If you're not from around here, let me paint the scene for you a bit:
It's 6 o'clock and it's pitch black. Thank you, daylight savings time. You jump in your car and need to drive about 20 miles.
Let's add to the craziness:
You live in a rural town which means you'll have to travel rural roads which means the trees, with their massive trunks and undergrowth that are hiding the 12 point buck that is about to dent your front hood are literally 3 feet from your moving car. There is .072 seconds to react to a flash of brown fur coming at you.
Oh, and the car you're driving? It's the "second" family vehicle so you're just covered with liability insurance. Translation: A deer totals your car and he's not going to pay for you to get a new one.
So what do you do? You slide into your seat and don't turn on the heat. The heat will only make your eyelids heavy, your head drowsy. No, you must be fully alert.
The radio? Forget it. Focus. Focus.
Hands are at ten and two. You may bright light a few people because making a few people mad is worth the 8 seconds of extra light expanding around you.
Hold up. There is something reflecting up ahead at the side of the road. You know it has to be the beady black eyes of an 18 point buck. You slow down. You're barely moving when you roll past the mailbox with reflectors shining at you. Oh.
More than likely you make it to your destination unscathed.
Brent says I'm paranoid. Probably.
He says the worst that can happen is you hit the breaks [obviously you know better than to swerve, right?], and end up hitting the deer. You get a little damage. Maybe the airbags come out.
Nuh uh, says I.
I think that deer is coming through my windshield and is going to be thrashing around in the backseat, straight up Tommy Boy style. You know the scene I'm referring to, right?
I've hit a raccoon. I've hit a squirrel. I've hit a bird. But I've never hit a deer.
All this to say: please keep your eyes peeled if you're driving in this neck of the woods. :)