On Monday morning when the alarm clock launched the radio I was brought into the world with a story about a couple on a Harley who slid their motorcycle 300 feet in an attempt to avoid a whitetail deer. In my half awake, mostly drifting state I still had the presence of mind to question the details of the event. And wonder about riding strategies for deer.
Deer are everywhere here. Everywhere. And despite their tendency to move more at dusk and dawn, they can be found bounding across the road at anytime of day. Anytime. The rider claimed he had to slide the bike to avoid the deer. Is sliding the best option for avoiding deer? And how fast do you need to be going to slide a Harley Davidson motorcycle 300 feet?
By the time I was riding to work my brain was still chewing on the story, turning the details over and over and pondering a few more questions. Knowing the road and location where the accident happened, a place where I have seen dozens and dozens of deer, why would a motorcycle be traveling at said velocity at 6:17 p.m. — a prime deer traffic time? And in one of those moments of clarity I dropped the mental inquiry realizing it was as pointless as asking why someone rides without a helmet or any other choice that varies from my own. We each are endowed with the power of making our own choices. Managing the risk of wildlife collisions is part fate and part rider choice. I like to focus on choices.
The remainder of the ride to work was spent thinking about how people manage the risks involved with deer, or wildlife of any kind. A recent inquiry from a reader in Australia detailed the lasting effects of an unfortunate encounter with a wallaby. Deer, groundhog, dog or wallaby — you don’t want to have encounters.
To be completely honest, I couldn’t come up with many strategies related to deer. If I had to list the biggest risk I face as a rider it would be Bambi. I feel comfortable that the speeding drivers, cellphone users, and incompetent motorists can be fairly managed. But my doe-eyed friends, they are unpredictable. Sort of like the guy who has a heart attack just as he is about to pass you and suddenly you have a head-on encounter with destiny. So with the heart attack and the deer all I can come up with is to slow down, learn the type of environs that deer like to use to cross a road, and pay fierce attention during the times of day that deer are most active. Oh, a remember during hunting season all bets are off. The deer are making mad dashes until the guns grow silent.
Thinking about the 300 foot slide, one hundred yards of Harley inspired sparks, that’s impressive. Thankfully the rider and his passenger survived and were taken to a local hospital when they could be treated and hopefully ride another day.
Riding across the farm lane on the way to work where the dazzling sunlight in the open fields provides expansive visibility and few places for all but the most determine deer to hide I felt reasonably safe and unlikely to do much wildlife induced sliding.
But how do other riders manage or rationalize their choices regarding riding behavior in the face of wildlife obstacles? Maybe there’s something I can learn.
