OK, this happened to my wife and I back in mid-90's up in Alaska. We had been salmon fishing (she caught the largest one-50 lb King). We were returning home to Fairbanks when we stopped at the only rest stop on the 6 hour stretch of road. (Real out-houses--Rest Stop Alaskan style) My wife goes to the outhouse while I walk the trash to the dumpster about 75 yds away. This pickup pulls in and I wave at the 3 guys in it (I'm totally in "White", aware of their presence but friendly). They drive past me to the dumpster and I walk back to the Suburban--my wife climbs into the truck and I got into the outhouse. While I'm in the outhouse, the pickup comes back--the driver jumps out, opens our driver side door and partially climbs into our Suburban--my wife plasters herself against the door--the loaded .44 is right beside her, but she is too startled to pick it up. He looks her and the truck over, then asks her, "Do you smoke?" She stammers out "No!" and he leaves and they drive off. Meanwhile, I am sitting fat, dumb and relieved in the outhouse. I climb into the truck and she relates the story to me. I think its really wierd, but I haven't had much contact with the forces of the dark side, and while my sub-conscious is trying to tell me something I'm not listening real well.
So, we take off North for home. As we drive thru the mountains there, we can see the pickup ahead of us a mile or so, but there's only ONE road, and no cell coverage, and I'm still not listening real well to that little voice..........
We are headed north, we come over a rise and see the pickup parked on the other side of the road, opposite an empty, parked vehicle on the north side, and the driver of the pickup (the same guy that climbed into our truck) walking across the road and breaking into the parked vehicle. AS I pass, I get angry and say, "I'm going to get that turkey's licence number!" So I go up, turn around and head south to get his plate. He passes by us, with him again headed north towards Fairbanks, and between the my wife and I, we get his plate. I drive to the parked vehicle and get their plate number as well, then turn around and head north again.
As we are driving along, ALL OF A SUDDEN, I get this REALLY, REALLY strong sense that "something's not right here." (fortuneately, I listened this time) I drove up over a hill and the pickup is parked next to the road waiting for us. AS soon as I saw the pickup, I floorboarded the Suburban as he pulled out in pursuit. The next 60+ or so miles go by pretty fast as I buried the speedometer of my wife's Suburban and the guys behind me chased us the rest of the way into Delta Junction, but they never made up the initial lead I got on them. I pulled into a crowded resturant and then called the State Troopers (who by the way, apparently never did any investigating, as I never received a call back).
It wasn't long after that incident that my wife and I both had our Alaska CCP and we learned some really valuable lessons about SA.