The sun was just setting as we drove down the backside of Airport Hill and toward Sunday Creek. The Suburban has such a nice suspension system, that before I knew it, I was cruising along at about 78 miles/hour. The car in front of me started to slow down about 12 miles out of town, so I followed suit. Benjamin was asking me where Daddy was, so I was explaining that Daddy had just landed in Denver and that it was a wobbly flight. About that time, I looked down to turn the heater off, noticed I was going about 65, and when I looked back up, there was a mama deer and her yearling crossing the road.
Yep. I did it. I hit a deer with the new Suburban and knocked out the grille, bumper, and a fog light and who knows what all underneath. I stopped to check on it, but nothing was leaking from the radiator, or the engine, so we proceeded to drive the rest of the 25 miles home, following Mom and Dad at a speed of about 60. No more deer, no more wrecks.