road trippin'
So much of our lives we spend driving our impressively powerful transportation machines round and round in circles. Home, school, work, home, school, work, home, school, grocery store, work, home. But every once in a while we set out in a totally new trajectory.
Even though I've driven back and forth from Denver to Utah countless times, the movement of traveling never fails to amaze. With the simple pressure of my right foot, or even just the flick of the cruise control button, I can travel through the harsh terrain that has killed many a traveler before me in their wagons and worn out shoes.
There is a light blue sign that has been alluring me for months as I've driven back and forth for the recent holidays. The sign features a picture of a columbine, the Colorado State flower, and the words Scenic Byway, Next Right. I don't know what the word byway means. My ignorance of that word kept me from taking the next right after that sign multiple times.
Instead of looking up the word in the dictionary or pulling the atlas out of the back pocket of my seat, I just decided to turn there on my way home for Christmas. I turned because I really wanted to explore. Because I was starting to regret the times I didn't turn. I turned because I do know what the word scenic means.
It was probably 10 miles before I realized that byway doesn't mean alternate way, like I had hoped, it means out of the way. Thanks to the GPS on my miraculous hand-held, electronic fount of all knowledge, I was able to navigate my way back. I was tempted, once I reached my high speeds back on the freeway, to be frustrated at my lost time while being lured from the route by a pretty blue sign with a pretty word on it. But the truth is that I don't really regret turning because 1) I satisfied a hungry curiosity, 2) I found the word I went looking for and the one I didn't, and 3) I used my ultra-fast transportation machine to travel outside the circle: a modern convenience and privilege.
Even though I've driven back and forth from Denver to Utah countless times, the movement of traveling never fails to amaze. With the simple pressure of my right foot, or even just the flick of the cruise control button, I can travel through the harsh terrain that has killed many a traveler before me in their wagons and worn out shoes.
There is a light blue sign that has been alluring me for months as I've driven back and forth for the recent holidays. The sign features a picture of a columbine, the Colorado State flower, and the words Scenic Byway, Next Right. I don't know what the word byway means. My ignorance of that word kept me from taking the next right after that sign multiple times.
Instead of looking up the word in the dictionary or pulling the atlas out of the back pocket of my seat, I just decided to turn there on my way home for Christmas. I turned because I really wanted to explore. Because I was starting to regret the times I didn't turn. I turned because I do know what the word scenic means.
It was probably 10 miles before I realized that byway doesn't mean alternate way, like I had hoped, it means out of the way. Thanks to the GPS on my miraculous hand-held, electronic fount of all knowledge, I was able to navigate my way back. I was tempted, once I reached my high speeds back on the freeway, to be frustrated at my lost time while being lured from the route by a pretty blue sign with a pretty word on it. But the truth is that I don't really regret turning because 1) I satisfied a hungry curiosity, 2) I found the word I went looking for and the one I didn't, and 3) I used my ultra-fast transportation machine to travel outside the circle: a modern convenience and privilege.
Comments
I'm glad you took the byway...I wish I would've been with you. We might have found ourselves a good place to eat...like Boss Hoggs...best place in town for the money!