Slipstream - October 2016

The Route Less Traveled: The Not-So-Savvy Navi
By Bill Bradley
Images Courtesy of the Author
y wife Judy recently purchased a new Honda
Odyssey. It came with every imaginable
M
option, sixteen computers to run the electronic
gismos, but, regrettably, no navigation
system. So I gave her my Garmin, which came with
lifetime map updates and was a cinch to operate. This
forced me to actually use the Navi in my 2006 911. For
the uninitiated, operating instructions for this aged
Navi take up many pages of arcana deep inside the
user’s manual. This is truly something that belongs in
the core curriculum of Hogwarts University.
My Carrera was not new when I purchased her. This
meant pre-owned, high end car lot jargon for expensive
used vehicles. She’d had two previous owners before
I saw her in the back row, looking at me with those
puppy dog “buy me” headlight eyes of hers.
Before giving up my Garmin to help the Odyssey
find its way around town, I had used it to download
the turn-by-turn directions for the Sunday (quixotically
usually held on Saturday) drives. Previous to learning
the somewhat kludgy (to me anyway) download method
for the Garmin, I had just tagged along, making certain
in get in the middle of my drive group before we
started off. This way, if I got lost, I would not be alone.
Eventually our drive leader would backtrack to find us
or we would pass another group, usually passing us in
the opposite direction.
I have been experimenting with the Navi in my
911. Keep in mind my car is ten-plus years old. The
first destination I entered were routes for which I was
already familiar: the Spring Creek BBQ and Kincaid’s
Café lunches. Last week, Sean Ratts was kind enough
to repair the power cord on a set of dog clippers for us.
I should mention that Judy is a long-time Irish Setter
breeder, show person, and AKC judge. I got Sean’s address
in Denton, entered it in the Navi, and off I went,
secure in the knowledge that anything Dr. Porsche had
a hand in would have impeccable manners.
I headed up I-35E, crossed the Lewisville Lake
Bridge, and followed directions to Seans’ house. It
worked flawlessly. Sean and I exchanged pleasantries.
We admired each other’s cars. I took the repaired power
cord, thanked him profusely, and left.
It was hot, so I put the top up and then selected
Home on the Navi. (I did mention this car is ten-plus
years old, didn’t I?) During this time span a certain
amount of Teutonic impishness has found its way to
into the Navi’s circuitry. I was not to return to Flower
Mound over the Lake Lewisville Bridge. No, now I
was heading west into the country. I was in no hurry. I
would enjoy the ride.
And enjoy
the ride I did.
Out through the
country on winding
roads, past
gorgeous homes
with manicured
lawns and tall
trees. I was in
horse country.
Thanks to my Porsche navigation, circa 2006
ten-plus-year-old
Navi, I was not in bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-35E,
but instead enjoying the scenery while “sports-wagening”
(my linguistic invention pronounced with the
German “v”) along. Apologies to Michael Vatter here.
I came out on the western edge of Flower Mound. I
switched off the Navi. No need for it, as I knew the way
home from here. My only problem was going to be getting
my Garmin back for the turn-by-turn downloads
for the Saturday/Sunday drives. There is debate as to
adding a factory navigation system to the Odyssey. But
that is another story.
30 October