Death comes in many forms. Today it came in cloudless skies, in Autumn golds, on a narrow track to the river Lot. He appeared a few meters from the verge, red eyed and foam tusked and his considerable size increased by the fear-raised hackles on his spine. He determined to cross our path, determined to reach the apparent safety of the stunted yellow oaks on the far side, unswerving, relentless, at full pig gallop, in terror and terrible, determined. When did by foot arc from accelerate to brake, my body brace for impact as the careering boar disappeared beneath the bonnet’s red horizon. The protesting tires bucked and clutched at the roadside gravel as the car slewed to a momentary standstill. No sickening concussion, just cloudless skies, Autumn gold trees, the track ahead leading us down to the Lot valley. Death, invisible in his hi-vis jacket, shouldered his rifle, called off his dog and sought other quarry.
An adult wild boar weighs up to 160 kilos, is a meter high at the shoulder and can gallop at speeds up to 40 kph. In France in 2008 there were about 10,000 declared collisions with wild boar. 747,000 boar were killed in France in 2019.
Citroën have a reputation for effective brakes.
