So this past weekend I went to Vegoose (a post regarding this event will shortly follow). We returned not so bright, but very early from Vegas.
The drive was great. I took over in Filmore at about 4:00 a.m. The drive was great. Not too many cars. I didn't feel tired at all and I was enjoying a medley of Regina Spektor, Frou Frou, The Ditty Bops and Imogen Heap. I saw about 3 dead deer off to the side of the road but didn't think much of it... I mean this IS Utah, right?
At about 5:15 or so, just as I am passing Santaquin, I spot yet another dead deer in the middle of the road. My mind starts making all these clicking sounds as though there is a series of processes occurring in my brain.
Process #1 - I could swerve... this didn't seem like such a good idea because I would have to swerve off the road, as there was someone in the other lane, and because I was going over an overpass swerving off to the side of the road would cause me to corinne over hte edge, which is not cool.
Process #2 - Change lanes. I did this before with deers 1-3, but since someone was in the other lane this was not so much an option.
Process #3 - Slam on the breaks and hope for the best. This did not seem like a good thing to do on a freeway.
Process #4 - Straddle the deer and try to drive over the thing. Although this did not seem logically possible (nor did it seem like a good idea) I hoped it would work and I went for it.
Process #4 was the winner. There was a very loud sound of scraping, which I thought was the deer being sanded into oblivion by the rough asphalt, so I pulled over. As I get out I immediately smell the stink of deer mixed with the "stench of death," as I described it.
I look under the car and see what looks like a round metal box. I feel it to see if I can push it, but it is fastened tight (and covered in deer-ness). This round metal box is also called a gas tank and mine was pulled off by the running over of the deer.
About 45 minutes and a few phone calls later, a tow truck arrives to tow us to "the nearest qualified location," which is not as cool sounding as it seems. He gets my Honda onto the back of his tow truck and Mike (my brother), Alex (my friend) and I (me) crowd into the cab of this tow truck and head on our way to "the nearest qualified location."
All-in-all I everything is okay. It sucks that it happened, becuase I don't have a job right now, but I think that the words of Launchpad McQuack ring true - "Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing." I'm just happy that I didn't swerve and cause us to flip and burn in a fiery furnace.
As for the deer; I walked back to see if I needed to move it off the road (since the previous driver didn't) but the only way I would've been able accomplish this is if I had a shovel and I didn't have one of those. Parts of him remain on my car (which I hope "the nearest qualified location" enjoys, but I will always thank him for not killing me and those I hold dear.
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