My brother and I were driving down the mountain for nearly the last time this morning. We were talking about how I needed to wash my car and replace the small reflector knocked from the front light assembly when he’d hit a deer on a foggy morning. It wasn’t major damage, but it needed fixin’. As we were having this conversation we passed very nearly the point on the road where the accident had happened. We were travelling about 40 miles an hour.
A big buck, maybe a six-pointer, came bounding down the cliff on the right side of the road and froze right in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes and dodged to the left.* The deer hit the car midway down the right fender, and his hindquarters swung around and slammed my passenger mirror into the window, breaking the glass. I got a good look at his face when it slammed antler-first into the windshield as he rolled up over the roof and was gone.
I stopped the car and glared at my poor passenger-side mirror, then looked into the driver side rearview in time to see the buck look around uncertainly and bound off down the hill. It didn’t seem fair, the son of a bitch taking a big chunk out of my car and then getting to bound, too.
Travis rolled down the window and reported a dent in the fender. At the bottom of the mountain I pulled off to the side of the road to check it out. A big dent, maybe a foot wide and eight inches high, but at least a smooth one. The elastic paint on the car had split into a series of parallel ribbons on one side but had not cracked otherwise. Maybe one of those glue-and-suction fix-a-dent kits and a little clear-coat might make it look decent until I can afford a real paint job. Don’t laugh. It could happen.
Irony: it sucks.
*–Thank you, anti-lock brakes and Porsche stability management!