I call Pearl Girl often from the road and lament about how I never get lost anymore. Night driving and sense of direction are no longer issues; earmarked Atlases no longer flail around in the backseat. I'll never again stop in someone else's small town to ask them where I am, buy the town's namesake shot glass, then leave as fast as I arrived. No more getting lost. The GPS only allows detours...

I call Pearl Girl often from the road and lament about how I never get lost anymore. Night driving and sense of direction are no longer issues; earmarked Atlases no longer flail around in the backseat. I'll never again stop in someone else's small town to ask them where I am, buy the town's namesake shot glass, then leave as fast as I arrived. No more getting lost. The GPS only allows detours.

Road trips have a few staple monkey wrenches: car breaks down, inclement weather, getting lost. Much to my surprise, I'm sad to see the last one go. Each of these is responsible for countless side stories and highlights, not to mention how often in hindsight they end up leading to the best moments of every vacation.

Downloaded to the GPS is every destination on this trip. Situationists be damned.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the highlights of my trip occur when I discover a building worth a visit that I had up to that point never heard of. These anomalies became little vacations; the element of unfamiliarity providing all the exoticism of getting lost, but with a navigator sidestepping all the pitfalls.

Before leaving Scottsdale, per the recommendation of the architect himself, I managed to set myself up for a little surprise. I hope you enjoy.

Again, thank you so much to my sponsors and archinectors. Putting these together has been an incredible detour.

Watch your head,
Marlin