Thursday, November 1, 2012
We kept ourselves awake by imagining blogging about our journey and then sending an email to the Shelby County fathers. "We realize that the two adjacent roads with the same numbers probably didn't occur during your administration. However not correcting the situation is highly negligent. Are you incompetent? Uncaring? Or just clueless?"
The full moon had gone behind the clouds and the road was dim in our headlights, but well maintained and unlike much of the roads we'd traveled, there were plenty of reflectors to mark the road's edge. Bubba's thrift obviously didn't apply to the guy in charge of the Reflector Committee. The stop lights had also dwindled to several miles apart and the speed limit was up to 55. Quantum commented on those items, then said, "But what is it with this county if even the deer are willing to commit suicide to get away from Rt. 280?"
Moments later we saw movement on the road ahead. Two more deer darted across the road in front of us. Quantum swerved and tried to slow.
The first deer made it across. His buddy slammed into the side of our truck.
There was nothing we could do but mourn. There wasn't even a nearby turn-around. And if the poor creature was alive but wounded, we didn't even have a way of putting it out of its misery.
I said a blessing on the deer's soul and we both processed the situation.
We were unhurt, if shaken. We could have rolled the truck. A vehicle behind us could have gotten involved if the road hadn't been so quiet. The dogs were okay. The cats, in their cage in the back of the pickup, would be okay, though no doubt terrified. (And already pissed off from the past few days of being stuck in the cage.)
We felt horribly guilty about the deer, though. "Gods, we were just talking about deer comitting suicide," I said.
Quantum mentioned a deer accident he and some friends had been in many years ago. "And when we went back to see what happened, the deer had gotten up and gone. And that time we were going a lot faster, so maybe this deer could have survived?"
I didn't say anything. I remembered seeing broken bits and parts scatter and fly at the impact. Though I didn't see any blood on the car in the rear-view. I'd later learn that the pieces and parts were the headlight housing smashing into oblivion, Though the headlights did still work.
Posted by Lemur at 7:39 AM