I was driving to an area of Ann Arbor over the weekend, by way of US-127 and I-94. I've never driven farther down 127 than Mason so it was an enjoyable drive, light traffic, everything. Good day for driving.

There is construction on the bridge which connects 127 and 94 so I, along with a line of other cars, got to take a nice detour through the middle of who knows where. Also referred to as "somewhere close to Jackson, but not." At any rate... I saw lots of Confederate license plates, jacked-up trucks with enormous high-tread wheels, and "Deer Processing Here" signs. Like I got off the highway in Michigan and landed in Alabama somewhere. Michigan is a strange place.

Once I reached my exit I misread the poorly-written directions and headed the wrong way. I suspected this mistake when the road I was on turned to dirt and gaping potholes, but being unfamiliar with the area, I continued. After passing an old barn surrounded by fleecy sheep, and then what appeared to be a castle, and then driving over a one-lane bridge, I decided that this was, in fact, the wrong direction. I turned around and headed back from whence I came, and eventually came to my destination, but I was going the opposite direction compared to what I thought.

That was strange for me, being someone with a fairly accurate sense of direction, but it was an overcast day and impossible to get bearings. Makes you appreciate those who sailed the world in search of new lands all the more.