I was driving home from work last night on Interstate 81 (aka The Devil’s Parkway), and some shit went down.
I was in the right lane, doing about 65 mph, and there was another car in the left lane, slightly ahead of me, doing about the same speed. My exit was only about a half-mile away, and I was listening to The Adam Carolla Show through the car speakers. The episode was winding down, and I was amazed how perfectly timed it always seems to be. I can’t tell you how often I’ve pulled into my driveway as the end-of-show music starts playing, even though every episode is a different length and I always listen to as much as possible at work. My life is now calibrated to Carolla-time, it seems.
And there was a sudden disturbance in The Force. I don’t know if I saw it at first, as much as felt it. The car in the left lane made an erratic move, and his entire front end exploded. It dipped way down in the front, and crap was flying everywhere. WTF??
For a second or two I didn’t know what was going on, and went into crisis mode. I took my foot off the gas, which created a slightly increased distance between me and the other car, and my goal was to now maneuver in some way that would limit the amount of trauma that was surely coming.
Then I saw a deer the size of a Shetland pony roll off the passenger side of the other guy’s hood. I had to swerve to miss it, and drove through an airborne debris field. Something heavy and metallic bounced off the roof of my car (a headlight? a dashboard?), and my tires were crunching over glass and metal on the pavement. Then I was clear.
All this happened in an instant, of course, and I was operating on pure, uncut instinct. I looked in my rearview and the dude was in the process of powering down, and so were others behind him. The front end of his car was thoroughly and very much fucked. Smoke was now pouring out. Holy hell!
It was dark, so I pulled into a Sheetz convenience store to take a look at my vehicle underneath the bright lights. The tires seemed to be OK, and so did the roof – even though it sounded like a cannon ball bounced off it. But the front was covered in deer fur. How weird is that? I didn’t hit the thing, but I guess that cloud of stuff I drove through was roughly 50% deer?
About ten minutes later the adrenalin spike wore off, and I had to self-medicate with a three-scoop bowl of Tin Roof Sundae ice cream, with Hershey’s syrup. Like a pudgy spinster executive assistant.
Holy poopballs, Batman! That thing had presumably crossed the southbound lanes of I-81, climbed a steep hill, and was headed across the northbound lanes. NOT a good plan. Isn’t there some kind of deer council, led by the elders, to advise against such actions? It’s a wonder I didn’t roll my ludicrous little wind-up car out there, and/or shit the headliner.
Have you ever hit a deer, or some other kind of animal? I think Steve hits one every six week or so(?!), but so far I’ve been lucky. They’ve darted in front of my car before, giving me a low-grade heart attack, but I’ve never actually made contact with one. Please share your stories, if you have any good ones.
In fact, feel free to tell us any interesting tales of mayhem you’ve witnessed on the road. Use the handy WordPress comments feature provided here completely free of charge.
And I’ll see you guys again soon. Have a safe and disturbance-free weekend and holiday.
I’ll be back on Monday or Tuesday.