In fall of 2006 I took a quarter off of college to road trip across the country in a ‘78 Winnebago with some friends. One day we are stopped out in the middle of nowhere North Dakota for a quick stretch. There is nothing but some railroad tracks and flat empty field as far as the eye can see - No animal life, no sounds of any kind. My friend and I cross the tracks and stop maybe a foot or so on the other side. We are standing there in the field looking off into the distance for a while. I decide to turn around and head back. As soon as I pivot and take a step forward a freight train wizzes past me. The wind gust pushes me back on my heals and I’m swimming my arms trying to stay on my feet. After the train passes I just stand there for a minute taking in what just happened. I turn to look at my friend and his eyes are just wide and his mouth is open. Neither of us heard or saw a train coming at all. I tell him that I think I almost just died. He just says “yeah...” We get back into the rv like nothing happened and never talk about it again. So that’s how I almost got hit by a silent train.