Deer Crossing

This weekend I biked from Epworth to Durango and back, a distance of 24 miles on the Heritage Trail. Durango has a population of 34, making it larger than nearby Graf.

I am becoming a better cyclist, and I averaged 12 m.p.h. on the crushed limestone path without particularly exerting myself. The trail is long and rural, so there's no need to slow down or stop all the time for pedestrians like on urban trails: only occasionally. And then there's the wildlife.
This time I saw a deer leaping into the woods ahead of me, and I stopped because I heard something on the other side of the path, and deer usually travel in groups. As my friend Chuck would say, "Bambi they ain't." I would sincerely not like to get kicked by a deer.

Well, a doe and fawn broke out of the woods a safe distance ahead of me to my right, and the doe turned away from me and jumped back into the trees, but the spotted fawn, less than two feet tall, spun around and ran straight at me on my stopped bicycle. As I stared in astonishment, the fawn barely missed my front wheel, brushed my right ankle, crossed behind me, and vanished into the woods at my left.

I rode on, still feeling the sensation of deer fur against my ankle. I'm glad it wasn't the buck!