We bought a GPS for this road trip. Eleanor named it Carol (as in "Carol the Computer"). I love Carol. She has already made our trip so much easier, what with her trustworthy voice telling us to "turn left in point one miles," and her ability to tell us where the nearest grocery store is. Well, as Jen mentioned in her post today, Carol and I led us astray this afternoon. Okay, Carol, as always, did just as we asked. It was I who led us astray.
When we were leaving Seneca Falls to head to Cooperstown, Jen said, "I have the motel address printed off in the New York folder. Let's type it in and go there first." Good idea. Man, I love Carol. However, what I failed to notice was that the sheet Jen printed also had the off-season MAILING address on it (Jen had written the motel address at the top). As it turns out, the off-season mailing address is actually someone's home smack dab in middle of Nowhere, New York. As the road Carol politely told us to turn onto narrowed and turned to gravel, I quickly got the feeling something was wrong. I was sure Carol wasn't wrong -- that's how quickly I've become smitten. Could Jen have made reservations for us at some Deliverance-meets-the-Bates-Motel place? Not possible. I'm surrounded by smart women. No, the person in the wrong was me.
As it turns out, the person who works at the Hickory Motor Lodge and receives the mail in the off-season has a bit of a commute. That's all I'm going to say.
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