I was telling a (young) co-worker about taking the long way from Hot Springs, where I was staying, to Mt. Rushmore. The route was through Custer State Park. I had to stop my car for buffalo crossing the street. (Ask anyone in my family. I cannot get over the fact that my car has seen real live buffalo.) But it took 2 1/2 hours, so I decided to take a shorter way home. “I was pretty sure,” I said, “That highway 40 would take me back to 79, which was the road I took into town in the first place.”
“Did you have a map?” she asked.
“I did,” I replied. “But it was on the floor. I was pretty sure I knew where I was.”
“Pretty sure? You don’t even have a GPS.”
I have a brain. And a sense of adventure. My car has a compass and really… It is pretty hard to get lost in this country.
How do kids ever have any fun?
I never even opened my atlas on this trip – I-90 takes you from Chicago all the way across South Dakota. So I took the atlas to my brother today. He has been talking about taking a road trip through Pennsylvania this summer.
He just bought a GPS.