Growing up amidst the Wisconsin mountains might seem dull to many kids, but that perception often stems from the prevalent fixation on screens in today’s youth. I can relate—I was absolutely committed to achieving tenth prestige in Call of Duty: Black Ops 2 at its peak, and when I discovered “Breaking Bad,” I couldn’t help but binge-watch all five seasons. However, as I transitioned into adulthood, I came to the realization that my reliance on instant gratification was excessive. Thus, in recent years, I’ve actively distanced myself from technological entertainment, a practice I refer to as technology detoxification. You know, deleting social media, actually using the “Screen Time” feature on my iPhone, getting back into book reading, stuff like that. Of course, I acknowledge that not everyone is “addicted” to their phones and computers, but it seems to be the norm for most people.
Part of the reason I chose to do this emerged from when my father first started taking me on our winter hunting trips. Around 6 years ago, he purchased an old cabin nestled in the heart of nature to provide a refreshing escape from the hustle and bustle of the modern world. Devoid of electricity, it stands as a serene sanctuary, offering solace from the distracting demands of daily life. The cabin is a tranquil haven, filled only with the essentials—books, board games, a fireplace, and cooking supplies. Some may find it boring, but there’s something special about reading a book all day next to the fire and then spending the night roasting marshmallows, looking at the stars. You can see every star known to mankind out there. And I grew a love for it.
Unfortunately, the hunting itself has begun to wane on me a bit. Over the years, my enthusiasm for the hobby has diminished as I’ve accepted the reality that the sport primarily involves sitting in the cold for extended periods; if I am fortunate enough to shoot at something, there’s the added frustration of usually missing, and our trophy runs away. I’m grateful that my father possesses great patience because, had I been in his shoes where my partner blew almost every opportunity for a kill, I would have stopped inviting company on my trips long ago.
For a while, I contemplated how I would break it to my father that I actually wanted to pass on the hunting this year around and would rather just hang out at the cabin for a couple of days, but I changed my mind after being accepted to college. I didn’t want to turn down what could potentially be our final hunting trip together. So, in late October when my father mentioned our annual trip over dinner, I happily accepted. Our town is situated quite remotely, but our hunting expeditions take us to places that even mountain men would deem as ‘the middle of nowhere.’
Earlier today as we drove, the road unfolded before us, winding through the Wisconsin mountains, ablaze with winter hues. The tires hummed against the asphalt, and the truck’s engine provided a steady backdrop to our conversation inside. The occasional farmhouse punctuated the landscape.
“Dad, don’t get me wrong—I’m looking forward to college,” I said, stealing a glance at him, who remained focused on the road. “But it’s just… different, you know? I’ll miss this place. The quiet, the simplicity. I’m going to miss it.”
The truck passed through another stretch of road, surrounded by the whiteness of fresh snow. The truck shifted slightly across the road’s centerline as we passed a dead deer on the road. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia, knowing that this familiar scenery would soon be a distant memory.
Dad nodded, his facial expression reflecting understanding. “It’s a big change, kiddo. But change can be good. You’ll adapt, and you’ll find your way.” As the truck climbed a hill, offering a breathtaking view of the mountains, I pondered his words, but a sense of reluctance lingered beneath the excitement.
“It’s just such a big change to move out on my own. I feel like it’s all I’ve been waiting for my entire life, but now that it’s here I’m starting to get nervous.” “Haha yeah, that’s perfectly normal. The secret is that everyone feels that way, like they don’t know what they’re doing. And we all fake it for a while until the pieces start to fit together, and we can only pray we haven’t already made some major mistakes by that point.” I stared out the window. Silence sat between us for a few minutes as a song on the radio softly hummed.
“I had a hard time deciding what classes to take,” I admitted. “I want to jump right in with taking fifteen credits, but I’m probably going to need a job, and I would rather regret not taking too many credits than having taken too many. So, I’m only taking twelve this time around, but they’re not super easy courses so I think they’ll keep me busy. I tried to choose some I think I’ll really enjoy so I can find out early on what kind of major I should aim for.”
My father nodded, an approving look on his face. He stroked his long, brown beard and then cleared his throat. “Sounds like a good plan. College is about discovering your passions. And who knows, maybe you’ll find something you’re really passionate about.”
As the truck descended into a valley, the landscape shifted once again. The truck again swerved to the left as we passed another deer lying on the roadside.
“What are your plans for dating once you get there? Do you think you’re going to test the waters a bit, or jump right in and search for that special someone?”
A lot of guys would tense up at such a question from a parent, but I was closer with my dad than anyone. We had talked about anything and everything under the sun at least three times over, and conversations with my dad had always proven to be of great help to me through life. He was just so wise, so understanding, a man I could only hope to become. I’m an only child, which has more pitfalls than advantages, but having my dad all to myself is one of my favorites.
“I’m probably going to date for fun at first. I don’t want to go into dating with super high hopes that every dinner or movie will lead to something grandeur afterward. I feel like if I’m not searching for a relationship, I can just enjoy the experience of dating for a while and not stress as much”.
Dad let out his deep chuckle, glancing at me for a moment with the glistening blue eyes that had once won my mother in his favor. “Well, you’re miles ahead of where I was at your age. When I was a young sprout starting to date, I felt more like a lion hunting for antelope than a man looking for a mate. I was easily convinced, too quick to jump to conclusions.”
He paused.
“You’ll do fine, you know. Just be yourself. College is a time to meet new people, but you’re right in that you shouldn’t rush into anything. Focus on your studies and enjoy the experience. The right person will come along when the time is right.”
