I was doing about 65mph coming home from a two-hour coastal Oregon road trip in the middle of the night last week. The road was beautiful - tall forests on either side, the nearest car miles away, the nearest town 20 miles away. The dense fog and the trees flying over the top of the windscreen reminded me why I loved that car so much. Something told me I should pull over and put the top up.
At about 10:30 coming across the coastal mountain range, an animal that looked like some sort of Sasquatch ran at full sprint out of the forest, slammed into my car and bounced across the fender and drivers door. Luckily for me, there was not a second to brake or swerve. He ran as fast as a gazelle and was built like a tank. I still have visions every night about seeing that animal come into view in that tiny windshield and how fast he was moving - that huge red muzzle towering over the hood, slowly looking towards me as if he saw me as prey and wanted to get me out of my car. I can't imagine he lived much longer after hitting the 2800lb piece of metal doing 65mph.
At the moment of impact, I knew the Z was done. It was loud like the sound of a car accident if you've ever had the unfortunate opportunity to hear a car accident. It's a sort of loud popping sound. The airbag went off. It obstructed the windscreen so I could not tell if I was going straight. I slammed on the brakes, held the wheel straight and eventually came to a stop as smoke filled the cabin and obstructed the view of anything outside. I remembered there's no town for miles and no car in sight and started to think the car was on fire. I couldn't tell where the smoke was coming from. I panicked and picked up my phone to call 911. Somehow I managed to get out some words, but remember not having a clue what to do. I felt helpless. I didn't know where to tell the operator I was and I didn't know if I should stay in or get out. There was clearly an injured adult black bear outside. I was waiting for some large silhouette or several to start moving around my car waiting for me to get out. The “prey” scenario in retrospect seems ridiculous, but in the moment, I was not in a state of mind to think it too crazy. And those roads at night can be very scary places when you’re alone in a broken two-seater roadster. Eventually, the smoke subsided and I realized it was only the gas inside the airbag. I walked out of the car and peered down the dark abyss of a road. I knew somewhere down that road, there was either a really dead bear or a really delusional bear. That's when I could get a good look at the damage. Shaking too much to hold the phone, that's about when sadness started to overcome fear. The headlight of the car I loved so much was shoved up against the strut tower. Fluids covered the asphalt. The steering rack wasn't really a steering rack any longer. There was a dent the size of a soccer ball in my strut tower. I didn't even bother to start adding up the cost of all the BMW plastic that was gone.
Eventually after a few minutes, some headlights appeared on the horizon. I stood in the middle of the road trying to wave them down. They could see I was scared as I tried to convince them I hit a bear. But Ali and her family in that big, safe-from-a-bear Subaru Outback gave me much hope in humanity that night. They stayed with me and helped me through the whole ordeal. Several police SUVS showed up. At first they tried to figure out if I was drunk which is apparently a much more believable story given my confused 911 call. But from my state of mind and the mud on the side of the car which I was informed was actually fecal matter from the force of the impact, they quickly knew I wasn’t under any sort of influence. One of the officers had an AR-15 style rifle strapped to his chest and he asked where the impact happened. I pointed down the dark road and he went down there with his flashlight. As I was talking to the other officer, I hear the crack of the rifle come from the side of the road. I knew what had happened. The bear had been suffering badly.
The talk now became about where the bear was coming from because local authorities needed to track these animals. I hung out with the officers for a few more minutes and they were kind enough to give me a ride back to Portland. In their 30 years on the force, they never had anyone hit a bear with their car. I can assure you though - the bear hit me. I never saw an animal run so fast and with such intent. He was confused and I felt so horrible for him. On the way back, we stopped on the side of the road and I got a chance to hold his paw and pet him. He was adorable. Always wanted to pet a bear.
I'm currently in the market for a Z4 or a well-sorted 3.0 Z3 if anyone can help out on the west coast.
Thanks for reading!
- Christian
At about 10:30 coming across the coastal mountain range, an animal that looked like some sort of Sasquatch ran at full sprint out of the forest, slammed into my car and bounced across the fender and drivers door. Luckily for me, there was not a second to brake or swerve. He ran as fast as a gazelle and was built like a tank. I still have visions every night about seeing that animal come into view in that tiny windshield and how fast he was moving - that huge red muzzle towering over the hood, slowly looking towards me as if he saw me as prey and wanted to get me out of my car. I can't imagine he lived much longer after hitting the 2800lb piece of metal doing 65mph.
At the moment of impact, I knew the Z was done. It was loud like the sound of a car accident if you've ever had the unfortunate opportunity to hear a car accident. It's a sort of loud popping sound. The airbag went off. It obstructed the windscreen so I could not tell if I was going straight. I slammed on the brakes, held the wheel straight and eventually came to a stop as smoke filled the cabin and obstructed the view of anything outside. I remembered there's no town for miles and no car in sight and started to think the car was on fire. I couldn't tell where the smoke was coming from. I panicked and picked up my phone to call 911. Somehow I managed to get out some words, but remember not having a clue what to do. I felt helpless. I didn't know where to tell the operator I was and I didn't know if I should stay in or get out. There was clearly an injured adult black bear outside. I was waiting for some large silhouette or several to start moving around my car waiting for me to get out. The “prey” scenario in retrospect seems ridiculous, but in the moment, I was not in a state of mind to think it too crazy. And those roads at night can be very scary places when you’re alone in a broken two-seater roadster. Eventually, the smoke subsided and I realized it was only the gas inside the airbag. I walked out of the car and peered down the dark abyss of a road. I knew somewhere down that road, there was either a really dead bear or a really delusional bear. That's when I could get a good look at the damage. Shaking too much to hold the phone, that's about when sadness started to overcome fear. The headlight of the car I loved so much was shoved up against the strut tower. Fluids covered the asphalt. The steering rack wasn't really a steering rack any longer. There was a dent the size of a soccer ball in my strut tower. I didn't even bother to start adding up the cost of all the BMW plastic that was gone.
Eventually after a few minutes, some headlights appeared on the horizon. I stood in the middle of the road trying to wave them down. They could see I was scared as I tried to convince them I hit a bear. But Ali and her family in that big, safe-from-a-bear Subaru Outback gave me much hope in humanity that night. They stayed with me and helped me through the whole ordeal. Several police SUVS showed up. At first they tried to figure out if I was drunk which is apparently a much more believable story given my confused 911 call. But from my state of mind and the mud on the side of the car which I was informed was actually fecal matter from the force of the impact, they quickly knew I wasn’t under any sort of influence. One of the officers had an AR-15 style rifle strapped to his chest and he asked where the impact happened. I pointed down the dark road and he went down there with his flashlight. As I was talking to the other officer, I hear the crack of the rifle come from the side of the road. I knew what had happened. The bear had been suffering badly.
The talk now became about where the bear was coming from because local authorities needed to track these animals. I hung out with the officers for a few more minutes and they were kind enough to give me a ride back to Portland. In their 30 years on the force, they never had anyone hit a bear with their car. I can assure you though - the bear hit me. I never saw an animal run so fast and with such intent. He was confused and I felt so horrible for him. On the way back, we stopped on the side of the road and I got a chance to hold his paw and pet him. He was adorable. Always wanted to pet a bear.
I'm currently in the market for a Z4 or a well-sorted 3.0 Z3 if anyone can help out on the west coast.
Thanks for reading!
- Christian
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