Saturday, February 16, 2013

Step One Complete, or Our Heroine Prepares to Embark on a 1300 Mile Beer Run

Vacation!  Florida!  Sunshine!  It's almost within my grasp.  I'm flying out this weekend for a lovely week without snow or ice or -30 temps.  They tell me that that kind of world actually exists - I can hardly wait!  And a chance to see my daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren, beloved all.  We're talking bliss.
So a week or so ago, I got an email from my daughter.  Turns out we live practically on top of a microbrewery that has crazy award-winning beer.  Beer that is completely unavailable in Florida.  Could I be talked into a quest for said beer?
Well, hey, quest is my middle name.  The brewery is in Greensboro Bend - a place I've never been to before.  Naturally, I asked Madman about the town, knowing he knew how to get there, as I pulled up Google maps.
"How are you planning to go?" he asked.
I studied my options for a moment.  There were three ways to get there.  None of them good.  There's no direct route.  One way, I have to go way south and cut north; another involves going way north and cutting south.  The most direct way goes up and over Stannard Mountain, which I have driven once in high summer and would never ever ever attempt in winter.  Not without a dogsled and enough provisions to last till June.
"Well, which way am I least likely to get lost?"
Laugh if you will, but this is always a consideration when I go somewhere for the first time.  Or even the second or third time.  I have no sense of direction.  None.  Zero.  If it's possible to have a negative sense of direction, that would be me.  I have memorized routes to the places I go, and if I deviate AT ALL from the route, I end up lost.  As in miles-from-home-and-all-the-signs-are-in-a-foreign-language lost.  Because once I'm lost, any attempt to correct just makes it worse.  (Like the time I was in Portsmouth, NH, and wanted to just cross the highway from one shopping center to another.  I ended up lost somewhere in Maine.  I'm serious.  All I wanted to do was cross the road.)
After much discussion, I printed off my directions, and Wednesday after work, I set out.  And even though I think I was on squirrel trails for part of the journey, I did not get lost.  And I only almost missed one turn.  (The roads around Greensboro are very confusing.  There are a lot of "Y" intersections (both upper and lower case) and all the road names change at each intersection.  Some roads are only a mile long, and only exist to connect one "Y" to another.)
So, against all odds, I actually found the brewery, purchased beer, and found my way home again.  Without ending up in Canada.  Or Oz.
Florida, here I come. 
Luckily the plane doesn't require me to navigate...


Cookie said...

Thank goodness! Have a wonderful safe trip, sweetie.

kmkat said...

You live in one of the worst places in the country to have that impaired sense of direction. New England is full of roads that wander and veer around mountains and never EVER come to a right-angle intersection. Come to the Midwest: our roads are laid out in a grid, each one exactly a mile from the next parallel one. (That's why they call them "section roads"; a section = 1 square mile.)

Wanderingcatstudio said...

I'm the one with the navigation skills in our family - Dave gets lost in the mall. It's rather amusing and exasperating all at the same time.

Have a wonderful trip and enjoy the sun and warmth for me too!

Laurie said...

Hope you are sunning and funning.

Winterhart said...

So glad to hear I'm not the only one with the directional sense of a drunk chipmunk!

I once tried to get from Binghamton, NY to Lake Carmel NY. I finally called for directions upon seeing the sign saying "Welcome to New Jersey."

And yes, @Wanderingcatstudio, I too have been lost in a J. C. Penney. (Hint: the store is a SQUARE.)

Glad that you are currently someplace snow-free and warm! Enjoy!