Saturday I danced with a deer, and fortunately, neither of us ended up any worse for the wear.
I was riding up CR 26 from South Pittsburgh TN towards Sewanee at dusk. I knew there were deer in the area; I'd already seen one loping up towards the road and sent it scurrying back into the woods with my horn.
I was buzzing along at about 55 MPH when I saw the deer next to the road, about two seconds ahead. The deer saw me no sooner than I saw it. It tensed and looked like it planned to do the dumb thing: run across the road rather than back into the forest.
Two seconds is not a long time, and my response was purely on auto-pilot. I remember looking at my speedo and rolling back to 50 MPH, ready to slow down or speed up based on what the deer did. I began moving to the left lane (there was no oncoming traffic) so put some space between me and the deer. I never even considered braking, which would probably have resulted in a disaster even if I did not hit the deer. Two seconds is not a long time, but it seemed to last an eternity.
As I was doing all this, the deer readied to dart in front of me. As I veered away from it, it seemed to have second thoughts about its path, and tried to change course just as I was even with it. Above the sound of elbandido's engine, I hear the sound of hoofs clopping on the pavement as it stumbled a bit and then decided the path behind me was clearer.
In my rear view mirrors, I saw the deer find its footing and dart across the road in front of Terry's bike, and then we were clear of it.
Without even thinking, I let out a whoop, left fist in the air, and felt like I had just completed level 99 of a very difficult video game-- choose the right path and avoid the killer deer.
The rest of the ride was uneventful, as we passed what looked to be hundreds of acres surrounded by beautiful new redwood pasture fencing.
I was already planning on my request for hazardous duty pay for leading the ride. On our way out of Sewanee, I warned off one deer. CR 56 down the mountains into Alabama was a great ride, with roads that circled like a pinball down the drain, made more complex by periodic signs stating, "Warning! Slide Area Ahead." Of course, the slide area, a section of road that had slumped off the mountain edge and had been replaced by a stretch of loose gravel, came at the end of a series of very tight curves where it could not be seen more than a few yards in advance. (Other warnings of slide areas turned out to be false alarms, but it still made me a little tense, anticipating more loose gravel in the middle of a turn.)
When we finally reached the road's end and came to a stop, I asked Terry if he'd noticed what I saw. He said, "The deer?!" I replied, "What deer? You're telling me you didn't notice about a million dollars in brand new fence back there?"
But I never want to hear the clapping of hooves on the blacktop that closely again.
Topic: Have you ever danced with a deer by the pale moonlight? (Read 2999 times)