AD's latest attempt at hunting with a truck reminds me of the joy that is living in the oddity that is the Sandpoint area.
Friday night, due to the wonder of the internets, I found myself running errands at 11pm. 10:50 being about the time Chris exclaims "oh shit, that's why! I'm vitamin deficient!" and 10:55 being the time I determine it's much faster and less irritating for me to go to Wally World then instead of before work in the morning.
Yes, our county of 40K in the middle of North Idaho has a 24/7 Wally World. Yes my bank is open on Saturdays, we're the only bank in town that is. But I digress.
So I climb into the caddy and head out into a night so dark I can't see past the end of the driveway. There's deer and moose and elk in the neighborhood, so I don't drive outside of my headlights. There's drunks leaving the various bars in downtown Sandpoint, so I don't speed up when I get into town.
I pick up the stuff for Chris (which miraculously works) and make my way home. About a mile from Wally World I stop completely on Hwy 200 while a fat whitetail doe and her two fat fawns stroll across the highway (not dart, stroll). Our wildlife expects us to stop for them.
Chris: What took you so long? You should have been home 15 minutes ago.
Me: You forgot about deer time didn't you?
Chris: Oh, you hit a deer?
Me: Nope, it was AVOIDING hitting the damn deer that took so long.
We've gone from an area where the excuse for being late was "traffic" to the middle of North Idaho, where the excuse is "deer".
Still a really good move.
