When the GPS Says “Make a U-Turn,” Start Panicking

Photo: Jennifer E. Miller 2018

When the GPS Says “Make a U-Turn,” Start Panicking

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

Many drivers rely on GPS navigation systems nowadays to get them to their destination quickly and efficiently. Gone are the days of straining to read maps in the spotlight of the car’s dome light, only to find the desired exit’s number has disappeared into a folded crease. Simply plug an address into a James Bond-like computerized screen and voila! A personal assistant, let’s call it Agent Q, instructs drivers exactly where to turn, and even provides an expected arrival time. Missed a turn onto such-and-such avenue? No problem, Agent Q will reroute things appropriately with instructions to turn on a nearby side street instead, reconnecting you to such-and-such avenue. A detour, of sorts.

Occasionally, however, there isn’t an alternate street within close proximity. Here is when Agent Q says the proverbial “turn around when possible.” This is generally not cause for concern. Pull the vehicle over to the side of the road and, when safe to do so, make a U-turn in the opposite direction. Travel is corrected and continues as normal.

Such matters are complicated, however, when traveling on an isolated Canadian highway, intending to use the junction and merge onto the larger Trans-Canada Highway. For Americans, driving in Canada isn’t much different than the USA. We drive on the right, use the same (or very similar) laws, and since most cars are now equipped with automatic headlights, there’s no concern for that, either.* However, there’s still the trivial annoyances such as paying for gasoline by the liter, mentally converting KM/H to MPH, and finding the English words on bilingual English/French signs.

With the intent to head east on Trans-Canada Highway, you may come across some very worn directional signs. Combine that with 100 KM/H speeds, to an American, l’Est look an awful lot like west. By process of elimination, l’Ouest must be east. Steering onto the on-ramp, you drive your merry way.

“Turn around when possible.”

There may have been numerous places to flip a U-ey on the smaller highway, but on the Trans-Can it’s a bit more difficult; largely due to the fact there’s a cement center divider. No worries, just find a spot on the highway where it’s absent. Surely, the highway engineers didn’t spend their government’s money dividing the entire road’s length in this manner. Probably just a few miles or so.

“Turn around when possible.”

Yes, thank you, Agent Q, the driver is quite aware of that.

Another few miles and still no sign of a turn around possibility. A small town must be coming up somewhere along the route. Let’s check our GPS screen. There’s one; only 100 KM away.

Quick math: Traveling at 100 KM/H divided by a distance of 100 KM, equals—an hour’s drive. Now what?

“Turn around when possible.”

Shut up, Agent Q!

A glance at the gas gauge, convert estimated remaining gallons to liters, and calculate to estimated remaining kilometers on existing supply brings the present situation to: the-car-isn’t-going-to-make-it-to-the-next-town.

Shit.

There are a variety of options presented in this dilemma:

1) Keep driving until you find a space between the cement dividers.

2) Drive the wrong way along the shoulder, up the on ramp, and avoid a head-on collision and/or angry rage-filled drivers while nonchalantly recorrecting to Agent Q’s driving path.

3) Continue saying “shit” over and over in hopes that the road gods will magically transport you onto the correct roadway.

Bank that options 1 or 2 are the logical alternatives. However, several minutes have passed and by now you are ten plus miles from the interchange. Option 2 means driving against traffic for a rather long time. That means Option 1 is best—

Oh my god! There just went a space in the cement dividers!

Now what?

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. 

There must be another turn around spot. What if there isn’t?

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. 

Deep breath—exhale.

“Turn around when possible.”

At this point, you may be verbally abusive to Agent Q. He can handle it. But for you, the real possibility of driving until stranded begins to set in. There isn’t much else but wait out the inevitable.

Another ten miles or so pass when something up ahead catches the watchful eye of a worried driver. The top of the cement dividers, aligned one after the other, creates a fluid line. In an upcoming section, it appears to be broken. Could it be: an exit to freedom?

You slow down, ignore the annoyed honks, and rejoice. Flipping on the blinker, you squeeze the car through the opening. Turning around has been successfully completed.

Forgetting any nasty words exchanged with you, Agent Q politely informs you of your upcoming route and exit. At the junction, though, are those weathered bilingual guide signs.

"Turn around when possible."


*(If you’re old enough to remember, the joke was that those driving with headlights on during daytime must be Canadian as it was rumored headlights are required law 24/7.)

Copyright 2019 Jennifer E. Miller