This morning I started out on my voyage south one more time back to STL, this time with my brother who needed to be dropped off back at school. Near the Dakota Dome, not thirty minutes into the trip, a buck comes streaking across the highway. I hit the brakes, narrowly missing the buck by mere feet. Now, I asked Eric's opinion and he agrees, if I had not braked the deer would have hit me. I may love the episode of Gilmore Girls when Rory gets hit by a deer, but have no desire to relive it. And I still had almost nine hours of driving left.
The rest of the trip involved long conversations with Crystal, a soggy sandwich from Hardees, the failure of my cigarette lighter/charger, and witnessing the mass exodus from STL. I70 westbound looked at nearly a standstill from Columbia onward. If an evacuation ever happens somewhere I'm traveling to, someone needs to call and let me know so I can turn around, because obviously otherwise I will just keep going.
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