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What’s a vacation without a road trip…where you end up getting lost?

It’s not unusual, when I hear the road report, or worse, get stuck in a jam on the highway, for me to head off-road. I know that as long as I keep heading in the direction I want to go, I’ll eventually get where I want to go (or where I’ll recognize a major road sign to get me where I want to go). I wouldn’t call myself an intrepid traveller by any means (my father had to take me on the bus to see how to get to school when I first moved to the city), but I’m not worried. In fact, I’ve been off-road often enough that I frequently recognize intersections and stops along the way.

I knew I was in trouble when I spotted a large body of water. Then I passed a yacht club…I can’t begin to tell you how I got there…

I started from work heading east cross-country. There were a couple of gravel roads with big signs that said “Broken Road – Use at Own Risk”, a U-turn on another highway (I recognized the bridge being built in the middle of a field with no road to it), several constructions zones, a detour or two, and finally, water. We were now firmly ensconced in prime rush hour. So I veered into a parkette with a beach to check the map, and pulled into the only available space…a handicapped parking space, after circling the parking lot three times. I left the car running while I flipped pages in my rather worn map book. The highway was close – I only had to get back to the street I had just detoured off because construction had created an impassable snarl, drive for 2 km, and head north to the highway.

We wound our way along the lengthy detour, sandwiched between two transports, and somehow, ended up on a major thoroughfare with big green signs for the highway. Hallelujah! Nearly 2 hours later (with a second off-road traipse through the countryside), we made it…home! Yup! For the first time in 19 years, I got lost driving to my parents’ home. What a way to start our vacation!