The Road Less Marked

Today's road trip was one of those trips that make me happy to have a blog about trips. Especially delightful is the fact that Rand McNally was involved.

Today was Monday, after a 97-day weekend - my first day back at Sherwin Williams. As I went to hang up my coat, I glanced at the delivery boards. None at all, all week. I was disappointed, since deliveries are really the only part of the job I truly enjoy. So I mentioned it: "No deliveries," I said. "Oh yes there are!" said Diane the manager. So I was shown the three-deep pile of delivery orders and told that she and Carrie (the new 'third key' employee) had just about gotten them together. So I took all the trash in the building to the dumpster and returned to the front a while later. My mind was scrambling to remember how to enter delivery info into the computer and get the appropriate paperwork to print. The twenty gallons of laquer needed two bills of lading, always fun to diddle up. It took longer than it should have, but I got 'er done. Then I asked about the hand-written address on one order for a company callen N. D. Rustic Furniture. "Oh, Vinnie told him we'd deliver there today. Vinnie's out sick. I'll see if I can print you a map." A map might have been good.

So Diane went on her computer and came back with a set of directions from Rand McNally dot com. They were easy enough. Go out the main highway west to Perry Highway (where Route 19 turns south,) go twelve point six miles, turn right on Lake Road, go three miles and turn left on Dodge Road. Point seven miles later, you're there at 105 Dodge Road! Twenty point one miles total. Easy Peasy. So, I took my laquer, my paperwork and my directions and headed out.

I knew that if I took the much faster Interstate 79 to the next exit south, I'd be in the vicinity of my destination, so that's what I did. I got on Route 19 and kept a sharp lookout for Lake Road. And Whoa! There it was! I whizzed by it almost before I saw it. About a mile down the road I found a place to turn around. Back I went to Lake Road and turned. Keeping a close watch on the odometer, I looked for Dodge Road as three miles rolled up. No left turn there. There had been an unmatked dirt (ice and mud, really) road a few tenths earlier, and another a few tenths after, but I wasn't willing to set out into the woods on a sloppy road based on the vague hope of it being right. I pressed on. I reached the road to Atlantic and was sure now I'd gone too far.

I pulled over and whipped out my cell phone. Hurrah, there was a signal, even way out here in Amish country! I called the number without much hope. Amish customers often give a phone number of a neighbor or friend who really isn't much help when push comes to shove. This one rang six times and was picked up by an answering machine. I left a message, knowing full well that there was no point. I continued on, looking for a place to turn around, saw a couple of guys shingling a roof, and pulled in there.

"Hey," I called, "do you happen to know where Dodge Road is?" They didn't, but they said I should knock on the door and ask the residents. I did. They had not heard of Dodge Road, or N. D. Rustic Furniture, but they had computers up and running, so John invited me in to look at the detailed map he called up from somewhere. He showed me that there is another Lake Road down in Mercer County, in Sheakleyville. He showed me a convoluted series of secondary roads (paved??!) that would get me there. "And that is US 19 there." I thanked him very much and told him to come on down to Sherwin Williams for paint. "Say hello to Vinnie for us," he said. He's been there.

I eschewed the secondary roads and tore out for 19. I turned right, drove three miles to Sheakleyville, and kept a sharp watch out for Lake Road over in Mercer County. There were a couple of unmarked roads to the right, but no Lake Road. I pulled in to a gas station and went inside. Why yes, the mechanic under the car on the lift HAD heard of Dodge Road. "Just go back north on 19, and turn left at the Church of the Nazarene." I asked if it was unmarked. "Probably. But that's Lake Road. Turn left and go about five miles. If you come to County Line Road, you went too far, turn around and come back a ways." I thanked him very much and set out again. The road was indeed unmarked, but there were a couple of mail boxes in front of houses with numbers and Lake Road stickered on. At three miles there was a dirt road off to the left. I kept going until a few tenths later I came to County Line Road. I returned to the unmarked dirt road and turned right.

The first barn I came to had a mailbox out front that had '145 Dodge' stickered on it. Yay. I continued to the next barn, with a house set back at the end of a gravel driveway. There were no numbers anywhere, but there were an Amish mother and three-year-old boy walking toward the house. And there was a car parked in front! I turned into the driveway and, seeing no-one around the barn, headed for the house. The mother quickened her pace, as if she were afraid of me. I stopped way short and climbed out. "Excuse me," I said. "May I ask you a question?"  She stopped and turned around. "I don't know if I'll know the answer," she replied. "I'm looking for 105 Dodge Road," I said. "This is it," she said. "N. D. Rustic Furniture?" I asked. "That's my husband," she said. Jackpot! She said I should put the laquer in the barn, and I did.

Rand McNally: 20.1 miles, fifty minutes. Reality: 43 miles, ninety three minutes. If the directions had said "Drive to Sheakleyville, turn right at the Church of the Nazarene and left at the last dirt road before County Line Road, things would have gone much smoother. Evidenly, Rand McNally doesn't know everything.