Pt. 4 The Carolina Detour Club. Would not recommend.

It said take “the next exit.”

So we did.

We stayed on the freeway for a little while then it told us to take another exit. Overconfident me and under educated on Maps I thought it would take us on another freeway.

Once we took the exit, suddenly we were on a two-lane highway. Not bad at first. Kind of peaceful, honestly. No weaving through traffic, no chaos. There were houses scattered around, so I figured we were good .

But soon the houses disappeared, and we were officially in the back country. I kept checking Maps and it kept saying “In 20 miles turn left.” So I figured it was just a long detour that would spit us back onto the freeway.

The biggest problem was that those roads were barely marked. And gravel in places, so going over 40 wasn’t happening. The only good thing? Both of my stowaways were fast asleep.

I finally came up on the turns Maps wanted.. and stopped dead.

The road looked like a one-lane path straight to Deliverance.

“Ma’am, I beg your finest pardon. No, we will not turn left,” I informed Maps like it could hear me. The road ahead was straight, so I went straight. I figured it would reroute or lead me back to the freeway.

Wrong, just wrong.

The farther we went, the closer the pines crept toward the road. I swear I could’ve reached out the window and plucked a leaf right off a branch. They were that close. (Which, honestly I could’ve used to entertain the baby. Assuming they didn’t eat it.)

At this point I am mumbling, “I F’d up… ohhh I really F’d up,” on repeat like it was a prayer. Veggie techno thumped cheerfully in the background, completely unfazed. My chanting finally woke up my daughter.

She’s use to my chaos, but I am guessing that was not the freeway she’d been dreaming about. Without missing a beat she said, “Great just like the time dad was driving back U. Kentucky all over again.”

To her credit, she took it well. Maybe a little too well, considering she was definitely laughing.

It’s okay, Mom. It happens,” she said, patting my shoulder gently.

It went fine for a little while after that. Until we hit a dead zone in service. Maps kept chanting recalculating. Hey Bear kept freezing mid-veggie rave. All I could think was:

“Just keep driving straight and pretend you know what you are doing.”

I thought “well damn, this isn’t good . But we must power through.” I kept scanning for a halfway decent road on the left to turn onto, anything that didn’t look like it led straight to a crime documentary.

Meanwhile, Hey Bear had moved into its more nefarious tracks. (And honestly, given the situation, any felt nefarious.)

I caught myself thinking, “Well that is pretty catchy. Also wildly appropriate for the current predicament.”

But I kept mumbling “I F’d up, oh I really F’d up,” and every so ofter my daughter would reach over and pat my should, and say, “It’s okay, Mom. It happens. We’ll get there.” Bless her patience. Meanwhile, the baby thank God, slept through all of it.

I kept driving straight, looking for any good road that didn’t look like it was a horror movie detour. And that is when Maps and Hey Bear froze.

But even without service, I could tell we’d dropped into the low country. Trees hanging heavy, roads narrowing. That eerie we-are-not-on-the-interstate-anymore feeling settling in.

My daughter “Mom, just find a gas station and ask for directions back to the freeway.”

Fine idea child. Very fine idea.

The problem?

There wasn’t a gas station with in 40 miles of our current Deliverance detour. At least none that Maps, when it actually worked, bothered to mention.

Then I remembered I still had a real map in the back. Paper. Lines. The whole shebang I told myself I’d give it three more minutes. Then I was pulling over and going full Lewis & Clark on that thing.

Thankfully, I spotted a road that actually looked safe-ish. I hit the brakes, backed up like a woman on a mission, and turned on it.

A few minutes later, like nothing ever happened. Maps came back to life, Hey Bear resumed it relentless chirping, and there it was:

A sign for the freeway.

I could’ve kissed it.

I was relieved.

“Thank you God. We are back to civilization!” was all I could mange.

A few minutes later, I spotted the on-ramp and absolutely floored it.

We were only a few minutes into the sweet, merciful freeway when I noticed the gas gauge. Of course we were nearly empty.

But then, like a beacon from heaven, a sign. Gas station, next exit.

When we finally pulled in, I stepped out of the car and thanked the heavens one more time that we were officially back on a freeway.

My daughter got the baby out. Baby just smiled at me so happy and carefree. No idea that Nana took them on a trip of the Carolina detour club.

I pulled out my phone to check how much farther we had left.

I’ll be damed, the whole nightmare detour ended up shaving an hour and half off the our drive.

Scary? Absoulety.

But a small baby stuck in a car seat any longer than necessary?

Honestly, that is the most terrifying thing of all.

My daughter looked at me wide eyed.

“Oh wow, Mom that ended up working out better than we could’ve hoped! Thank God it did, because I had no idea what we were going to do.”

Thank you, child. Just thank you.

They stretched, and I mentally braced myself for the last 3 hours. We hopped back on the road armed with a Red Bull and snacks. My daughter even vowed to stay awake. Soley to make sure I didn’t hit yes on anymore “shortcuts.”

This time, I went ahead and put Hey Bear on by choice. I slipped my sunglasses back on. And headed home.

But of course, history repeated itself. With just an hour to go, the binky wars kicked off again. Hey Bear music no longer working. We pulled over at the rest stop, trying to strategize how to survive the final stretch in peace.

I couldn’t even be upset with the baby. I was sick of the car too. At that point it felt like the never ending trip, and all three of us were just completely over it.

I was out of ideas, so was my daughter. We had one last desperate attempt left. We took her phone, mounted it creatively to the car seat so the baby could actually see the screen. And just like that, lighting in a bottle.

Baby jabbered and watched, and I just kept driving. A few bridges and a couple exits later, we were finally home.

We practically fell out of the car, put baby in the bouncy. Thanked God it was over.

Then, while recounting the whole adventure to my son-in-law. We dissolved in to full blown laughter trying to tell him.

Sitting there watching baby bounce and jabber. So happy, so content, while the tropical sunset melted across the sky.

They were home safe and sound laughing and smiling again.

0/10 would not recommend.

10/10 would do it again for them.

Thank you for reading the series. I hope you enjoyed it!