detour

Life has many detours, doesn't it?  I think there is something beautiful in the detour.  

Maybe it is the fact that the detour makes us pay attention.  It's new and unfamiliar.  Our eyes open and we see new things.

Maybe it is the sense of adventure that detours inspire. A journey into the unknown with the assurance that this new path can lead us back to where we were headed in the first place.

Maybe it's because the detour often causes us to slow down, dig in, breathe, and move - cautiously, carefully.

We recently took a road trip to a familiar place, the route an equally familiar path.  We traveled through Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia on roads less traveled.  Sometimes these roads spread four lanes across, but other times we simply had one lane each direction.  I am not a fan of road trips, but there is a warmth in my heart for this trip - especially the color of the mountain tops covered in autumnal trees.

You may know a town we come upon on this road: Berkley Springs, West Virginia.  A quaint, artsy little town nestled in the mountains and known for its spa and shops.  And we arrived on Apple Butter Festival weekend which apparently draws a large crowd from all over.  

Guess what!  We arrived at parade time. Road closed. Approximately 1 mile back from the parade route.  Traffic stopped! No cell service. Hmph!

We were faced with a choice - sit and wait or explore the hills and valleys of West Virginia.  I pulled out my phone, searched my maps and found a few squiggly lines I could only presume were roads that might lead us to the other side of the parade route.  I looked at Papa Bear.  He agreed.

An important side note: About one month after we started dating in college, we were invited to an off campus party.  I had a car for a brief stint and so we drove to the party together.  We made it to the party just fine.  On the way home, we second guessed a freeway exit and ended up driving for hours (probably in circles), stopping every 30 minutes to fill the gas tank one dollar at a time.  We were poor college students and definitely not prepared for the detour.  Cell phones or ATMs didn't exist yet.

We talked, and laughed, and silently worried that we wouldn't find our way home.  I suspect we were both a little worried that the night would end as would our time together.  We found a Taco Bell and stopped for a bite.  Eventually we found our way home.

Here we were again about to embark on an adventure.  I followed the squiggles on my phone and instructed him to turn right.  Instinctively, he pronounced the name of the street.  I have no street names on my phone, I said.  We held our breath.  He took the next turn as instructed. And the next. And the next.

Somehow the landscape turned from cloud covered gray with rock on either side of the roadway to an expansive, colorful, bright, and glorious view.  And we paid attention to what we saw.  There were moments filled with angst like when we made our final left turn and found ourselves on a one lane road with oncoming traffic.  

Nope, it wasn't a one way road.  Just a back-mountain spirally, narrow road.

Alas, we made our turn just south of the parade and smiled as we past the north bound traffic stuck just as we had been.  This time we trusted the other to get us back on track.  This time we were prepared for the detour.  This time we weren't sad about the end of the adventure.  For we are now old and seasoned enough to know that there will be more detours in this life of ours.  We know that we will be together to travel them. We know to pay attention along the way. And together we will slow down, dig in, breathe, and move along.