My misadventure in our nation's capital

A couple of weeks ago a colleague and I took a trip to our nation’s capital (to quote Forrest Gump…and you should always quote Forrest Gump whenever possible) for business. It was scheduled to be a one-day visit for a boring meeting but, somehow, it turned into a near life threatening adventure. Why does that always happen to me?

The plan was to fly into Reagan National Airport, rent a car and drive to Solomon Island, MD; simple enough, right? To make it even simpler for me, my colleague was responsible for renting the car and had promised to provide a GPS to help find our destination. What could possibly go wrong? Famous last words.

Things started to unravel when I missed the flight out of Pensacola. I’m an experienced business traveler, I’ve probably made hundreds of flights over the years that were booked by someone else and this is the first one I have missed because I misread the itinerary…OK, one of the first.

I was embarrassed but I had no idea that catching the next flight to DC was going to be the easiest part on my journey that day. As an experienced traveler equipped with a cell phone, computer and a corporate credit card I was relatively fearless about getting to Washington and, ultimately, to my meeting in Maryland.

The truth is that I was headed for what I was sure would be a boring meeting and it wouldn’t have broken my heart to miss it…but I had to make a token effort to get there because…well, it’s my job.

With almost no effort I managed to get to DC and found my way to the rental car annex. At some point during the process of renting my car I realized I had no idea how to get from the airport to the comfort of my room in Solomon Island, MD. I had planned on being a passenger for this portion of the trip and my partner had assured me that his GPS would handle the navigation so I hadn’t bothered to look it up before I left.

When I asked the young man at the rental car counter if he could provide me directions to Solomon Island, MD he smiled and with his heavy Jamaican accent said, “I don’t know, Mon, I take de bus.” Swell.

He offered to rent me a GPS or $13 a day but I am much too proud (and cheap) to pay for what a map will tell me for free. I looked at the complimentary map on the counter and decided that I could find my way on my own.

The urban myth is that men don’t ask directions because we’re too stubborn but the truth is we don’t ask directions because we can use the Manual for Acquiring Places or MAP for short.  I can read a map but sometimes I can’t read exit signs very well.

I missed the very first exit I was supposed to take and ended up on a city street in downtown Washington, DC. I figured if I went around the block I would find the freeway…it makes sense, right?

What I didn’t factor in was that nothing in DC makes sense, so I turned right because left turns were not allowed. Imagine my surprise when I saw a solid wall of headlights coming at me and realized I had turned the wrong way on a one-way street!

I made an amazing and completely illegal U-turn followed by a quick right to avoid the headlights coming at me…that’s right; two opposing one-way streets came together right where I had exited. Only in DC!

Two blocks down the road I stopped in front of a lit up building to check the map. I was only a block away from an on ramp. I looked behind me before I pulled out and there wasn’t a car in sight. I glanced back to the left before I pulled out and paused…I was parked in front of the Lincoln Memorial, all alone with no one in sight.

I sat there in awe for a moment before flawlessly navigating the remaining 60 miles to my hotel. I don’t always get lost, but when I do its usually someplace exotic and sometimes even awe-inspiring. Stay on course my friends.