I got a nice 8 point buck Tuesday night.
Got it with my friend’s Buick.
First time I’ve ever road-killed a deer, in 40 years of deer-country driving. And I’ve had some miracle saves, like the time on I81 north of Roanoke, no traffic, I’m moving along at 75 mph, enjoying the radio, when my right foot seems on its own to cover the brake and then squeeze it, hard. A second later, a doe comes into view. She’s STANDING in my lane, staring at me. I stop 10 feet short of her. If I hadn’t braked before I conciously saw her, I would’ve wiped her (and my SUV) out.
I’ve got half a dozen more stories like that one. No deer has ever gotten me.
Last night, two-lane road, I’m in my toes because of the rut. Going 55 on a 65 mph stretch. Meeting an oncoming car, I lower my high beams. The fucking buck, seeing his chance, then sprinted from the left ditch, crosssed the oncoming lane, and planted himself in the my left front end. The first fhing I saw of him was a shadow in the oncoming lane, 10 feet in front of me. No chance to avoid.
I’m pissed about it. Friend’s not, though. Thankful he has comprehensive insurance.