My Tennessee map says Martin and Trenton are connected by two key highways: south 45 and south 54.
The problem, though, as the mister and I discovered early Friday morning, is that west Tennessee confuses the poop out of Google maps.
The directions we printed said to turn right onto highway 54/Main Street about 20 minutes south of Martin. Well, there is a Main Street intersection in Greenfield (about 20 minutes south of Martin). This intersection also has a sign indicating that highway 54 north branches to the left.
So, logically, to follow 54 south we turned right at this intersection. We drove around a school and through some dead-end residential areas for ten minutes before deciding this was definitely not a highway and was not going to take us to Trenton.
So we take option number two: continue south of Greenfield on highway 45. We got to Bradford and found a sign that said 54, with no directions or other instructions to help the wayward traveler. We turn right, hoping this is the right highway. Again, ten minutes of wandering and no luck.
By this point, 8 a.m. (our appointment time in Trenton) is getting closer and we’re no closer to figuring out how to get there. I’ve called several local friends for directions and none of them answer. I’ve asked the mister to call the animal clinic we’re meeting with to ask for directions, but of course he can figure it out himself.
We eventually found a sign pointing to Trenton (on a different highway) and at least end up in the right city. Another 20 minutes of wandering through and around Trenton puts us on yet another highway. . . a highway that leads straight back to Martin.
. . . that we could have taken in the first place.
I’ve always considered the mister a practical person, but his true “man-side” came out when I asked him repeatedly to call for directions and he continued to insist that he could figure it out. All the while saying how lost we were and asking why I didn’t bring my GPS.
And of course, when he finally does call, we spot the building just as the receptionist answers. Somehow proving his point that we did not need directions. Even though we found the building completely by accident. And we were ten minutes late.
But thankfully, the veterinarians we were meeting were even later than us, so our panic turned out to be for nothing. But still, why is it such a big deal to ask for directions????
(I must add as a final note that the mister’s first question upon our arrival was, “There’s going to be a blog about this, isn’t there?”)