Going Around in Circles

I wonder if being directionally disabled is a genetic thing. My mother was, my sister is, my daughter is, and I am. That's enough evidence for me. But, if I doubted that this malady runs in the family, I have only to consider the trip my sister and I made yesterday to Pere Marquette State Park, supposedly a forty-five minute drive from my home. It took us two hours. We got lost so many times it was no longer funny.

This was in spite of having four sets of directions to get us from West St. Louis County to Grafton, Illinois. Two sets were from two different desk clerks at the Pere Marquette Lodge; one was a computer-generated map; and the last was a running monologue of instructions from my new navvy system. They were ALL wrong.

We arrived, eventually, but getting there was not half the fun.

Today, we were taking no chances. For our driving tour of Grafton (population 680) and surrounding environs, we had new verbal instructions, a guidebook and two maps. I would be hard pressed to count the number of u-turns, back-trackings, and dead-end streets we experienced. My sister was driving, and I was supposed to be "navigating." Right.

One thing I have learned: If my instincts tell me to turn right, I should definitely turn left. My instincts are unfailingly incorrect. Unless I am staring into the setting sun, I have no idea that I am going West. Then, calculating what that means in terms of North and South is another matter. When I leave the ladies' room in a restaurant—even when I've been there before—invariably, I go in the wrong direction. Sometimes, I don't figure that out until I hit a wall ... a real one.

I bought a compass once but never managed to set it up because I couldn't find North. I'm on my second GPS and am convinced that even the satellite is confused. I've tested the system by going somewhere familiar (having memorized the route) and found that the directions were backwards. I know which lane to get in to go East, but the navvy will direct me to the opposite lane and take me West.

It's disheartening to say the least and, frankly, getting worse with each passing year. The only explanation I can think of is that genetics and technology have conspired to keep me lost.