Last week in this column we discussed our over-reliance on technology. Later in the week, I played golf about a 25-minute drive from our house. I love the course, very scenic, quiet, surrounded by various types of pine trees.
Twenty-five minutes is not long. I don’t use technology like GPS or Waze to get there because I’ve been driving to the course for so long. I find it in my sleep. I find it through muscle memory -- the old fashioned way.
Despite this, I found myself last week wanting to explore a new path. I use the word “explore” purposefully. Words matter.
I’d finished playing early, walking by myself. The rest of the day beckoned with nothing on the calendar. I’d said to myself (and my wife) several times that I was going to launch down a country road returning from the course one day. That day came.
Why do this? Why meander and see where you end up? Because you can. It’s an explorative journey.
Once you leave the course, the main road curves north and east. The side road, unlined, farms on both sides, looked like it headed due east. Apparently a more direct route to our home, but who knew? It was an untested road.
I’d played a solid round and felt good. If I got lost, I had to keep trying new roads heading east, then south, and sooner or later I’d come into recognizable terrain and recalibrate to return (“recalculating” as the directions app would state to you).
The speed limit slowed. I hit a stop sign. Then another. The road began to curve into some woods. Then it slowed further, to 25 mph for a sharp turn. The car headed up a hill. A neighborhood appeared on the right in the middle of nowhere.
Everything was okay. Generally speaking, the car continued in the right direction.
An elderly couple was out walking, and I gave them a wide berth and waved. They waved back. I smiled. The car was warm, and the outside air cold. I started getting drowsy, ready for the spectacular afternoon nap. First, I had to navigate back.
Very quickly, the shortcut came to an end. WTH? On the left was a tiny motel you see on the main road to the course. There’s no way I could come out here! Yes, there was.
Somehow, my exploratory meandering afternoon turned into a radical shortcut that saved seven minutes on the 25-minute drive. Astounding!
The shortcut had been found because I’d wanted to do the opposite and get lost and just drive around and figure out some way to get home over the back roads. So weird, so strange.
The experience was relaxing. It was enjoyable. It was just shorter than expected.
Leaving technology behind is a good thing for many reasons, particularly to get you back in touch with your sense of direction. You’re tested. You must navigate, not the app or software program.
I got home way sooner than expected, but that was good, too. My nap beckoned. I slept well.
Twenty-five minutes is not long. I don’t use technology like GPS or Waze to get there because I’ve been driving to the course for so long. I find it in my sleep. I find it through muscle memory -- the old fashioned way.
Despite this, I found myself last week wanting to explore a new path. I use the word “explore” purposefully. Words matter.
I’d finished playing early, walking by myself. The rest of the day beckoned with nothing on the calendar. I’d said to myself (and my wife) several times that I was going to launch down a country road returning from the course one day. That day came.
Why do this? Why meander and see where you end up? Because you can. It’s an explorative journey.
Once you leave the course, the main road curves north and east. The side road, unlined, farms on both sides, looked like it headed due east. Apparently a more direct route to our home, but who knew? It was an untested road.
I’d played a solid round and felt good. If I got lost, I had to keep trying new roads heading east, then south, and sooner or later I’d come into recognizable terrain and recalibrate to return (“recalculating” as the directions app would state to you).
The speed limit slowed. I hit a stop sign. Then another. The road began to curve into some woods. Then it slowed further, to 25 mph for a sharp turn. The car headed up a hill. A neighborhood appeared on the right in the middle of nowhere.
Everything was okay. Generally speaking, the car continued in the right direction.
An elderly couple was out walking, and I gave them a wide berth and waved. They waved back. I smiled. The car was warm, and the outside air cold. I started getting drowsy, ready for the spectacular afternoon nap. First, I had to navigate back.
Very quickly, the shortcut came to an end. WTH? On the left was a tiny motel you see on the main road to the course. There’s no way I could come out here! Yes, there was.
Somehow, my exploratory meandering afternoon turned into a radical shortcut that saved seven minutes on the 25-minute drive. Astounding!
The shortcut had been found because I’d wanted to do the opposite and get lost and just drive around and figure out some way to get home over the back roads. So weird, so strange.
The experience was relaxing. It was enjoyable. It was just shorter than expected.
Leaving technology behind is a good thing for many reasons, particularly to get you back in touch with your sense of direction. You’re tested. You must navigate, not the app or software program.
I got home way sooner than expected, but that was good, too. My nap beckoned. I slept well.