Utah road safety officials ardently persuade us not to drink and drive, and of late, a more deadly combination is thought to be using our cell phones while driving. Perhaps they will re-write the book of stupid things one can try to do while driving, and I can give them a step by step process of those crazy options. My drive to Nephi from Salt Lake started in the leisure way I take most road trips, other than last week. I was south bound on I-15 and about a half mile away from the Nortonville overpass when I spied three would be terrorists bobbing their heads up and down on the overpass, watching each vehicle that came by. I couldn't see if they had assault weapons behind the cement structure, but I had a bad gut feeling as I drove closer. My first option was to call 911, but I froze and forgot their number. I tried to remove my cellulite phone from my front pocket  but couldn't get it out because of my own cellulite. With a free hand I was able to reach in the back seat and retrieve the Jones family assault rifle, which was used in Nortonville during the late 1800's. Back then it was an assault type weapon called the "Nortonville Neutralizer". I could load 12 bullets in that long barrel Winchester 25-35 just as I went by the overpass. With another free hand, I rolled down the window to listen for any shots but heard none. With another free hand I was able to shut my 8 track off and take a shot of whiskey to get my courage up. In addition, I guarantee it is not easy to drive with your left knee then use the right knee to downshift. I was able to make the Nephi turn off and rounded the bend past Merle Mac's feeding yard without Rex Hill or Ray Jackson seeing me run through that Stop sign. I sped by where the old Nortonville Church/School stood; looked to see if I could see Alan Tolley milking his cows. I also checked the right side to see if I could see George Tolley, and couldn't see him but did take a gander at his granary and corral and the nearby horses that were feeding on something. I sped up Nortonville Center Street but slowed as I approached the area of where the believed terrorist had positioned themselves. It was then I spotted the three suspects and realized my 68 year old eyes were not as young as they used to be. Rather than spook them, I turned around and departed. The three thought-to-be-culprits were deer that had came down to feed on the hay that George Jackson had threw off for his horses. Although the fish and game folks don't like us feeding deer as it throws them off their natural instincts to fight for food- I don't think we want to see the starvation of thousands of deer that died in the barbed wired fences during the bad winter of 1983-84 while trying to get to their winter range. It is sad to see the old winter ranges of upper Draper, Bountiful, Lehi and Highland now gone. Just a personal opinion, but seems to me those home owners have killed more deer than all hunters combined. I guess I should unload my rifle now.