I seem to have become a walking magnet for transportation-related calamities. Car, train, plane, bus, on foot, even by boat--pick a way of getting around, and I've probably found myself smack in the middle of some outrageous circumstances involving it.
One of my dumber moments came during the drive home in 2016. I'd left my car in the long-term lot at the airport for the weekend, and I rode down there on Monday morning to pick it up and start home. My remote wouldn't open the door, and the engine wouldn't turn over when I tried the key. It wasn't until I called a courtesy truck for a jump that I realized what was going on: I'd forgotten to turn off the headlights when I parked five days earlier!
That night, after pushing the "Go Home" button on my GPS and following its directions faithfully, I found myself driving on a narrow, barely lit, two-lane blacktop road in a part of North Carolina I'd never seen in my life. After a good ten miles of this nonsense, I stopped at a McDonald's, restarted the GPS,and put in my home address specifically--and it put me on the road I knew would lead me home. To this day, I don't know where "Go Home" would have led me, and I'm not entirely sure I want to.
Between these two minor disasters, though, I spent a thoroughly enjoyable day at the National Museum of the Marine Corps. It stands out for me because it's the first bit of sightseeing I've done on the way to or from BronyCon. I began to incorporate side excursions like that into my trip--Fort Lee in 2017, the North Carolina Transportation Museum and the National Museum of the Civil War Soldier last year--and I'm hoping to do the same this summer. BronyCon has always had pride of place on these weekends, but I've grown to enjoy these and other sightseeing gigs as a welcome side benefit. And if I have to put up with one or two or three "how the heck did I get into this mess?" moments along the way, it's a relatively small price to pay for clapping eyes on a few things and places I might not otherwise have had the chance to see for myself.