When I told him where I was heading after leaving Tropic, John from the Stone Canyon Inn suggested that I stop at the Kiva Koffeehouse just outside of Escalante, "if you like coffee" (which I do). It does serve a fine mocha, and it is also one of the prettiest spots that I can imagine to enjoy said coffee. John also suggested that, if I had the time, I stop at Calf Creek Recreation Area and do the 6-mile return hike to the lower falls. Longish (for me), but flat, apparently. It seemed like a nice change from the dryness of the rest of the landscape, so I decided I would do it. It is a lovely hike even if there wasn't the reward of the falls at the end, and well worth the effort.

By the time I was finished and back on the road, I knew I would be later getting to Torrey than I had planned. Unfortunately, my cell phone displayed the "no service" indicator almost the entire way there so I couldn't call the bed & breakfast where I had made a reservation to let them know I'd be late.

I was driving along Highway 12, a scenic byway which climbs through a series of twists and turns to an elevation of about 10,000 ft. through the Dixie National Forest. There were signs posted on the highway warning motorists of deer, and sure enough, since it was twilight, I encountered them. The first one crossed the road so far ahead of me that I didn't need to stop for it. The second decided to dart out right in front of the car so I needed to slam on the brakes. Everything that I had on the passenger seat immediately slid to the floor. The deer looked right at me as if to say, "What?!", before trotting away. A few miles later, and higher in elevation, it happened again. Deer no. 1 crossed without incident. Then there was a tremendous WHUMP and for a millisecond I saw a flash of a large deer against the driver's side window, and the driver's side mirror disappeared from view with a loud clattering noise.

I gasped and slowed the car to a stop. I looked in the rearview mirror but couldn't see the deer in the road; maybe I had just driven too far to see it anymore. I couldn't pull all the way off the road as there was no shoulder, just forest. I was afraid someone would drive up from behind and hit me too, so I drove a bit further until I saw a clearing on the opposite side of the highway. I pulled into it and got out of the car. I was in shock, and close to tears. It was almost dark, and freezing. White flakes of snow were just starting to fall from the sky.

The deer had run into the side of the car. It had hit me, not the other way around. So there was no damage to the front of the car at all. The driver's side mirror had been ripped out by the impact, though, but was still hanging from the door by a cord.

I shivered in the cold, wondering what to do. If the deer was dead or maimed and lying in the road, I didn't want to just leave it there. But I didn't know who to call. And since there was no cell reception on the mountain, I couldn't have, anyway.

One by one, people started to appear. Seeing my damaged vehicle, a couple of motorists coming from the same direction stopped to check if I was okay. Neither of them had seen a deer in the road, so at least I knew it was alive for the time being. A woman whose family was camping in the clearing came out of her tent to see what was going on. She said she had heard the impact (!) from up the road and knew it was trouble. Seeing my stricken expression, she gave me a hug and offered to give me her name and contact information in case I needed someone to back up my story when I returned the car to the rental company.

But there was really nothing to do except collect myself and get back in the car. By then it was blowing snow and getting very dark, and I drove nervously, just wanting to get to a place with heat and light and a bed. I finally got to Torrey sometime after 8 PM, and the Skyridge Inn was the most welcoming place I could imagine after such an experience. I was glad I wasn't just another anonymous guest in some motel; it helped being in someone's home with people who would actually notice whether or not I showed up that night. I made myself a cup of tea and listened to the howling wind outside, feeling warm and safe but still too wired to sleep for several more hours.