Lost on a Highway

...and that's with GPS! Not lost, really. Just driving aimlessly, we think.

Okay, so this GPS toy is new to us, and it's a dream come true, most times. Yesterday, we pushed a button that gave us too much power. It read: "3 routes". We selected "Shortest Route".

Lesson learned: Shortest is not a synonym for quickest.

We were somewhere in Brentwood (somewhere near El Diablo...cuz that helps, right?) and there were all kinds of ways to get home apparently. We just wanted to get HOME. We had made a 2 hour trip to watch a 1 hour soccer game in addition to a 1 hour warm-up on a windy day. We got slaughtered (4-1) and we just felt tired. Fast route -- that's all we wanted. Hayden was done; Lindsay was hungry; Mallory was exhausted from a physical game of soccer.

We pushed the button and waited for that nice lady to tell us where to go.

We started driving and shortly noticed that other soccer family travelers were no longer following on our tail. He wasn't driving THAT fast, was he? Over one bridge. Road narrows to one lane.

"This is definitely more scenic than the way we came!" Dave says, excitedly. "Hayden...look at that ship. Look at the egrit! Have you ever been out here?"

Nope. Little did he know.

Over another bridge. Along the river. Road narrows even more. NO edge. Now driving in the middle of the road. This "highway" has never been repaired. Is it even on a map? We being to wonder. We haven't passed another car in 20 minutes. But we're along the water. Dave is happy. Then...time to cross the river again. Another bridge. No...wait. A FERRY?

Good grief. Dave and I look at each other and burst out laughing. "Should we turn around?" This is definitely the long way home! We wait to drive onto the ferry. Have you ever done that? Lindsay gets nervous. Hayden is excited. Mallory is wiped. "Are we going the right way, for sure?" She's looking for confirmation, not to mention a shower.

I'm sure we are, as this incredible invention -- GPS -- has never led me astray. But even I'm starting to question the higher powers that are giving me instructions. We cross the river via the ferry -- 10 minutes have elapsed. We had to wait for a sailboat to cross. Am I awake? Is this a movie?

As the trip continues, I count my blessings as none of the kids get carsick. One more bridge...is this number 4? I ask aloud. It's a drawbridge! "Drive fast!" I clench my sidearm. As Liz would say...Tender Mercies! Our heartrate increases a few times as we think we see cars and possibly a freeway. Hopes -- dashed -- as we turn yet another corner.

Finally, civilization! I-5! It's a miracle. We get the car over the 50 MPH mark. We're laughing again as we merge onto the freeway. We start doing the math.

Mileage -- GPS is right. Still fewer miles than the way we came. And, surprisingly, (even with my whiplash from the windy road), my mind wanders to the poem by Robert Frost:

The Road not Taken:

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

As I heard Mallory recounting our adventure to a friend over the phone, I was glad we took the road less traveled that day. We will remember that far longer than the score of that game.