The Lost Art of Getting Unlost

A few weeks ago I was driving along a dusty road in NE Colorado. I was way out there, in a very rural area miles from any semblance of a city. Looking for photographic opportunities, I traversed many a dirt road and miles of featureless prairie.

I could have easily gotten lost.

But no, I had my trusty phone and Google maps to guide my way. It was almost simplistic - monitor the blue line on my screen, follow the directions provided, and seamlessly float to my next destination. That I would arrive on time and as planned was never in doubt.

And it bored me.

Please do not misunderstand…I appreciate the technological marvel that is GPS, cell phones, and mapping applications at our fingertips. We are blessed with the ability to research our journeys, chart our routes, and arrive in safety thanks to Google Maps and many other tools. Travel is now a function of the algorithm, the satellite locator, and the four-star review.

But…it seems that something important is missing.

Think about this - when was the last time you did any of the following:

• Find the location of a street by using the alphanumeric grid on a paper map.

• Stop at a gas station and buy a map!

• Ask a stranger for directions.

• Call a friend to confirm the best route to a party.

• Try a restaurant based on the recommendation of someone you will never see again.

As with most things related to technology, what we gain in efficiency or ease of use we lose something else. With GPS, Google Maps, and our iPhones, we no longer need to rely on the people around us to find our way, nor use our brains to decipher a map or plot a route.

Planning a journey used to require a great deal of critical thinking, research, logistics, and social interaction. You simply could not drive from one place to another without any of those skills.

How common was this scenario: You are going to an appointment - let’s say a new doctor. But you are unfamiliar with that part of town - so, you call the doctor’s office, talk to the receptionist, and get directions. You actually had to talk to someone, write down notes, chart a mental map of landmarks, turns, and warnings (“Don’t turn at the Pawn Shop, that’s a dead end.”)

This was life as little as 20 years ago.

You relied on the good faith of others, your geospatial sensibilities, and your brain - to get anywhere.

I remember one family vacation we were debating where to go to dinner. As we were walking out the hotel, frustrated at our collective indecisiveness, I walked up to one of the parking attendants and asked for recommendations. He pointed us to a local Tex-Mex roadhouse about 15 miles away.

It was amazing. We liked it so much, we went there two nights in a row.

Google would have never brought us there. The internet never heard of the place.

But I gained a small soft-spot in my heart for that gentleman - who I would never see again - kindly sharing a little of his insider knowledge with us.

Another time I was eating lunch on a trip to North Cascades National Park. Unasked, the owner of the restaurant offered me advice on a little known hike nearby, leading to glacier views and alpine meadows. He simply wanted to share an amazing part of his world with a stranger.

Last year we were in London, meeting one of my wife’s lifelong friends and her husband. They brought us to an amazing pub. We shared pints and exchanged ideas on places to visit, things to see, and future trips to plan. Their local knowledge was indispensable, rooted in their personal experience, opening up potential discoveries that I had never considered. Plus, it was simply a great conversation, bonding over a shared love of travel.

Just this week, I was riding my mountain bike, and a woman stopped me to warn of a rattlesnake lurking just off the trail in the bushes. Unasked, unprompted. She just wanted to pass along some pertinent information, and be helpful.

These moments are more and more fleeting, and we’re all poorer because of it.

It may not sound like much, but those small social interactions - asking a stranger where the hotel is, or how to get to the Interstate - help create relationships and interdependencies that every culture needs. Even if they were temporary and fleeting, they reinforce the human experience in small but important ways. And they may even be good for your health.

We depend on each other. Everyone is not out to get you. People are usually willing to help. Yes, you can quickly find your way by relying on your iPhone. But what are you missing?

With the march of technology we are losing these threads of social fabric…further isolating us and keeping us in our bubble. We skip something critical when we don’t engage one another, when we don’t trust the stranger. And we diminish our capacity to problem-solve, to evaluate information freely given.

When we rely too much on the algorithm, the ratings system, the crowd-sourced average, we get lost…individually and collectively…and find that the route ahead gets more muddled.

The joy of surprise and discovery is forgotten. Our skills as navigators fade away, and the social glue that holds civilization together weakens.

So put the phone down occasionally. Point your compass in a random direction. Talk with locals about what’s over the next hill. Walk into a restaurant cold, without reading the reviews. Buy a paper map, and chart your journey with a marker.

Get lost, talk to people, find your way, discover, and explore.

Parting Proclamation

Words, wit, and wisdom.

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Disclaimer:

All content and opinions are solely those of the author (Jack), and not representative of my employer, former employers, clients, anyone in Congress, my family, former college roommates, Baptists, the good citizens of Colorado, or my dog Mabel.