Yesterday afternoon Sid and I piled into the car and drove to Spokane to see a rock show. It was 1:30 AM Missoula time when we initiated the drive back; by the time I dropped him off and walked through the front door at my house it was 4:30 AM. It had been a twelve hour trip, and I was beat. Well worth it, though.
What I’m grateful for is that we arrived home safely. The roads were clear and dry, and the weather was fine. I don’t worry about my driving, or even knowing when to stay on the road and when to pull off to get some rest. I worry about all the wildlife that share that corridor through two mountain passes and some otherwise thinly inhabited land. I don’t even much like driving the twelve miles or so home from Missoula after dark for the same reason. There’s not a lot to be done when fate brings a critter and even a conscientious driver together, though, unfortunately.
But we made it back no worse for the wear, with no untimely encounters with deer, elk (we saw some on the way over, though), moose, or anything else that draws breath.