What a doggone great day it was, and I was heading down the shoulder of our beautiful coast highway, faithful Goober at my side—actually right in front of me on the shoulder, because Goober is aware that walking at my side next to a highway is really dumb—when I heard a vehicle approaching. Not unusual, right? Wrong, Assumption Breath!* For I was about to meet one of those nearly mythical characters that passes through the middle of the end of the continent now and then.