Tragedy on the Road to Cima
Scout camp was great. Made all my personal goals and was able to spend some time with my son. But first I had to get there.
Tuesday I made the long drive to El Rancho Cima. The journey started from Lake Jackson when I got off at 5:30. Everything had been packed in my truck so there was no need to go home first. Stopped in West Colombia and bought some road food as well as a few treats for my son. He likes those sour gummies and designer jelly beans. So I fixed him up. From there I took highway 36 all the way to I-10. Stopped at Columbia, for a What-A-Burger break and gas. If you have never eaten a What-A-Burger you are missing out. In High School I worked at one these restaurants and their burgers are super. Thier pepper is very good, which enhances the beef’s flavor. Good stuff. Left Columbia around 8:30 and continued on I-10 until I got to Luling and cut across some farm roads to head over to San Marcos.
Turned north out of San Marcos and it was really dark. I’m thinking the camp’s sign is going to be hard to spot. Sure enough I missed it. Neatest thing was I saw a full grown doe on the side of the road. She had to be four feet tall at the shoulder and the deer blended in well with the surrounding woods. Luck allowed me to make out her outline. She was a pleasant though as I drove 20 miles passed the gate before I finally confirmed that I missed the entrance. Texas roads can be long before you hit the next intersection. I figured when the road quit at a T-intersection that I had gone too far. Well I could have gone farther but the community across from the road’s end had a big gate and a security building.
So I turned around and the Scoutmaster calls to see if I’m still coming. I assure him that I am and he is surprised that I overshot the place so much. So I’m driving along looking for the damn gate and then this fricking huge ass truck speeds up on my ass. I got no choice, petal to the metal or I my Chevy Avalanche is going to be his hood ornament. So I zooming along for the next couple of miles, praying for a place to pull over. Finally, there is an intersection to the right and I pull over. Bastard turns there. I’m worried in my fear of being plowed over that I passed the camp, but I don’t want to turn back yet. Again!
So I’m heading south and after a while I’m near where I spotted the deer. And it’s a sad sight. There’s a doe, probably the one I saw before. She’s lying on the side of the road. I see her breathing, but I can tell there is nothing I can do. It had to be a big truck that hit her. There’s no road debris. Just a dying deer and nothing I can do. All that sadness in just the few seconds that I passed her.
Finally, I find the gate. Scoutmaster calls again and helps me reach our campgrounds. I get parked and the Scoutmaster and another dad meet me and help me carry in the gear I’ll need for the night. But the deer remains in the back of my mind. Makes it hard to sleep and I reflect upon her a lot during the week.
