that point I made room for the possibility that I had had a CE-IV. I consulted a hypnotist-psychologist and a psychic remote-viewer to explore that possibility. When the hypnotist had me smell the “smoke” and I noticed no odor, that was the final straw that crumbled my denial. All that emerged from sessions with them is what I have resented.

Since this first Close Encounter, my life has gone differently. Like many other experiencers, I have experienced an acquisition of certain psychic abilities, or perhaps an enhancement of latent abilities. Such things as the telephone ringing and often I pretty much know who is on the other end. Or the ability to “feel” around corners: I’ll drive near an ATM carport without being able to see into it and “know” whether there’s a car in line already or it’s clear. Or I’ll often have a sense of whether there are any messages on my answering machine or not before I come in and look. I’ll get a hunch or premonition when the extraterrestrials are coming, or going to be up to something, that turns out right.

On the physical side, I have a few times awakened with little blood spots in my nose, (signs of nasal-entry procedures), and I never used to get bloody noses. And I sometimes note strange marks, like a straight-line healed cut, as a laser would make, that wasn’t there the night before. This is coupled with a sense that I had been visited the night before. Or I might be exhausted by the pressures of juggling family, marriage, jobs as an academic psychologist and counseling hypnotherapist, and my research and publication work on the Extraterrestrial Presence phenomenon, and I’ll go to bed exhausted, have a sense of an ET intervention, and wake up brimming with energy and ready to take on some more.

On the astronomical front, during the late Summer through Winter of 1992 over the sky of Sacramento on several nights per week a stationary intensely-glowing object has appeared for hours at a time. Nicknamed by me The Twinkler, the object frequently but not always strobes beautiful different colored lights of red, teal, yellow, and bluish white, at a rate of about 6 cycles per second. Over the months it took a picket position at the different cardinal points of the compass, sometimes moving slightly, and generally shining from an hour after sunset until midnight, but varying in its “schedule.” Other family members and Experiencers have seen the same object, although it was never reported in the newspaper.

And I’ve had a couple of subtle micro-Encounters. Once, when I was going out the front door at night on impulse, I heard and saw a rustling and rapid movement in the hedges on the right by the front door, which then “jumped” across in front of me and started clambering up on top of the hedges on my left all along the side of the house. It was as though something heavy and large, like an invisible big chimpanzee, raced across in front of me and onto and along the six-foot-high hedges. I know the extraterrestrials can either cloak themselves in invisibility, or create in the mind of the viewer a substitute visualization for themselves. And I know we don’t keep any invisible chimpanzees as pets.

On another occasion as I was standing in the doorway of the bathroom in our bedroom, I glanced over towards the doorway to the hall, and got a quick glimpse of the back half of a figure in white turning around and exiting the doorway down the hall. I called out “Lee,” thinking it was my wife. There was no answer. I walked over to the hallway and looked down and saw no one. I walked down to the kitchen, unsuccessfully. Finally I found her in the bathroom at the other end of the house. I asked her if she had just been down to the bedroom, but she had been in the far bathroom for a while. All the outside doors were locked. No one else was home that night. At least no one human was.

On the mental side I sometimes wake up with information or “advanced” awarenesses or intuitions that I didn’t have before. Such information may have to do with “knowing” future events, or scientific principles I have never studied. Or what the Government’s next strategy was going to be vis-a-vis the Cover-Up of extraterrestrial contact. Eerily, some one or two others of the Experiencers I am in contact with might get the same information around the same day or week. To use a computer phrase, it’s like someone dumped a disc full of data onto my hard drive while I slept. But daytime intuitions come, too. And I have definitely had a successive series of strong “mission” feelings. For example, to overcome, and to encourage other Experiencers to overcome, the shame factor in coming out of the closet about having extraterrestrial contact. Or to go public with the Secret Government’s murderous Star Wars agenda against extraterrestrials.

On the spiritual side, I have experienced, since researching extraterrestrial encounters, a gradual enhancement of my pre- existing attraction to shamanism and Native American spirituality. It appears that the connection is the emphasis of both Native American medicine persons and the extraterrestrials on a reverence for the Earth as a precious organism inextricably interwoven with our own life process and that of all our living relations (the animal, fish, bird, plant, microbial, etc., kingdoms).

Now I will share my second major Close Encounter experience. This took place on the night of November 30, 1992, while some other Experiencers and I were attending the Las Vegas International UFO Congress as invited speakers. Before I went to the Congress, I had a strong pull to revisit the Nevada Test Site-Nellis AFB Gunnery Range-Tonopah Test Range-Areas 51 and S-4/ Coyote Alpha complex. This off-limits Federal complex lies from 30 to 100 miles northwest of Las Vegas. Between speaking Monday afternoon on my research on extraterrestrial encounters and my talk Tuesday morning on the April Grand Tour of secret UFO and Star Wars bases, the pull to go visit became irresistible, despite the obvious danger. The UFO Congress had numerous Intelligence operatives in attendance, and in view of my published exposes of Area 51’s activity, and the pattern of mail intercept, telephone monitoring, and dirty tricks by Agency types I had experienced, it was clear that any movement I made towards Area 51 would be under surveillance. I also “got” the message that there would be an unfriendly “welcoming” committee waiting at Area 51, if I tried to repeat my near-penetration of the Reservation boundary, as I had in April.

