Sisters vs. Waze

As we climbed the mountains near Ellijay, with hills the steepest my loyal Honda Pilot has ever maneuvered, we laughed until we cried. Laughing was so much more fun than concentrating on my terror of falling off the side of a mountain.

Why laughing? Laughing is what my sisters and I do when we are together.

Laughing because we were exhausted from traveling? Yes.

Laughing because we were so lost, we were sure we had discovered a new planet? Yes.

Laughing because we were starving? Yes.

Laughing because we were so happy to be together? Yes indeed.

The drive to Ellijay was easy. Our conversations started as we left my driveway. Minimal traffic, lovely weather, and, given that we headed out around 7:30 p.m., still light enough to enjoy the scenery.

We had the cabin owner’s directions to guide us. Or so we thought.

I have no clue which turn we missed. We made our first of many U-turns, some of them legal. We thought we were being diligent in following the directions. Heaven help you once you miss a left or a right. The world suddenly looks much bigger and more intimidating. And the sun was setting with lightning speed.

Laughing started in earnest.

My sister turned on Waze, the miracle out of Israel. Waze indicated we were on the wrong road.

We made another U-turn, laughing. How many miles did we have to travel to get on the right road? Too many!

Finally, Waze was much happier with us. Suddenly, one of my sisters started laughing hysterically. We were back where Waze had us make a U-turn. More laughing.

I pulled over and burst out laughing. (It’s too much of a challenge to drive safely with tears rendering you nearly blind.) This upset Waze. I started dreaming up ways to kill Waze and stop it from assaulting me with “recalculating.”

Finally, we were at the entrance to the park with the cabin. The darkness of night was upon us. After all, you don’t find road lights on a mountain. I am pretty much terrified of the dark.

Every time the Honda went up a steep hill, which was almost always, the hood blocked me from seeing the road ahead. In a state of virtual fear paralysis, I crept ever so slowly until I could see the road ahead. Believe me, no one was laughing. I did hear a few “whews.”

Waze continued to lead us, up and down, up and down. Like little sheep, we followed its lead. Our scheduled 1½-hour trip had stretched into a 2½-hour adventure, but Waze seemed so sure of itself. We did not turn unless told to do so, thereby missing at least two more turns. Laughing until it hurt.

Suddenly, and without warning, we heard our intuitive leader announce, “You have arrived at your destination.” We could almost see a virtual extended arm pointing to our alleged destination. (I must stop typing. I am laughing too hard at this memory. Get yourself a cup of coffee or tea; this could take a while.)

I’m b-a-a-a-ack.

All three of us squinted to see what wasn’t there. My two sisters got out of the car with flashlights, looking for our destination.

My sisters were bent over laughing. I could not pick my head up from the steering wheel.

Worst of all we had not been to or even seen a water closet in hours. Can you picture the scene?

Waze had failed us.

We were in the middle of thousands of acres of mountains. It was now 10 o’clock. Should or shouldn’t we call the owner?

After not so gently expressing mean words at Waze, we called the owner.

We were completely out of control. We tried so hard to stop laughing, to no avail. Thank goodness the owner was able to understand my sisters’ plea for help.

Twenty minutes later, and not a moment too soon, we arrived at our destination.

Waze had no idea whom it was dealing with. These three sisters know from challenges; these three sisters will take you down!

The sisters 1, Waze 0.