Across the entire state of Montana, white crosses have been placed where traffic fatalities occurred.  I've seen hundreds of them in my two weeks here.  Many sites have two or three crosses, and I've seen up to six of them in a single location.  Sometimes the simple white crosses have been decorated with flowers or ribbons or dolls or toys, sometimes not.  

I have biked through three Indian reservations now, and it seems like the frequency of white crosses are much higher on the reservations.  The frequency of broken glass from beer and liquor bottles on the sides of the highway seems much higher as well.  These are just personal observations and they definitely have not been verified by a certified statistician.

I have another unscientific observation to report too.  The section of U.S. Highway 2 in eastern Montana has GOT to have the highest ratio of "Oversize Load" traffic to regular traffic in the entire nation.  I've never seen so many trucks hauling such loads as I have the last three days, and most of them are carrying farm machinery.

Now I will try to bring some cohesion to the previous paragraphs.  This morning, a big flatbed truck hauling some kind of harvesting contraption came up from behind me.  Like most cars and trucks, it moved over into the other lane a little bit for me.  When it returned to the right lane, I noticed that the contraption extended well over the right shoulder.  If a car had been coming from the opposite direction, that oversize load could not have moved over and probably wouldn't have been able to slow down very easily either.  IT COULD HAVE TAKEN OFF MY HEAD! 

Pure adrenaline might have kept me going without a head for another quarter-mile or so, but blood would have been spurting out of my neck arteries like water out of the fountains at the Bellagio Hotel.  I would have expired somewhere just short of the town of Nashua and a brand new white cross would be erected in my honor.  The very thought of such a macabre scenario got me so rattled that I started singing Warren Zevon's Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner--at least the first verse, which is all I could remember.

[UPDATE:  As I was typing this morning, I got to thinking that the oversize load paragraph is a perfect example of where my written description comes up short.  In no way does it accurately relate just how frightening it was to this bicycle tourist.  A photograph sure would come in handy right now.

Unfortunately, a photo doesn't exist.  So I did the next best thing.  As a Cycleblaze exclusive,  I commissioned a famous artist to professionally re-create the event on canvas.  (Paper?  Canvas?  What's the difference?)  Thankfully, the famous artist was able to deliver the following high-quality painting in less than an hour--a testament to his artistic genius.]

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A short while later, two cars passed me in succession.  They both were equipped with flashing lights and "Oversized Load" signage.  Then a third car slowed down beside me and the driver yelled out, "you better move over to the other side of the road . . . we have a 25-footer coming!"

I looked back to see the monstrosity that was about twice the width of the lane it was occupying.  I quickly crossed over to the other side of the highway and stopped and waited.  Seriously, it was gigantic, and I don't have the slightest clue what it was.  My best guess would be that it was part of a jumbo jet or possibly something military-related.  The flatbed had extenders on the sides to accommodate the huge object, yet the whole thing rocked wildly from side to side as it bounced down the road.