Originally a couple of other experiencers and I were going to reconnoiter Area 51 together. But around dinnertime one felt poorly, and another volunteered to stay behind and look after her.
My intention was to take the shortest route to Area 51, via I-15 and U.S. 93. However, as I came to a junction on I-15, I took the exit for U.S. 95, although I would swear I read “U.S. 93.” (This kind of “accidental” re-routing has been noted by many experiencers, when the extraterrestrials want you to go a different route for a special reason.) Thus I took the west-side long route, which took me all the way around the federal restricted complex. I drove, having binoculars handy, and watching for anomalies.

As I proceeded north of Scotty’s Junction on U.S. 95, I noted that the Department of Energy’s [SDI] Tonopah Test Range was to the right, (although the official entrance was on U.S. 6 up ahead). Soon after, an odd light rose up from above the ridgeline there, and descend to nearer the base of the Cactus Range, and proceed along parallel with my car, but a mile or two to the right. After five minutes the light no longer could be seen. At Tonopah, I turned east onto U.S. 6 and proceeded along the northern boundary of the Nevada Test Site (NTS). After passing by the entrance to the Tonopah Test Range, I noticed that road traffic became extremely sparse, almost nonexistent. It was about then that I noticed a car about a mile behind mine that never caught up with mine nor dropped behind.

This was unusual, because I was travelling at a good clip in the essentially State Trooper-free stretches around the NTS. And in my broad experience in open-spaces driving, anyone going fast enough from behind to catch up within sight was usually going fast enough to pass me before long. They don’t slow down from their previous rate and straggle behind at an exact pacing speed, unless it’s a State Trooper. This turned out to be no State Trooper. I watched the pacing for about a half-hour to be sure I had the situation correctly sized up, then thought to myself, “I think I’m being followed.” At the time, I suspected it might be some military/ Intelligence surveillance unit. I lost sight of the car as I came to the Warm Springs Junction, and I turned onto State 375.

My plan was to first stop at the Little A’Le’Inn in Rachel, 62 miles ahead, then proceed another 22 miles to the Area 51 entrance road. On this stretch I began to notice that the “car” behind me was doing strange things. As it paced a little closer behind, about a half-mile, its “headlights” could be more distinctly seen, as a single round light, as big and bright as a tight cluster of five halogen headlights on high beam would be. At times it would take short-cuts when the road curved, proceeding in a straight line instead across the desert at sagebrush-height level, and rejoining the road after the curve. At other times a second, small purplish glowing orb would accompany it, travelling parallel about 150 yards to the south, also at sagebrush level. The second orb would disappear after a while, then reappear. I would look in the rearview mirror and occasionally quickly turn my head around, to verify these “impossible” things. I knew then that it wasn’t the CIA. I then got the feeling that the extraterrestrials were giving me an escort.
I had expected the Little A’Le’Inn to be open, but it turned out dark. As a result I raced past it unawares, when suddenly a giant pure white jackrabbit the size of a collie loped across the highway just in front of my car, at an almost cartoonish gait. I slammed on the brakes and swerved to the right to avoid hitting it. As I did my gaze went to the right and I noticed the darkened Little A’Le’Inn, which otherwise I would have gone past and missed in the dark desert without landmarks. I pulled in to this bar and cafe, which serves the lower-echelon Air Force employees at Area 51, and is a veritable museum of UFO and Alien pictures and Area 51 USAF lore and insignia patches. The Inn was closed, so I peered through its windows at the displays inside. Suddenly, a German Shepherd appeared from around behind the cafe. I feared it was an aggressive watchdog, such as are common in remote Nevada establishments, although I had not previously seen a dog at the Little A’Le’Inn. To my surprise this dog was unusually friendly and greeted me like old friends, putting its head against and nuzzling me, begging for a pet. I walked out to the highway and saw the “escort” vehicle stopped about a quarter-mile behind where I had parked. By the light coming from the Rachel hamlet, I could see what was there. There was no car frame behind a set of headlights, but an extremely bright orb, as big and bright as if the front end of a semi truck were one huge intense headlight. A UFO. I said to myself how the improbable rabbit had saved me from missing the Little A’Le’Inn. I wondered whether it, and perhaps the over-friendly guarddog, were shape-shifter Extraterrestrials.

I continued towards Area 51, turning in at the famous Groom Lake dirt road entranceway, which no longer had the infamous black mailbox as a landmark. My sense of danger increased, as I drove a few hundred feet down the road. I “felt” the trigger-happy Wackenhut security guards I had run afoul of in April [Footnote 1} were there just waiting for another crack at me. I extinguished my headlights, and stopped.