I nodded and looked back out the window. The drive from our house to the cabin was long, well over an hour, so I was beginning to nod off when the truck suddenly began slowing down. I looked out to see a deer lying in the center of the road. “Have you noticed all these deer on the road today?” I asked. “Yeah, just that time of year when they all decide to come roaming about I suppose. Poor thing. How about we move it off the road, huh?” “Sure,” I responded.
He put on the brake, and we leapt out, walking quickly so that we could get off the road as soon as possible. I moved towards the head so that if it were a buck I could grab it by the antlers, and if not, I would be able to grab it by the base of the neck. Dad would be grabbing it by the hind legs which is the heavier side.
Now, I think most people know what a dead deer looks like after having been hit by a car. They just lie there, usually eyes open. This deer did not look quite that peaceful. Its head was bludgeoned, hardly recognizable. If it were warmer out, it surely would’ve been covered in flies. I held my breath to avoid taking in any smells and grabbed the deer by the neck, and we pulled it off the road. Once back in my seat, I huffed out a “that thing was in bad shape.” “I’ll drive a little more slowly from here on,” dad replied. We started driving again, and although I knew we had been driving for a good while now, I couldn’t recognize where we were because everything looked the same. The road was long and straight with walls of evergreen trees on both sides.
As we drove, my dad’s eyes stayed locked on the road looking for any sign of movement. The 2017 Dodge Ram we were sitting in was a little treat he had bought for himself just under a year ago. Our truck before it was a Chevy from the ’90s, and I was relieved when that hunk of junk finally gave out on us. This Dodge still looked new with not a scratch on it, and it was obvious that while dad does have a respect for the forest animals, not hitting any also meant his truck would stay pristine.
We continued passing several other dead deer along the way. I could tell we were starting to get close to the cabin when I saw something move on the road up ahead. I pointed it out to my father, and he slowed down to a slow 20 mph. “Yup, that’s a deer alright. Good thing you spotted it.” In an attempt to startle the creature away, he blared the horn and accelerated slightly.
However, what happened next was the wildest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
The deer turned towards us and stared for a moment.
And then it began charging us, faster than I’ve ever seen a deer move in my life.
Dad hit the brakes but before they could take full effect, the colossal buck hurled its head with incredible force, colliding headlong into the hood of our truck. The entire vehicle shook and lurched backwards. If it weren’t for the grill guard on our front bumper, our truck would have become as almost as decimated as the deer was. Blood splattered the front of our windshield, and our tires came to a screeching halt. My dad and I sat for a moment in shock.
Across the dash, I could tell that the once pristine front of our truck now bore the grim evidence of the unexpected encounter. The deer lay motionless on the road, its antlers tangled in the twisted metal of the grill guard.
“Are you okay?” My father asked me, breaking the eerie quiet that enveloped us.
I blinked a few times, trying to process what had just happened. “Yeah, I’m fine. That was… unexpected.” He let out a nervous chuckle, though his voice betrayed a lingering sense of disbelief.
We carefully stepped out of the truck, and a surreal scene unfolded before us. The massive buck, now bleeding and battered, lay in the middle of the road, head stuck against the hood. Dead autumn leaves, painted with the hues of a fading sunset, formed a contrasting backdrop to the gruesome mess.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” he muttered, still trying to comprehend the bizarre turn of events.
My father approached the deer cautiously, assessing the damage to both the creature and our truck. The once majestic antlers now looked like a cruel twist of fate, entangled with the metal of the grill. The truck’s hood bore the brunt of the impact, a testament to the force of the deer’s charge.
“We should probably call someone,” my dad suggested, pulling out his phone. “Maybe the local authorities or a wildlife service. They’ll know what to do.”
I didn’t expect us to have service out here, but sure enough, our phones still had one bar. As he made the call, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and sorrow. The creature that moments ago had been charging at us now lay defeated, a tragic casualty of an unforeseen collision.
The authorities advised us to wait for a wildlife officer to assess the situation, ensuring that the deer was not suffering unnecessarily. In the meantime, my dad and I stood by the side of the road, the damaged truck behind us, and the white mountains stretching out in the distance in the darkness.
“So much for a normal hunting trip,” my dad remarked, a wry smile on his face. “Guess we got more excitement than we bargained for.” I could see a small hint of sadness behind his eyes as he looked at his truck, but I also knew that he wouldn’t let it ruin our trip.
The wildlife officer arrived shortly, equipped with the necessary tools to handle the situation. Together, we carefully disentangled the deer’s antlers from the grill guard, and the officer confirmed it was dead. “This is the sixth time we’ve been called for a deer collision last night alone. Not sure why, best guess is a mass migration through the area we haven’t picked up on yet. I might as well sleep in my truck out here at this point, and put a few signs up too. Don’t want it to get any worse. Anyway, glad to see you two are okay” he said.
Dad replied “Well, we appreciate you coming out here. It was weird, this deer just took a look at us, saw us honking, and charged. But not in a threatened kind of way, like it wasn’t trying to defend itself… it just charged us with this terrified look on its face.”
“Yeah, that’s what the other’s said. Sometimes they get confused as to which direction to run. They’re not the smartest creatures you know.”
I just hopped back in the truck while my dad and the officer wrap up their conversation. I downloaded reddit to see if this kind of stuff has happened before, and I did just read a few disturbing things that sound familiar. One story about deer going crazy in a small Oregon town, another story about a deer getting on its back legs and drowning itself, just crazy stuff. Apparently there’s something spreading in Yellowstone called “Chronic waste disease”, so maybe that’s connected somehow. I thought I’d post here before we leave cell phone range.
I’ll give you guys an update after our hunting trip is over.