Warning: This blog is about to enter into a subject that is known by all, but not really discussed at most dinner tables. (I say 'most' because Kentucky and other southern states still exist)
A commonality between all 50 of these United States is road kill. We've all seen it, don't lie, and we all know it exists out there. In fact, I'm sure there are some of us that have even be the killer on the streets. I don't really know if it falls under one of those taboo subjects that isn't supposed to be uttered in decent society because I still remember the 'Road Kill Cafe' tshirts being worn in my high school. I feel that if it can be placed on a shirt and worn in public, amongst grandmothers and other elderly people, then it's probably okay to blog about.
When I was younger, after I learned to talk and before I knew the gruesome wrongness behind my actions, I would point things out on the side of the road and try to guess what it was. Oh, who am I kidding? I still do that. It was always a feat because most animals are of the same size, rabbit, opossum, raccoon, etc, and if you spotted anything that could be described as 'bigger than a bread box' or could be seen a car length away then it was undoubtedly a deer. That was the largest animal on Michigan streets, which, let's be honest, took some fun out of the game.
Now, I know I'm not the only person that has ever done this and I say that with full confidence because I remember being at my grandpa's house up north and we saw a group of bikers, the kind with pedals, riding past his house. One stopped, took out a camera, and photographed the squashed something or other on the pavement. My grandfather, or maybe it was my dad, asked what in the hell they were doing (logically) to which the man answered that him and his friends take all these pictures and then try to guess what they are when they all get together again.
Gruesome? Probably. Incredibly entertaining? Definitely.
I only bring this up because after living in a National Park for four years of my adult life and seeing the devastation a car can have on an animal - or vice versa- you come to realize how horrible tourist drivers really are. I'm not placing blame on any one gender or race just tourists in general. I've driven the same road for four years, I know the blind corners and abrupt turns like the back of my hand and would, if necessary, be able to drive it with my eyes closed. (Don't worry, Mom, I haven't actually tested this theory.) The other thing about living in the National Park that people don't realize is that ANIMALS ARE PREVALENT. They're out there. They live, breathe, walk, mate, birth, and all sorts of other life activities, on the roads. They're stupid. They will run in front of your car because it's their home. They won't stop because you blare the horn. A deer is skittish and when you honk at it it's going to go somewhere and that somewhere is, most often, exactly where you don't want it to go. And there aren't only deer around here. There are elk and moose and buffalo as well.
The Park Service does its best to warn everyone before they get too deep into the park about the wildlife. They have signs that state "Animals on the road means go slow that bull moose is some cow's beau" along with a HUGE lit up flashing sign that once stated "You are in Wyoming. Animals on road. Slow down" but now just says, "Hitting a 2000lb buffalo would ruin your car, it would ruin your day". They're getting a lot less subtle these days. Why is that you ask? Well, for one, people are, apparently, getting dumber because they couldn't read the other signs, for two, more animals, and cars, I assume, are getting killed than last year. In the past two weeks our only two bucks have been hit by cars and subsequently been shot by the park service. Our campground manager was incredibly upset because those bucks were born and raised in our campground last year. I used to call them the deer daycare because there was two moms with four or five babies between them. He's taken to telling people that ask about the wildlife in the area that we don't have any because of their stupidity. I think he says it a little bit nicer than that, but same idea.
Accidents happen. I said it earlier and it's true, but these deer weren't killed during the night and they just happened to run out into the street at an inappropriate time. No, these deer were killed in broad daylight on long stretches of road because the person wasn't obeying the speed limit (45mph) set in the park. Maybe it makes a difference because I remember seeing them running around, chasing each other and blocking the sidewalk to my room. Maybe they stop being just deer and turn into over grown pets. You can't pet them or feed them or ride them, but you watch them grow up and they weasle their way into your heart. I don't know what it is but these people need to pay attention, stop staring at the mountains while they drive, and slow down. Three easy and simple things to stop killing my untouchable pets. Now, I'm not saying watch out for all animals skittering across the road. Don't break for rabbits or squirrels or raccoons because that's dangerous to you and it takes away a large amount of my favorite car ride activity, but just watch out for the big ones. Bambi isn't just a cartoon no matter how many times you've seen it.
