The road map in my trunk has mold spots on it. It’s still works unless I want to get around certain parts of northern California. My Mom gave it to me before I left on a road trip. I called the trip a vision quest, partially because I thought it was funny, but partially because I wanted to have someone else figure out my life. He politely declined the offer, or used ways of persuasion beyond my abilities to detect.
I don’t think I’ve used the map since that trip. I’ve looked at it a few times. It’s detailed, but I haven’t needed to use it. Most trips I just have a general sense of direction and get myself there. I suppose the maps I had before this one gave me some of the sense of direction I have. I’m not totally sure where my sense of direction came from, it’s tough to trace those things back. Windy logging roads and frequent turns on curvy one-way roads in cities still get me turned around. But for the most part I get around just fine.
Sometimes it’s fun getting lost, just to see where I come out. A lost highway dropped me in a small, out-of-the-way town in southern Oregon that had a diner with great biscuits and gravy. I find some pretty cool things on drives where I get lost. I like to chalk that up to providence; but though those types of things are difficult to trace back to a source.
I like the mold spots on my map, they add a certain amount of flair.