Right after I parked, the anomalous escort “car”/light came down the highway, pulled into Groom Lake Road to about three hundred feet behind me, now displaying two conventional headlights. After a momentary pause, it backed up, at an extraordinary speed for reverse gear in the pitch black night, turned around, and drove west on 375 back the way it came. (It thus could give the guards from a distance the impression that the “intruder” car (me) had changed its mind about trying to go down the Area 51 road, backed up, and returned from where it had come. I subsequently reflected that that may well have been the ET’s purpose in their otherwise inexplicable maneuver, and why I was not harassed, despite the extreme security around the Area 51 perimeter.)

I got out and determined that no U.S.-made flying saucers were doing practice flights that night. Then I did a Native American prayer and pipe ceremony, asking Tunkashila, Maka Unce, and the Four Directions for protection, and to cancel the death karma emanating from Areas 51 and S-4. I was nervous about tarrying any longer because of the guards. As I started the car to leave, the “escort light” shone at my car from a new position, two miles ahead and a half-mile to the right of the Area 51 road. I felt it had been there as a protector, and became lit to show its agreement that I depart.

I then proceeded east on 375 towards U.S. 93, to complete the loop back into Las Vegas. No longer was the “escort light” behind me. But soon it started to appear about a mile ahead of me. I was going through winding road and canyons and would lose sight of it. Then a vehicle would approach from the general area where the light was last seen and drive past. I assumed that I had been mistaken about the bright light way up ahead being my UFO escort, because soon a vehicle would come from where I had seen the light. I tried to avoid making anything special out of that light. Then more anomalies started happening. I thought I saw a passing vehicle as being a panel truck. Then I noticed a tanker truck go by. Gradually it dawned on me how much traffic was developing on this deserted stretch of highway all of a sudden. I then realized the extraterrestrials could be imposing mental visualizations of a “car”on me to disguise what their craft really looked like. Only they did not bother to impose the identical visualization every time. I also realized that that means they’re ‘driving’ by me so close I could reach my arm out (if I wanted to lose it) and touch the vehicle” (disguised UFO).

I then got to a straight stretch of highway where I could see the bright light a mile ahead get closer, go out, and reappear as two headlights, and when closer, as a complete vehicle. At first, I attributed the single Light going out to a dip in the road, but when I got to a flat stretch with no dips, it became evident that the single Light extinguished itself, and reilluminated as two headlights. Once, it manifested as two tandem sets of headlights, one right on the tail of the other, but by the time the pair got near me, only one vehicle with one set of headlights came by. Also, after each vehicle went by, its “taillights” only stayed on for a quarter-mile then disappeared, long before a curve or dip in the road could explain their disappearance.

On this stretch there are no side roads and nowhere to go off-highway. I smiled, realizing that the ET’s were playing with me. Then the Light/UFO disappeared from in front of me, but soon reappeared behind me, no longer at road-level, but at about 150 feet altitude, and closing fast on me. I was at this point about adjacent to the supersecret Coyote Alpha Range, northeast of Area 51. I “felt” intensely the UFO’s intent to make contact, and asked myself, “Are you ready for an ET Encounter?” I felt afraid at first, just a little nervous, but excited. After a minute I said “Sure, why not?” However, the approaching light somehow disappeared, although I do not remember it disappearing.

After this, I continued driving, soon turning down U.S. 93 towards I-15 and Las Vegas. Driving south on U.S. 93, I had a rest from the “Light”‘s cat-and-mouse game for awhile. As I drew near to the junction with I-15, my extraterrestrial friends had one more surprise for me. (Here again is another example of how the extraterrestrials let you know in other ways that they are around.)

The big bright Light appeared a mile in front of me, about 1000 feet above the desert, about 300 yards to the left of U.S. 93. I was coming down a grade and had a long, sweeping, unbroken view of the entire desert for miles. The Light descended vertically to the level of the sagebrush tops, moved horizontally right until it lined up with the oncoming lane of U.S. 93, began moving towards me as a large single Light at surface level on the highway. At about one mile ahead of me, it changed in an instant to two conventional headlight beams, then drove past me moments later as a late-model passenger car! The ETs had shown me exactly the sequence of how they disguise a UFO as an Earth object.

I completed the return leg on I-15 to Las Vegas. The bright Light soon reappeared about a mile behind my car in my lane, as a single bright Light. Other traffic was behind it, and passed it and didn’t seem to notice anything about it. The Light followed me on I-15 all the way through Las Vegas until I took the offramp near my hotel on the far side of town.
That night I saw a swarm of “fireflies” in my bedroom and had the very strong sense of ET presence. The next morning I had some little bloody spots in my nose.

These contacts have done what I thought I had no more capacity left for, caused another quantum leap in my sense of wonder.

Source: http://www.anomalies.net/