As is customary, I found some time over the holidays and slipped down to Stewart, Alabama (which is basically just a name on a map – and nothing more), to go hunting one afternoon. I came back with more than I bargained for.
The weather has been horrible since the Fall, so I didn't expect to see anything – and didn't. It was dark when I came out, a little foggy and trying to rain. I got in the truck and started heading home.
Now, it used to be that when you went hunting, you were pretty much disconnected from the wider world out there. That's not the case anymore. But since chattering away on the phone is not conducive to seeing game while you're in a blind, I did have to catch up on a couple of phone calls. I opened a can of soda, took a sip and tucked it in between my legs, fished my cellphone out and called my dad back.
I pulled onto the narrow little country road that runs up to the main highway. I grew up running these backroads. So I tend to drive too fast on them. And this night was no exception. And it had been raining.
The details of the conservation aren't important – although I will say that it involved family-related holiday stuff and I was having to explain to him for the umpteenth time that I, you know, actually have a life.
So, we were having a delightful time chatting when a pair of headlights crested the hill in front of me. I had my high beams on, so, instinctively, I took my hand off the steering wheel to flip the dimmer stalk. At the same instant, I realized the oncoming car was over in my lane – Probably because this idiot is
