Choosing the Better Path

Roads.

We traveled many roads this summer.

Since I spend a lot of time driving, and sometimes, like over the weekend in Vermont, the road is stunningly beautiful and thankfully not terribly congested or difficult to drive, I am often inspired during the meditative driving time with ideas I want to share and since I have the time, I compose articles in my head as I drive.

Roads.

Thankfully, with all the driving we do, my husband and favorite travel partner, Greg, and I agree that the roads traveled are part of the adventure.

I started this article as we began our return trip from northern Vermont to our hotel for the weekend in Leominster, Massachusetts outside of Boston, and Greg started his turn at the wheel. I drove the first 3.5 hours, he drove home! He mentioned that the landscape looked a lot like the landscape outside of Whitehorse, Yukon Territory in Canada, where we have also driven this summer. And I agreed.

We have driven places this summer that are very different from our typical Midwest travels around Chicago and to suburbs, and to Michigan and back to see family.

Roads.

We were in Alaska in June. The small town where we stayed is only reachable by ferry or sea plane, or the one road in or out in either direction. Seriously. On our Canada day, we rented a car and drove out of town on the north road, up over the mountains northeast of Skagway and into British Columbia, Canada, towards our final destination of Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.  The Canadian border is closer to Skagway (15 miles) than any other town in Alaska (next closest town of Haines is 20 miles away and a 90 minute drive).

The road out of Skagway towards Canada is all in the mountains, and the views are breathtakingly glorious. And perhaps terrifying, if you don't like mountain driving. There are switchbacks, sharp turns, roads hugging the sides of a mountain, tall rock walls on one side and dizzying drops on the other, and so many signs warning us of steep grades, narrow lanes, no passing, falling rocks, and other things that can potentially kill us in a blink.

Once we passed into Canada, the mountains gave way to rocky high plains. It is stunning and stark, rocky and harsh and beautiful, dotted with lakes and scraggly pine trees hanging tightly onto the rocks.

I remember thinking then, like I did that day in Vermont, that roads are amazing. And the people that make them are amazing, too. Think about it.  We were on a road in Alaska and Canada. There is not much out there now, and there were even less 125 years ago when the town was founded and the roads were first built.

Consider the optimism of the road builders. The belief that there would be a need for the road. 

Or the forethought of the builders, that the roads would be the reason that people would come, that the roads were needed for there to be places to go.

And they built the roads, though smooth and even areas and through inhospitable and harsh terrain.

Optimism or delusion?  Who knows!

That is what I was pondering on the drive. And, where we are in northern Vermont, none of the roads were straight.  NONE.

Which makes me consider Paths of Least Resistance.  (I told you I had a lot of time to think!)

The road builders most likely started with paths or rough roads, created over time by animals, like game trails, or travelers before there were actually roads. Those early travelers created paths due to need, the need to get from one place to another for commerce or adventure or expansion. Through trial and error, they found A way and then with practice, they came up with the Best Way to get through the forest or over or around the mountain, or to where the river was narrowest so they could get across it, or where the river was deepest so they could use it for travel with boats.

Here in the Midwest, our roads are straighter though not always.  We have fewer mountains, for certain, but many large private tracts of land and - oh, right - the Great Lakes and so many smaller lakes and rivers!

That day in Vermont, we traveled roads that were built by climbing mountains, bridging rivers, or cutting through solid rock. Which, for the faint of heart, seems ridiculous when I say it loud, doesn't it? 

And, my friends, now I am getting to the point of today's article and episode.

Don't we do this, too?  Yes, we do. 

We spend a lot of time figuring things out, even when things are hard. Because we have to. If, metaphorically speaking, we want to get through or around the forest or mountain or river, we have to figure things out.  If we want to go anywhere else other than where we are or where we have been, we have to figure things out.  We may start out taking the paths of least resistance through the hard parts, but as we refine the path, we may realize that there is a better way, or that we might just have to blast through solid rock.

Paths of least resistance are not paths of No resistance.  Unless we want to stay where we are in life, or even go backwards, we need to move forward, and sometimes the way seems really daunting. 

We chart a course out of choice or need or desperation. And first we may choose the path of least resistance. Least resistance still might have roadblocks. We can remember it may still be tough, and also we can remember that we can take actions to remove resistance.  We explore a different path to our desired destination. We take the long way with fewer perils, we choose a road because of the season or our companions, or we like the scenery!  Or, well, we blast through a boulder to forge a new path completely.

Roads.

So, what did we learn today?

We've had really good adventures this summer. 

I spend way too much time thinking while I drive. (Yes, I know.)

We should be grateful for the travelers who came before us, actually and metaphorically, who started making our roads. 

Paths of least resistance are not paths of NO resistance.

And we can take steps to make the roads clearer or easier by clearing roadblocks for ourselves and others, which will be a launching point for a few upcoming episodes!