We all know the Robert Frost poem-turned-mantra, “The Road Not Taken,” where Frost concludes: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I— I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.” We love to ascribe to the deeper meaning of the poem and put it as a senior yearbook quote to show that we are different. Pause, remove the metaphor. How often do we actually take the physical road less travelled?

Does it make a difference? I think so.

Turning off my GPS has been a gradual lesson in driving confidence. Believe it or not the U.S. and state governments do a pretty good job labeling roads if you pay attention. Starting off on my journey and navigating through cities pushed me towards using my GPS as a guide to my next stop, but somewhere in the south western U.S. near the Grand Canyon I was heading towards a campsite that didn’t have an address. I stopped paying attention to the GPS and needed to start using maps. Yes, paper ones.

For a while I used my own written directions and then had the GPS on as back up. But I was frustrated with the constant “ETA” feature which made me feel rushed to get to certain locations when my time of arrival was pushed back minute by minute. Following my own schedule on a month-long trip took some time to adjust to.

Turning off my GPS was the best decision I could have made getting towards moving the way I wanted to.

For the past week or so I followed California Rte. 1 up the coast and the Pacific Highway (Rte. 101) once I was out of California. If you’re unfamiliar, the route follows up the entire west coast. Picture beaches and crystal blue ocean to the west, the winding road in front of you, and hills or mountains directly to the east—nice to look at.

My final push to cut the GPS came when I jumped off Rte. 101 in northern California to drive down “Avenue of Giants.” The name sounded interesting and by powers of deduction I was hoping it might lead me to some big Redwoods, which it did. I followed through unfazed by my travel time. I listened to “Transatlanticism” by Death Cab for Cutie and it the ancient trees relaxed me. The sun whispering between car-sized trunks and the tiny sliver of sky above the road created an alternate reality if only for a few hours.

I made it so far north in Washington I’m almost in Canada. Every time I get a little worried I might be off track or lost, I get small reminders I’m okay. In the Redwoods I saw a Sugarloaf sticker and met a park ranger from Brunswick, Maine. If I had followed my GPS I would have missed the Redwoods and these reminders of home.

I’ve learned a lot from turning off my GPS such as:

-I’m more confident using maps and my own general sense of direction.

-I’m more aware of my surroundings.

-I’m able to take advantage of many sights or activities I wouldn’t have seen on the major freeway.

-I’ve been able to reduce my dependance on time-structured and centric days.

-I’ve also learned to be more playful and take chances. Sing loudly, moo at cows when I drive by them, and laugh at myself.

In the past week I’ve been in Santa Barbara, San Fransisco, the Oregon coast, Forks, Washington, Olympic National Forest, everywhere in between and I’m currently in Bellingham, Washington.

Cue Laura Marling singing, “I’m going back east where I belong.”

I’m making some stops along the way but essentially I’m headed home at this point. I can’t believe three weeks have passed since I left Maine.

A quick shout out to my Dad on Father’s Day. Love you!

Now, some pictures of the past week: