There are two kinds of weekends: the kind where you sip coffee on the porch and listen to birds chirp, and the kind where a deer body-slams your Jeep before sunrise. I had the second kind.
At 4 a.m. Saturday, I was up, bright-eyed, and determined. The plan: take my best furry friend, Winnie the Ween, and enter my first-ever car show in Rockford. I had visions of polished chrome, impressed onlookers, maybe even a ribbon. Instead, God apparently said, You wanted adventure? Buckle up.
The first 40-something miles were perfect. Then I rounded a curve, saw a fawn on the shoulder, and even said out loud: “That dumb deer is going to jump in front of me, isn’t it?” Which is basically the country-road version of saying “What’s the worst that could happen?” Sure enough, the fawn launched itself and smacked into the driver’s side of my Jeep…