Never A Good Sign

We are workampers who volunteer for FHU (full hook-up). We drive a F350 dually with a 39′  5th Redwood trailer attached.

My  given name is Christine Columbus and I  co-navigate with our GPS whom I loving referred to as Bea.

On October 3, 2017 we pulled out in of our campground, in Gallatin TN as we continued our journey to our next assignment in Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge. When Bea suddenly announced,”re-routing highway closurere.”

I took a deep breath and calmly let my husband know there was going to be a change in plans. “The GPS is re-routing.”

Now, I am not sure why I like to reiterated what ‘that woman’ has said.

It might be my need to control or my  internal nagging thoughts, ‘was he listening?’

After a long forty-five minute detour down a lovely two lane highway with lots of traffic, stop lights, low overhanging trees, and a small shoulder we were back traveling down I-24.

I took a deep breath, stretched out, putting my feet up against the dash. (I have a fear about air bags – so I only allow myself the luxury of stretching,  when I’m feeling confident the airbags won’t be deployed smashing my legs up over my head.)

I can almost hear paramedics, “How did her legs end up in the backseat?”

There was a lot of construction on I-24 and traffic can best be described as lunchtime at Costco. Impatient people jocking for positions, except insteadof pushing an overloaded cart of groceries were hauling a 15,000 pound 5th wheeler – doing lane shifts, but we are moving and the road is opened and all is well until….

Bea announced, “rerouting.”

Now, I am beginning to wonder about Bea’s brain.   I have been watching the road and I didn’t see any road closure signs.  I don’t see any of the semi’s moving into the right lane.

“Maybe the GPS needs to be update. I’m going to check and see if the road is really closed,” I said as I grabbed my cellphone. As I try to remember what state we are I began typing, ‘current road conditions for…’

To add to my  confusion DH (dear husband) states, “there’s a highway sign saying don’t follow GPS.”

I chuckle because I’m certain he’s making a joke.

“No really.”

I glanced up and I too saw a a flashing roadway sign. ‘DON’T FOLLOW GPS’.

My feet are no longer on the dash.

Did I mention I have directional dyslexia. I am constantly getting lost, I don’t know my right hand from my left and GPS is my seeing eye dog, my white cane and we are passing the third flashing marquee..DON’T FOLLOW GPS.

DH is waiting for some input as Bea is shouting, “exit now.”

And I am saying, “no, no.”

He remains on the freeway as I rummaged through the front cab of our truck for our trusty 2017 Rand McNally Road Atlas and fliipped to Tennessee. The print is extremely small, but I am able to locate our approximate location and direct him.

After seventy-five miles Bea came to her senses and we pulled into our next campground.  Of course I continued to offer helpful suggestions.

DH pulled into the  visitor’s lot, but I insisted we didn’t need to stop and park, because we had preregistered. I directed him to the  guard station.  Opps, wrong advice.

As the woman took our information and updated the computer, her husband had to walk out of the guard station and remove the orange cones, so the registered guest could pass by our rig.

In my defense I thought the whole purpose of preregistration was so you could blow past the guard shack and drive right to your sight. I guess there is a learning curve on full time rving.

Moral of the story:

There are signs all around us. The trick to a happy life is to figure out which signs to follow.

Enjoy today because you never know where your GPS will bring you tomorrow.

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