When You Just Can’t Find Direction

I recently went on a road trip to Idaho with one of my best friends. We hit 2 provinces and 2 states in 3 days. It was a ton of fun, we drove a lot of miles, laughed lots and had some great conversations. We even bought matching t-shirts (because did you really go on a road trip with your bestie if you don’t come back with matching tourist t-shirts?) 

This trip was planned kind of last minute and so I didn’t end up doing the amount of research and planning that I normally do when I plan a trip (ask my mom or my fiance, trip planning is one of my strengths). Needless to say, there were a few surprises along the way. 

First of all, we ended up leaving 5 hours later than planned because Melody had just gotten off a night shift, had an alarm mishap and arrived from Fort Saskatchewan much later than planned. We decided to not drive all the way to Idaho that night, because it was already 7pm, and it was well over a 7 hour drive to our campground from Lethbridge. Therefore, we crossed the border at Roosville, BC/Rexford, MT at 11pm, heading to a small first come first serve campground just past the border. We arrived at the Montana campground shortly after to find it was full (joy), but were relieved to find they had overflow camping in a parking lot. So we pitched the tent super fast and were in bed by 11:30. Boom. Day 1, over. 

But Saturday was where things got interesting and when I had a major life revelation that I would like to share with you. Bear with me as I tell a bit about our journey, because I promise I have a somewhat profound point at the end. 

We left Rexford, Montana early Saturday morning to drive the remaining 4.5 hours to our campground in Idaho. I punched in the directions from Rexford, MT to Big Hank, ID into my phone and we left not thinking anything could possibly go wrong… We stopped at scenic points to take lots of pictures. We talked, laughed and jammed to music as we followed my GPS, who guided us turn by turn. We arrived at our campground and realized that not only was it not close to ANYTHING but that we hadn’t had service for the last 3 hours. This meant we literally didn’t know how to find anything. We had no map, no GPS and people looked at us like we were aliens when we asked where a grocery store was. Turns out, the last civilized town three hours back in Montana was where we should have loaded up on groceries. And maps, apparently.

A nice elderly couple directed us to a convenience store 20 miles away (which made me wish I listened to my dad all those times he’s converted miles to kilometers so I had a ballpark of how far I should be going, but I played it cool and used my speedometer to convert it). We happened upon a building we thought the couple was talking about, turned out we were wrong, but found a nice lady who gave us two maps and an idea of what was around us (which was literally nothing except the store “at the Y of the road not even a tenth of a mile from here”. Our supper that night consisted of food from the convenience store at the “Y”- a can of soup for Melody and a package of sandwich meat and Gluten Free oatmeal I had packed for me. But hey, it was food. We were flying blind and doing the best we could. 

But as we were driving the 20 miles back to our campground, I realized that the maps we had only would take us back to the Idaho/Montana border, not back through Montana to our border crossing. There were many turns we made in Montana that I absentmindedly completed, totally taking my GPS for granted and not thinking hey, I haven’t had service for the last 3 hours, maybe I should record the turns we are taking. I realized I had literally no clue how to get home. I knew how to get to the Montana border (without a map even), but after that, I was floundering. Now for someone who likes a plan, I a) felt stupid for not packing maps or downloading offline maps and b) was a little concerned about how to find my way. 

And that’s when I had my profound “Aha!” moment. I was sitting in a hammock at our campsite, looking at the Idaho map, trying to navigate the National Forest Road we were on to the I-90 & I-95 to Coeur D’Alane (which was where we were planning to go on Sunday), when suddenly it hit me. Stick with me as I use a driving illustration. 

This season of my life has been like driving without my GPS guiding me at every turn. Instead, its been like trying to find my way through a massive forested state where every curve looks the same without a map. There have been times I literally have had no clue where I am and where to go next. Its felt like a guessing game. Then there have been times where I’ve had a map, but I struggled to manage the size of it and hone in on the section I actually needed to be looking at. There’s been times I’ve driven the wrong way. All of which has been overwhelming, scary, anxiety provoking and panic inducing. There have been many times I’ve wished for my GPS to just chime in again and tell me to turn right or make a stupid U-Turn even. Days, weeks, months where I’ve wished and prayed for some sort of sign but didn’t “have service”. But what I do know is I never gave up. I wandered and wandered, fought so freaking hard and y’all, I’ve got a map now. I feel like I’ve got some direction. Now it’s not the master directions (GPS) I wished I had, but I’m wrestling with my over-sized road map and honing in on the small section that actually matters to me right now. I’m learning it’s ok to not always know what is next – to not have the next 500 miles and back mapped out. I learned this weekend I can survive even without a plan. That taking it step by step can actually be a fun adventure when panic doesn’t rule your life. 

So if you feel you’re lost and have no direction, know this. Your map is coming. And while it may take you some time to learn to manage its size, awkwardness and route, you’ll find it. It may not be the handy GPS ladies voice telling you to turn every time, but you will find your way. Because you’re a fighter. You’re a survivor. So hone those survival skills and keep looking for your giant and awkward road map, because I know it’s out there.

Keep walking, dear friends. We are survivors. 

Wandering with you in love, 

Becca