I have lived in New Hampshire for over thirty years. This morning, I “did” something I’ve never done before in all that time. Driving at highway speed, I hit a deer!
Doe!
It was. A doe. She is no longer with us. She passed in the culvert next to 101 in Amherst shortly after the incident.
And I’m sorry, venomous lefties, but I’m fine. Not a scratch. Barely an elevated heart rate. I may have used some adult language during impact, but nothing I wouldn’t use to describe what passes for “reporting” on the nightly news (which I have not watched for years).
Police report (less than five minutes), insurance (slightly longer call), repairs (pending), and a rental – my car still runs, so I won’t (did not) need a tow truck. But the front end is all Hinkey. It has some new and not exactly improved air-intake capability. Headlights and turn signals work.
All in all, the vehicle handled the impact well. Flying plastic bits of trim looked impressive (they’re in my trunk now).
She emerged from behind a large truck in the oncoming lane, and I had nowhere to go and a fraction of a second to not go there. Someone is “taking care of it.” The euphemism for we got a guy who takes ’em when you hit ’em.
Enjoy.
I still need to arrange a rental and drop the car off after work, but I wanted to take a moment to share. It’s not every day I hit a deer or any day, until today.
So, say goodbye to BAM!bi, and that money I’d have spent on something else (the deductible).
Boom! Gone!
