The incident didn't happen in SoCal, but SoCOL--the Great Sand Dunes Nat'l Monument near Alamosa, Colorado. I was staying alone at the campground (escaping from the barracks at Fort Carson), a mile or two off the road and about an inch of snow fell during the night. In the wee hours of the morning, a noise woke me up. I looked out the little hole in my tent and instead of seeing white snow, I saw solid brown. I slowly started to unzip the tent and all hell broke loose. It was at least 30 dear, and probably more than 50, judging from the tracks.
Tent was crushed and I got knocked down and stomped in the inner thigh & shoulder. Fortunately I had the thick Army-issue sleeping bag.
I staggered upright still wearing my sleeping bag & busted tent and watched the herd run off. Then I smelled the gasoline pouring out of my little Sportster's tank.
When I told my friend Mike (a Colo native) about it, he said the deer population in North America is more plentiful now than when it was before us white men showed up and eliminated all their predators.