Get Lost

Last week Ken started a job in a hotel at the base of Mount Washington.  He invited me to come over to New Hampshire to stay a couple nights.  It took no persuasion for me to say yes.

I like to travel.  I consider myself an adequate traveler.  I envision a day where I will pack a bag and be ready to go in under an hour.

Today was not that day.  I finished loading and ran the dishwasher; I cleaned out the coffeemaker; I gathered all the clean, dry laundry to fold and put away; I cleared the kitchen counters and organized the desk; I checked blogs, sent emails, and found directions before I turned off the desktop computer; I unplugged everything I could and set the thermostats at 60 degrees; I finished packing, loaded the car, went back into the house for Luna bars, and was finally ready to leave.

Three and a half hours.  Not my personal best but not my worst time either.  I am beyond needing every surface to be dust-free before I leave on a trip.

I had detailed directions, a mishmash of secondary roads strung together to head west across the state of Maine and into the  White Mountains of New Hampshire.  I have traveled most of the route before but not often enough to remember all the twists and turns.

My first stop for verification that I was on the right track was in Bryant Pond, which wasn't specifically named on my list of towns and route numbers.  Turns out I was where I needed to be.

I made it all the way to Bethel, almost to the New Hampshire line, when I took a wrong turn.  At first I thought I could pull out a save by catching the road west further down the line but a look at the map showed I was on my way to southern Maine.

Backtrack, stop to ask for directions, make course correction, and proceed to destination.

Oh well.  It goes without saying that "get lost" is on the to-do list for any trip I take.

With that out of the way, tomorrow I will see what the town of Littleton has to offer ~