I got lost last week. I don’t mean way-laid,
took-the-long-way-around stuff. I mean the kind of lost that rarely exists in a
world filled with GPS turn-by-turn and smart phones. I mean I got LOST.
I was in Pittsburgh with a few hours to kill, so I thought I
venture into the city to see a few sights and grab lunch at this well-known hot
dog stand in downtown. After taking the long-way-around to see what I wanted to
see, I headed toward the hot dog stand with my trusty hand-written directions,
faithfully obtained from Google Maps before I left the hotel’s WiFi bubble. I
found the stand. Fairly easily, actually. But I had left out one important
step: parking. I drove past the stand, remembering that I had seen a sign for a
parking garage a few lights back.
The only picture of Pittsburgh I managed to take, between a dead camera battery and being hopelessly, hopelessly lost. This is taken from the West End Overlook. |
This is where things began to slip. I had come in on a
one-way road, so a U-turn would have been a bad idea. It seemed that two right
turns would take me back toward the garage. I drove past another parking
garage, thinking the first one would be a little closer. And then kept driving
– now somewhat confused. I wound around downtown neighborhoods for awhile,
having no idea why I could not find my way back to the garage, or even the
street I had come in on. Finally, I did manage to make my way back to the
freeway, but I was fairly sure I needed to go west, and I there was only an
east-bound on-ramp. No problem, right? Make a U-turn at the next exit and head
back west. Easy.
Now, I am still trying to process everything that happened
next. I took the next exit. Just as I got off, I saw a swarm of red and blue
lights coming toward me. Behind them, a seemingly endless line of diesel
trucks, all blaring their horns. I rolled down my window, unsure how to proceed,
and heard an announcement from somewhere saying something about a Big Rig
Motorcade welcoming home athletes from the Special Olympics. I had pulled over
by this point, but soon realized that one of the officers was shouting at me to
keep moving, so I did. The road in front of me was clear, but I wanted to turn
around. The trucks were still coming, so I kept driving. Somehow, I ended up in
a neighborhood with narrow, U-turn-unfriendly streets, so again, I kept
driving.
Finally, I found a spot to make a quick turn-around. Only
things looked different on my way out. I came to an intersection that seemed
familiar and attempted to head in what I thought was the correct direction –
only to end up in the middle of a funeral procession.
I am not making this up.
I continued with the procession until I felt I could
reasonably slip away, only to end up in another of those narrow-streeted
neighborhoods. I tried my best to backtrack, finally finding my way back out to
what seemed to be a major street. Still, it didn’t look very familiar.
It is here that I think I made my largest mistake. The
winding, narrow streets, thick trees and rolling hills had all combined to
force my natural sense of direction into something of a tailspin. You see, it
seemed logical to head west, so I did. Or, I thought did. I drove along the
banks of one of Pittsburgh’s many rivers for some time, winding in and out of
railroad tracks along the way before coming to a bridge. I felt like I needed
to cross the river, so I took the bridge and again headed in the direction I
believed was west. I knew I would hit the freeway soon. Yep, anytime now. I am
sure it is just around that next corner. Uh-huh, just over that hill.
Nope.
I did just what every man would do. I kept driving. At some
point, I checked the rearview mirror in my rental car, noticing for the first
time that it had a digital compass there in the lower right corner. It said SE,
which I thought was strange, seeing how I was driving straight west.
Still no freeway. More yellow and orange trees. Occasional
businesses, but not much else going on along this stretch of road. Mirror still
said SE. And, then, there it was. No, not the freeway. A road sign. A road sign that said the road I was on was Southbound PA-885.
Southbound?
Next one said the same thing. Mirror display read S. The
evidence had become overwhelming. I was lost. And, for maybe the first time in
my adult life, I didn’t even have a hypothesis on what to do next. Should I try
to back track? Find a McDonald’s and use WiFi (but then I’d have to find a
McDonald’s)? Reorient myself using the rental car’s built-in compass and try to
head west again?
Then, randomly, I
remembered that the rental car agent had stuck a paper map of the Pittsburgh
area with my receipt. Did you know they still print paper maps?
I stopped in the next parking lot – a Taco Bell. I found
PA-885 on the map. I was not even close to… well, anything. I managed to plan a
new route using the map. It was late enough now that I knew it was straight
back to the airport – without lunch. I had seen the sights of Pittsburgh,
though certainly not the ones I had planned to see!
There are many, many analogies to draw from this experience.
I cannot ever remember being so physically lost, but I haven’t always been able
to clearly see the path temporally or spiritually. There have been many maps in
my life, most of which, like the paper map from this experience, have been in
my possession for the entire time, but certainly not remembered or used
correctly.
You may, if you like, insert your own parable here.
I included this map for your viewing pleasure. "A" is the restaurant I was trying to find. "B" is the Taco Bell parking lot where I finally stopped to grab the map. Please note, the "Suggested Route" highlighted in blue IS NOT the route I took between the two locations. I'm not sure I could even figure out my actual route.