Bears, Backroads and Seeing What You Can See

I spent my childhood Sundays sitting next to Grandma while she played nursery rhymes on the piano. “The Bear Went Over the Mountain” was my favorite; I was an animal lover and the song was easy to remember. I also really loved the idea of that bear enjoying a ramble over his mountain just “to see what he could see.” As a closely supervised child navigating within my parents’ orbit, I envied the freedom enjoyed by said ursine.

Not All Who Wander are Lost

After college we got grown-up jobs and moved to a new town. I learned my way around by trial and error. Many days I took “the back way” home from my office, varying my turns by whim. I bought a local map and staked out alternate routes to nearly everywhere. As a result, I developed a decent sense of direction and discovered a number of shortcuts and scenic routes. Small-town diners, well-tended farms and roadside produce stands all became points of interest on my local radar.

These days when we travel, I mostly serve as co-pilot. We don’t have the stereotypical argument about Mr. Driver’s failure to ask directions. Truth be told, I am much more guilty of allowing the road to lead us astray than he is. It’s not that I won’t stop and ask, but I’d much prefer to indulge my curiosity and discover what’s over the next hill. I don’t care if I’m wrong or my way takes us a few miles further than we intended. As long as I’m not under a deadline to get there, a few detours might enhance the trip and teach me something new.

The Roads Less Traveled

For instance, I discovered rotary dialed gas pumps are not quite extinct. While following a poorly marked detour in the wilds of northern Ohio, we stopped to refuel at a gas station at the intersection of Dustbowl and Cornfield. The solitary pump offered one choice of gasoline grade and no pay at the pump option. Although the store looked as deserted as the crossroad, it was staffed by a very friendly cashier. She informed me she didn’t control the pump and if I wished to pay in advance I’d just have to stop on the honor system. How refreshing. Since the dial spun slower than the earth rotating on its axis, it was easy to shut off the pump once we reached the magic number. Good thing we still had daylight to read the dial since there wasn’t a single LED to light up the display.

I also discovered that a GPS navigation system doesn’t recognize unpaved roads. On a jaunt to rural North Carolina to adopt our naughty dog Flame, we drove through a game preserve on a seasonal road. Almost immediately, the dependable blue line of our programmed route disappeared. Our happy beach ball GPS icon continued to roll across the now-blank screen. Eventually the display found solid ground again and winked back to life. But not before we had to stop for several wild turkeys to cross the road in front of us. Apparently turkeys don’t register on GPS either.

A lot of our daily travel is about the arriving, and not the journey. We focus on the destination, and forget to appreciate the voyage. My prayer for you (and myself) is to reverse that priority. Take some extra time to explore the surroundings, whether you are literally in the car or merely moving from one task to the next. Wander some by-roads. Meander through a garden. Talk to strangers. Soak in a new experience. Enjoy the ramble. Go over the mountain. And see what you can see.

A Shameless Plug

P.S. I’m giving a shameless plug and a shout out to my niece and nephew, Ashleigh and Rob Mayhew, and their travel blog Granite Cactus. I invite you to follow them as they explore the American Southwest in their remodeled Chevy Suburban.