Here I am, well on my way to 62, and I've yet to hit a deer.
I've come close-- way too close. The county is crawling with deer, but they all seem to miss.
I once had a rather large buck jump clean over my S10. The kids and I thought we were goners, but he went right over the hood without touching.
I did have one scary event back in 1995. I was on my way out after dark and pulled up to the stop sign at the bottom of my street. Just as I was coming to a stop there was a thunk, and a body came sailing over the hood from the passenger side. I'd hit a jogger, or more precisely, I'd hit him. I got out to see if he was all right, and he was already down the sidewalk. I collected myself and drove on to my destination.
Now comes the crazy part. This happened on Monday. I was sitting in my cubicle at work on Wednesday afternoon when all of a sudden I got a cold sweat and started to shake. The memory had come back. My brain had completely blocked the incident. If you'd asked me on Tuesday, I would not have remembered. It came back in such a way that it made me feel sick. After that, I was fine.
As best as I can tell, the jogger did not see my car as it pulled up to the crosswalk. He hit it full force right at the wheel well and it launched him over the hood. For whatever reason he felt like he needed to be on his way in a hurry. Me? I can't figure out why my brain blocked the incident from my memory. It wasn't all that traumatic.
Go figure.
