Directionless

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Either one is blessed with a good sense of direction, or not.  In this age, those who are not, generally invest in GPS equipment to assist them in finding their way around in this chaotic world.  Unbelievable as it may seem, there are still folks out there who fly by the seats of their pants, as we used to say.

I’ve driven out to the Lakeside Chautauqua Village near Marblehead easily eight to ten times in the last several years, so I should not need to rely on the directions I printed out, and look for a week or so right before I am heading there again, but I do and this time I could not find the more detailed directions.

Having missed the turn off from highway 77 to 176 I ended up close to Cleveland State and in the early segment of rush hour traffic.  Cars packed on the main roads downtown bumper to bumper and standing still were enough to trigger me to brazenly do a U turn right there find my way to 90 going west.

My guardian angel worked hard as I safely negotiated the traffic and didn’t breathe easily until I was far past the western suburbs of Cleveland.  I felt downright content by the time 90 West becomes Route 2.  I enjoyed glimpses of the yellow turning to rust colored leaves and great blocks of grassy fields, but the most beautiful view was Sandusky Bay with a bright pearly blue color and so little surface movement it looked flat.

Of course, I drove back and forth once inside the Lakeside complex as well, since the roads are all one way alternately in what probably made a great deal of sense to whomever organized the grid of streets a hundred years ago.  When I finally got the car parked and rolled out my bag and got into the house and to my room for the next few nights, I just left things there and followed the sound of familiar voices in the dining and meeting room to share greetings and hugs with other writers from other parts of Ohio.

As the evening wore on we enjoyed dinner together in the dining room and later some went to their rooms to write, others took walks in the brisk evening air, coming back to sit in the gathering room to sip wine and swap stories until one by one the yawns and sleep claimed all.

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