Recently I read an essay praising paper maps. The writer had stopped at a rest stop and was surprised to see a small display of maps–free to travelers–on the desk. She went on to write how she loved paper maps and took one. I knew I’d found a kindred spirit.

I don’t have WAZE on my phone or whatever updated, upgraded GPS system there is. I don’t have one in my car. I don’t even have Google Maps, but I fear that one’s coming. What I do have is this envelope of lovely, colorful maps that have gotten me out of jams and back home more than once. More than once Hubby’s GPS has gotten us into jams! I’ve written about the time we followed our British-speaking guide and our car ended up on a bike/walking path? Bike riders looked at us basically speechless, only able to ask. “How did you even get on here?”

I’m not sure where the admiration for maps comes from. I don’t remember my dad ever using them–maybe he should have a couple times. He always seemed to find golf courses with no problem, so maybe he thought he didn’t need them. I do remember the AAA TripTiks with the flip pages so we could follow our route in ‘real time’, but even those we used only the few times we traveled to Florida.

There’s the artistic value with all the lines and colors, but it goes beyond that. When I look at a map fully, or even partially open, I’m seeing more area than what shows up on Hubby’s car screen. I can see where I am in relation to the bigger picture. Like I mentioned in an earlier post, it’s sometimes good to see ourselves small. I don’t want to navel-gaze on a computer screen, focused on the little arrow that’s indicating I’m ‘here’ when I have no context of where ‘here’ is.

Looking at the map I see all the towns I’d miss if didn’t have that color pencil-like drawing unfolded in front of me. Names of towns just beg to be visited. I want to visit Angier, NC, the name so close to angrier, just to see how nice the town and its people are. It’s right north of Coats, and Blues Springs, NC. How far west do you have to travel until you finally reach Due West, SC? Actually, pretty far. It’s almost to Georgia.

When I was homeschooling, I’d take our protractor, fix the point on our town, or another one as a starting point, open the pencil to equal 100 – 150 miles, and draw a circle enclosing our field of exploration. What could we see or do within that circle? I have a South Carolina, a North Carolina, and probably an Ohio map with circles overlapping like Venn-diagrams.

When I travel alone, I make my own version of the TripTik because I prefer secondary roads over highways and want to choose the route I take. Often that route isn’t one of the options given through a computer search. I prefer seeing where I’m going before I get in the car and keeping that visual along the way. Being honest, a big part of holding on to my maps is not wanting to listen to or rely on a computer. Hubby’s GPS has gotten us around some major snafus, but not enough to endear me to it.

Even in those times when I’ve missed a turn and didn’t realize it until miles down the road, I’ve been able to find a way back to where I belong without completely backtracking. I like using my brain, trusting my gut, figuring it out not entirely be myself, but with that inner voice that tells me I can. I don’t want to lose that connection to my own instincts. I’m not just talking about the asphalt roads.

I also don’t want to lose that sense of adventure when taking a wrong turn might end up being the right one. That’s not always about the asphalt roads either.

What about you? Any fellow map readers out there? I hope wherever you may roam this week – however you get there – there’s some adventure waiting for you.