At first GiPSy was fantastic! We had driven into Georgia (and were in the thick smoke from the forest fires) when suddenly she silkily announced "At next exit, take immediate right!"
My son (SaurKid) and I glanced at each other in surprise, but I obediently took the exit which was right there. We pulled over to consult a map: This didn't seem right.
Suddenly GiPSy stated "When possible, make a U-turn!" A U-turn would take us back onto the interstate! We were confused.
"Perhaps she's developed a glitch due to all the smoke," I suggested, "because I think we still need to be heading north on the interstate." SaurKid disagreed: He thought any GPS would see through smoke. Still, we had little choice but to take a chance and follow her corrected directions.
I returned to the interstate.
Sure enough, we re-entered the interstate and all was as well as before. GiPSy acted as if nothing had happened. She calmly guided us out of Georgia and throughout the exits and roads that took us up into North Carolina.
As the roads began to get a little steeper, and the drop offs on the sides grew deeper, I grew more nervous. Being a Floridian and living in a flat world, I have always fought a neurotic fear of heights, and I don't enjoy looking to the side where a simple turn of a steering wheel could plummet us to our deaths. Never the less, I was determined to make it to our destination near Maggie Valley.
As the incline increased, my little Floridian rental car groaned a bit louder. There was no where to easily turn off, and I was afraid to change gears while driving an automatic (I am much more familiar with my stick-shift). Although I was tempted to change it to "3", which seemed to be a good idea for more mountainous areas, I held off until I reached the small town my parents' vacation home is in.
We entered the town, with GiPSy continuing her helpful directions: "Turn left!" "Turn right in 500 feet!"
The town itself was relatively level (being located in a valley) but as we progressed, it was apparent that GiPSy was directing us toward a nearby mountain. At this point, I was supposed to pull over and call my parents. However, when I picked up my cell phone, I discovered that it was dead.
"Ah well," I said to SaurKid, determined to appear fearless, "It looks as if we should just go on up to Grandma and Grandpa's place. There's no sense trying to find their number: Why don't we surprise them?"
"How bad can it be?" I privately thought. Studies show that if you show a child your fear, it's quite possible that he can also develop that same fear. I was hesitant to display this, even though SaurKid is almost 14. SaurKid was OK with whatever I chose to do, so we continued our journey to the foot of the mountain.
When we reached the mountain, I decided to switch to "3", and was glad I did. The car complained less as we progressed on the narrow mountain road, with the incline getting ever steeper and the drop-off to the side getting ever deeper. I kept my eye steadily on the road. The only way you could've told that I was nervous was if you'd glanced at my hands, which gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled.
The incline had grown to a 30 degree angle, with some turns that were 45 degrees, when GiPSy chirped sweetly "Turn left!" At this point I was facing a paved road on the right, and a dirt road with gravel to the left. I told SaurKid a little nervously that it was certainly getting farther and farther away from civilization, but I swallowed, steeled myself, and continued.We soon left the paved road far behind, as the road continued to angle upwards. It also grew increasingly narrowed, and we soon found ourselves proceeding on a dusty, slippery dirt road at mostly a 45 degree angle, with barely any road on either side of the path, before a half-a-mile plunge straight downward on the left. I drove slower and slower, terrified of making any wrong moves, as we wound our way onward, following GiPSy's commands.
Suddenly GiPSy warbled demonically, "Turn left!"
"Turn LEFT?!" I said incredulously, looking to the left and straight down the mountain. I had reached a slightly wider area of the road and stopped, smack-dab in the middle of it. I pulled up my emergency brake. SaurKid's eyes were as wide as saucers. "There's something wrong with the GPS!" he said breathlessly.
"Oh NO," I howled. "I can't do this! I can't go on!"
Just then a white car approached us, coming down from above. It slowly proceeded around us. "Stop them!" I screeched to SaurKid. "Stop them NOW!"
SaurKid jumped out of the car and frantically waved them down. The car stopped it's downward progress and SaurKid hollered to him that we were lost. The man cheerfully replied that he'd been lost too, and was going down the mountain.
"NO!" I said. "Don't let him go! Tell him I'm having a panic attack!" For, indeed, I was. At this point SaurKid gesticulated frantically, and the driver parked his car and struggled back up to us. It was an older gentleman, who peered into the driver's side window at me.
"Sir," I said, "PLEASE help me. I can't go an inch up or an inch down, any more. I'm freaking out!" It was probably most apparent: I was very pale and in a cold sweat.
The gentleman said "Would you like me to drive your car for you?"
"Oh YES!" I replied. "Yes! Thank you VERY much. But who will drive YOUR car?"
"My son's with me," he replied easily. "He'll be able to handle it down the mountain. I admit, it's a very scary road! I've never been up here, though I live at the base of the mountain. We got lost, or you never would have met us. Why don't you get out of the car, and sit in the passenger's seat?" I quickly complied.
We all got in, he turned on the car, and proceeded forward, up the mountain! "Why are you still going UP?" I asked, nervously.
"Well, we obviously can't turn around HERE, and I don't relish going down backwards," he stated. At this point, GiPSy said slyly "When possible, make a U-turn."
When we reached a point higher-up, where it was possible to barely turn around, he did (as I stared straight down into the bowels of the mountain through my passenger-side window). We proceeded down the mountain behind his son, carefully, as GiPSy warbled homicidal sentiments at us: "Turn right, NOW!" and "When possible, make a U-turn!"
"Can you turn that thing off?" asked the man, who (although very kindly) was obviously growing slightly intolerant of our version of H.A.L. I fumbled with the thing, then handed it off to SaurKid to shut down.
We returned to the paved road, this time taking the right instead of the left. Within a short time, we had found my parents' house which, although located on a steep road, was at least perched above a PAVED one.
We left GiPSy off until the return trip, when we were well off the mountain.
Tomorrow: Pictures from our trip
