I skirted Decatur, breezed through Wichita Falls, crossed into Oklahoma, paid a toll, and turned off Interstate 44 toward Apache, Okla., where I made my first wrong turn.
The trouble with map apps is that by the time you realize you’ve taken the wrong road out of town and see the little blue bubble creeping away from the little blue line it’s supposed to be on, you’re 10 miles out of town and faced with a dilemma—turn around and find the road you missed or press on and find another, possibly quicker, route.
I chose plan B. I always choose plan B. Plan B is always wrong.
In Cyril, Oklahoma, after taking another wrong turn—I don’t understand how I can miss a turn in a town as small as Cyril, Okla., but I can—I was further away from my destination than I had been when I was only 10 miles away from the first wrong turn I took.
I eventually found my way to Anadarko, only to discover that the motel had indeed moved and it was almost dark by the time I checked in.