So, this evening I was on my way home from work. I stopped at a friends house to watch the lightning storm with him in his garage. The storm split apart and I decided to head home. On my way home, the lightning storm was about 6 or 7 miles away on the Collegiate Peaks mountain range. Suddenly, my antenna on my jeep lit up like an enormous fire cracker. Both my drivers side tires blew out, I rolled into a gas station up the road. I am fine. Had to think fast as the jeep swirved a bit when the tires blew out. I still have my studded snows on so it blew two studs out.
So, a county sheriff stops by and I ask if he can give me a ride to Salida about 10 miles away. Nope, he was busy. Typical. I called my wife and she came and got me. I had to rush home because a guy from about 2.5 hours away was waiting to drive my , or his, 1967 Pontiac Bonneville home to his dad. What a busy day. I still have to go and change the tires. It is my work truck so I need it tomorrow. Guess I don't need an antenna that bad after all.
Oh yeah, a guy died from lightning last weekend on his motorcycle about an eighth mile from where I got hit.
Thanks to the Lord for keeping me alive. Not my day to pass.
