South Carolina Scenic Route
by Marie Lamb
I remember what it was like to drive into that
gravel of the wrong turn, that wasn’t a turn. I drove straight ahead,
right off the paved road with a huge jarring KERPLUNK and skidding into
the sand and gravel of a quickly narrowing road. The directions hadn't said to turn right, and I hadn't turned. But I had quickly regretted it. This was the last
place with a shoulder, but I was going too fast to take advantage of it.
There was a big truck behind me, and it turned, the way I thought I
should have gone. I skidded to a stop as the tree canopy above me
closed in, turning the broad daylight to shadows.
My eleven year old daughter turned to me, her eyes widening, and asked ‘Mom, are you sure this is the right road?’ I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t back up, with more small traffic coming in behind me. It was this way or the highway, now, and the highway was back there.
So we continued, along the tiny six foot wide road, going ten miles per hour around corners. We met three other cars coming the opposite direction, slowly thank God, just like we were traveling. There were even a few mailboxes with gated driveways along the way - tiny paths leading up and into the National Forest beyond. At one point, we came to a near stop on a 90 degree turn and saw the expanse of a lake stretching out for nearly as far as the eye could see, about twenty feet down from the surface of the road. It was one of the longest hours I have ever driven as a parent, not counting the first time I drove a stick shift to the post office with a month old infant in her carseat beside me.
We finally emerged from the forest cover, to a tiny four way stop beside a church. I was a little shaky at this time, and punched up my phone to find out where in the Sam Hill I was, and how badly I had gotten lost. And then I sat there and stared at Google for a good minute. I turned to my daughter and told her ‘That was the road. That tiny road was State Route 1536. That really was the road we were supposed to be on.’ I took a moment to see that the right hand turn I thought I missed actually went an hour out of the way along a perfectly normal highway and would have gotten us there eventually. But this had been the route printed up on the map we made before we left, and scary or not, it had gotten us here.
I still wonder what I learned that day. Not to follow Google directions without looking really hard at the map? That sometimes the road we are supposed to be on is scary, dark and looks entirely preposterous? Mostly, I learned on that trip to communicate with my daughter that I don’t always have all the answers to what is in front of us, but I’m working really hard to get where we need to be. And, when things get worrisome we slow down, keep our wits about us, and keep going to the other side.
My eleven year old daughter turned to me, her eyes widening, and asked ‘Mom, are you sure this is the right road?’ I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t back up, with more small traffic coming in behind me. It was this way or the highway, now, and the highway was back there.
So we continued, along the tiny six foot wide road, going ten miles per hour around corners. We met three other cars coming the opposite direction, slowly thank God, just like we were traveling. There were even a few mailboxes with gated driveways along the way - tiny paths leading up and into the National Forest beyond. At one point, we came to a near stop on a 90 degree turn and saw the expanse of a lake stretching out for nearly as far as the eye could see, about twenty feet down from the surface of the road. It was one of the longest hours I have ever driven as a parent, not counting the first time I drove a stick shift to the post office with a month old infant in her carseat beside me.
We finally emerged from the forest cover, to a tiny four way stop beside a church. I was a little shaky at this time, and punched up my phone to find out where in the Sam Hill I was, and how badly I had gotten lost. And then I sat there and stared at Google for a good minute. I turned to my daughter and told her ‘That was the road. That tiny road was State Route 1536. That really was the road we were supposed to be on.’ I took a moment to see that the right hand turn I thought I missed actually went an hour out of the way along a perfectly normal highway and would have gotten us there eventually. But this had been the route printed up on the map we made before we left, and scary or not, it had gotten us here.
I still wonder what I learned that day. Not to follow Google directions without looking really hard at the map? That sometimes the road we are supposed to be on is scary, dark and looks entirely preposterous? Mostly, I learned on that trip to communicate with my daughter that I don’t always have all the answers to what is in front of us, but I’m working really hard to get where we need to be. And, when things get worrisome we slow down, keep our wits about us, and keep going to the other side.
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