Karen and I have had a love -- hate relationship with our Garmin navigation system. Over the past several years “she” tried to direct us through a fence into a herd of New Mexico cows and to a supposed Motel 6 in a grassy Montana field. Once, at the start of a day-long marathon drive, she sent me on the ramp of an Iowa freeway where the next exit was ten miles back towards where I had started. More than once she attempted to create a traffic pile up with me the center of the "situation." I can only imagine how a judge would rule if I tried to use "I was just following Miz Garmin's directions" as an excuse for creating roadside chaos. Karen never could understand the Australian accent that I had selected for her. I had conceived that idea so Miz Garmin could make traveling more of an exotic experience.
And so we had ambivalent feelings when Miz Garmin met her maker as we stopped for a night in 100 Mile House, British Columbia. As I reached to remove the nagging "lass" from her windshield perch, to protect her from would be Garmin nappers, Karen turned to grab an apple from our back seat. Our arms locked like a couple of senior citizens swinging around the square dance floor and Miz Garmin took a flying lesson. Her landing failed to qualify her for a pilot's license.
During the ensuing days the romantic side of our relationship resurfaced. Our printed maps failed to show us how to negotiate roundabouts without a few practice exits in unplannd directions -- or even necessarily how to cross the border from the bottom of British Columbia into the top of Washington without a side excursion through the drive-thru lane at a Tim Horton's donut shop. Roadside signs were obviously designed for locals who already knew the way.
In retrospect, we hadn't updated our Garmin GPS since the Lewis and Clark expedition but I was sure roads hadn't changed much since then. Thus, against the recommendations of friends, I had stuffed the fifty or so bucks the update would have cost back in my wallet when we set off for Miz Garmin's destiny at 100 Mile House. So, a couple of days later, when we purchased Miz Garmin II, which has unlimited updating abilities, I figure we got a $50 discount off the purchase price. Not a bad deal, I'd say. For once I'm glad I was so cheap.
The only downside -- her raspy voice suggests Miz Garmin II is a smoker. That makes me want to refer her to “smokers anonymous” whenever she tells me she's once again recalculating. Then again, maybe it’s just because she’s getting hoarse from so many repetitions of that phrase.
Karen's love of rodents was as strong in British Columbia as in the US. However, I rejected the notion that if we followed this one's directions we'd do as well as we did with Miz Garmin.
Without Miz Garmin nagging us to turn right, left, recalculating, Karen was able to focus her camera on the patterns of this British Columbia mountainside in peace.
Karen couldn't resist lining up these pine cones for a family photo op.
Without Miz Garmin I felt we were driving in a fog -- like the one surrounding these crows at Deception Pass, Washington.
And so we had ambivalent feelings when Miz Garmin met her maker as we stopped for a night in 100 Mile House, British Columbia. As I reached to remove the nagging "lass" from her windshield perch, to protect her from would be Garmin nappers, Karen turned to grab an apple from our back seat. Our arms locked like a couple of senior citizens swinging around the square dance floor and Miz Garmin took a flying lesson. Her landing failed to qualify her for a pilot's license.
During the ensuing days the romantic side of our relationship resurfaced. Our printed maps failed to show us how to negotiate roundabouts without a few practice exits in unplannd directions -- or even necessarily how to cross the border from the bottom of British Columbia into the top of Washington without a side excursion through the drive-thru lane at a Tim Horton's donut shop. Roadside signs were obviously designed for locals who already knew the way.
In retrospect, we hadn't updated our Garmin GPS since the Lewis and Clark expedition but I was sure roads hadn't changed much since then. Thus, against the recommendations of friends, I had stuffed the fifty or so bucks the update would have cost back in my wallet when we set off for Miz Garmin's destiny at 100 Mile House. So, a couple of days later, when we purchased Miz Garmin II, which has unlimited updating abilities, I figure we got a $50 discount off the purchase price. Not a bad deal, I'd say. For once I'm glad I was so cheap.
The only downside -- her raspy voice suggests Miz Garmin II is a smoker. That makes me want to refer her to “smokers anonymous” whenever she tells me she's once again recalculating. Then again, maybe it’s just because she’s getting hoarse from so many repetitions of that phrase.
Just beautiful photos, K and D! I feel the same way about Miz Garmin and her relatives as I do about getting a flu shot - never had one and I hope I never will! xxoo, sus
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sus: I must say when we're looking for street addresses, "she" has really helped at times. But, then again, searching for Daniel Smith in Seattle, she lead me to their warehouse -- a long detour through heavy traffic. An hour later we finally found their retail outlet.
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