So, once again, I had to drive somewhere I'd never driven before and got lost. It really was not my fault this time - the road I was supposed to turn on had a completely different name than my directions. I figured it out in pretty short order, but still... It's like a superpower, except that it's not super at all.
More on my extremely "special" set of skills:
https://www.iveyink.com/blog/2018/6/17/the-non-super-superheroes
And why does it always happen in summer?
A Scene from My Day: 07/01/2016
I went out on an excursion today. I had directions from Google maps, which stated that it should take me 41 minutes. It was a long drive, but most of it was going to be on the part of 92 that has a 55 mph speed limit, and the area of 75 where the speed limit is 70.
Fast forward about 35-40 minutes.
I took exit 296. The directions said turn left onto Cassville-White Road. Easy - look, there's a sign for it. Then I was looking for Brown Loop on the right. Hmm... Lots of little roads going off to the right. Didn't see a sign for Brown Loop. I did see a road on the right that did not have a sign. I wondered if that was it, but by that time had already passed it, so I kept going.
After I had gone a while (or what we in the South refer to as "up the road a-piece"), the road made 3 right angle turns in quick succession, and I came to a - gas station? - that made me think I had traveled back in time about 80 years, except that there was a shiny new Chevy Suburban parked outside instead of a shiny new Model T.
I should mention that I have inherited my mom's sense of direction. However, since I did not inherit either her tendency to panic when lost, or my dad's utter refusal to ask directions, I pulled over at said gas station/ice cream parlor (and town hall for all I know). First I asked the shaggy-headed teenager who was leaving if he knew where Brown Loop road was. He didn't. But, you know, when I was a teenager, I didn't know road names either. I asked two ladies inside. They'd never heard of it. I asked two more ladies who were in a truck outside. They didn't know where it was, either. Now, in their defense, this intersection looked like the sort of place where if it was more than a mile away it might as well have been on another planet.
Not to be deterred, I hopped back in my spaceship and went back the way I came. There had been a bigger gas station just after I got off the interstate, so I went back there (again, looking for Brown Loop the whole way).
I stopped in at the other gas station, not having seen Brown Loop (or Brown anything, except horses) but wondering again if that little signless road I had passed was where I needed to be going. I asked the lady behind the counter and she wasn't sure. I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to find this place, but the door tinkled as another customer came in and she called out to him.
"Hey, Hotrod!" "Yup?" "You pretty good with the roads 'round here?" "Yup!" "You know which road Brown Loop is?" "Hmm..."
Fortunately, one of Hotrod's buddy's followed him in. He was pretty sure that Brown Loop was "the road with the old wooden bridge." I must have made a funny face when he said this, because Counter Lady assured me that she knew what road we were talking about now and the bridge was perfectly safe. I said I was less concerned about the safety of the bridge and more concerned about finding it.
By now about 3 or 4 people who looked like they were related to Hotrod (and also to my friend, Lee), had gathered around and were of a pretty strong consensus that Brown Loop was "just past the KOA" and was, in fact, the road with The Old Wooden Bridge. Since Brown Loop was not my ultimate destination, I also asked if anyone was familiar with Shotgun Road. Oh, yes, they all knew Shotgun road - it was on the left, just past the now-famous Old Wooden Bridge.
So back in the car, armed with directions that included "just past the KOA" (whatever that was) and "just over the old wood bridge," I set out again. It turns out the KOA was a campsite with a very nice big red sign. The little no-sign road I had passed twice was just past the KOA, so I took a chance and turned down it. And I found myself very glad I drive a tiny little Mazda 2. I've seen grocery store aisles wider than this road. And over the first rise, I finally saw The Old Wooden Bridge. Again, I was thankful for my tiny car. There was a sign that said something about a weight limit for trucks over 6 wheels. I snorted - more like buggies over 6 wheels, I should think.
I very much expected to start passing signs saying things like "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe" and "Hoover for President." And, just past the infamous bridge, there was a road on the left. With no sign. Taking a chance that this was the "just past the bridge" Shotgun road that I was looking for, I turned. I never did see any other indicator of road name, but I did find the address I was looking for. I guess if you have to ask for road names, "Y'ain't from around here."
Later, I made my way back, easily finding my route back to the highway. As I drove down the on-ramp back onto the interstate, the triumphant strains of Ride of the Valkyries swelled from the stereo, and I knew all was well.
Coming back home it too me exactly 41 minutes from driveway to driveway. Good job, Google maps.
It is the LAMEST super power.