‘Seared into my brain.’ SLO retiree recalls hitting deer while driving on Highway 1

I’ve recently become a member of a club nobody wants to join: I’ve hit a deer while driving on the freeway.

Judging by the number of deer carcasses lying alongside local roads, there are many drivers on this unsavory roster.

Still, the initiation was traumatic and frightening, something I hoped never to have to go through.

The event began innocently enough. We were savoring a successful four-day family reunion, where great conversations and warm fuzzies flowed as freely as the fine wines we poured during dinner.

The reunion had been two years in the planning, then postponed one year because of the coronavirus pandemic.

As a result, we were oh-so-excited to finally be together. Our expectations were exceeded at every turn.

The final night, a small group of us drove to Morro Bay for a celebratory dinner where, once again, delight and camaraderie were the norm.

Driving south on a dark stretch of Highway 1, I spotted a large, multi-pronged buck standing in the fast lane.

Fortunately I saw the buck early and was able to dramatically slow my speed. But by then the animal had turned and was walking into my lane.

I’m amazed at my clarity of thought during the following seconds.

I debated veering to the left to avoid the deer, but felt unsafe suddenly changing direction. I know deer are very unpredictable. Plus, he was making some headway toward leaving the road.

So I opted to continue braking, hoping he’d take one final leap to safety.

He didn’t.

I struck him with the right front corner of my car.

We all heard the sickening thud and felt the impact. Both sensations are now seared into my brain.

We instantly assessed the damage. Everyone was safe, the car was still running and relatively intact.

We breathed a collective sigh of relief and continued driving the short distance toward home.

The accident happened three days ago, but I still feel emotionally fragile.

I’m sorry to have harmed an animal. My car will need significant repairs.

Yet, I feel incredibly fortunate. Circumstances were definitely in my favor.

For instance, I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so I’m always the designated driver.

I was completely sober at the time of the collision. I wasn’t distracted in any manner. I was driving the speed limit. The road was dry. Traffic was non-existent, and visibility was good.

I’d hate to think of the outcome if any one of those factors had been different.

I also realize that the situation could have been far worse.

The deer didn’t leap out of nowhere. He didn’t go through the windshield. I didn’t strike him head on. And the impact didn’t total my car.

I’ve replayed the incident over in my head, wondering what, if anything, I could have done to alter the outcome.

But my answer is always the same: I made the best of a bad situation. No one was injured, with the exception of the deer.

And now I’m a new member of a most dubious club.