Remember that one Thursday where the mist was incredibly thick?
I remember it, because I drove by too many familiar turns on my trips to Westmeath. The turnoff from the road to Beachburg, my primary route, comes at the crest of a wide turn; and if one drives fast, like myself, it’s easy enough to miss when one can’t see the signs readily. I’m sure there were several skids on the shoulders where I had to attempt hasty u-turns to turn around and make the road.
Yes, I’ve been doing this for half a year, and should know by now. But when the fog is thick, or there’s a blizzard, or a rainstorm heavy enough that my wipers are running non-stop, it’s easy enough to miss even the most common turn.
I’m slowly learning the means of navigating Whitewater Region. More important than street-signs for me are the landmarks – the abandoned houses, the lone trees, the street-signs and waterfronts are better ways to tell where I am than a sign for a road name I probably will forget. I am terrible with names, as anyone who has met me more than once has learned, likely repeatedly.
In every place I have ever moved to, a sure sign that I’ve become comfortable and settled in is my sense of navigation. How long it takes to walk anywhere. What buses to take. What roads to drive, what stops to make, what stores sell the best coffee. What side-roads actually lead somewhere and don’t leave me an hour late and a tire stuck.
I’m getting better, but winter is a new challenge. Snow obscures landmarks. Makes it somewhat hard for me to find places I normally could. Not to mention it’s easy to slide, despite road salt.
With the province still in lockdown, I imagine things will be quiet. I do appreciate anything people send me, and I’m going to keep driving around Whitewater with my box of papers and my coffee and probably continue to miss the turnoff to Beachburg on the way to Forester’s Falls, even though there’s one right at the end of the road where the route besides Beachburg or Forester’s Falls is a ditch.
