For most of my life, maps have held a fascination for
me. If I happen to see one, regardless
of the context, I'm instantly drawn to it, nearly to the point of
distraction. There is something about
them that makes me want to study, understand, and learn.
It's weird.
I think it is a quirk I picked up from my Mom, as she behaves
similarly.
Given my fascination, I
always kept two maps in my car. The
first was a US
road atlas, so regardless of where I traveled I'd be armed with a reference to
guide me. The other was a detailed map
of Minnesota roads, spread across
96 full pages, which showed every little dirt road in the state. For someone as much into hunting as I am this
manual was like gold in finding new places to go and investigate. Likewise, in traffic jams coming back from
the cabin it was used by my wife and me to move cross-country and avoid the
back-up. It was an invaluable
resource.
These two maps always were
tucked in the pocked on the passenger side seat, and based on the number of
times I referred to them, they paid for themselves years ago.
I bumped into them while cleaning out my
vehicle last week, and surprised myself in realizing just how little I now used
these two once-critical references. Between the iPhone and Google Maps, I now
never have to look beyond my phone to understand where I am and which is the
best route for me to take.
As such, for
the first time ever in my life, I pulled all of the maps out of my vehicle. My wife logically expressed the desire to
throw these two books into the trash, and for any straight thinking man, that
would be the appropriate end. But I just
can't do it. So instead of sitting in
the back of my rig, going unused, they will now sit on a bookshelf and will
gather dust.
For a guy for a quirky
thing about maps, that's OK with me.
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