The road less traveled

By: Dan Kiessling

Holly was recently relating a story to her daughter, Reagan, about when Holly was “lost” in the Cohutta Wilderness, the point of the story being never to take a “short cut” with me.   We had gone on a one day family outing to Rock City/Lookout Mtn.  Since we had gone up I-75 I, as was and is my nature, decided to take a different route home.  In those pre GPS days it often proved to be a rewarding experience seeing new sights and places while.  The Cohutta Wilderness Area of Georgia held those expectations.  So with the kids in the back, I took a left on to Ga. Hwy 2 going east which was the general direction of home.

The highway quickly turned into a gravel road with steps hills, many switch backs, beautiful streams and majestic views.  Several turns, many forks in the road and no signs started bringing comments from those riding with me.  “Go Back, Turn Around, and we are lost” echoed from most of the children.  The road got smaller and smaller and less well maintained until it was but a large trail.  I was still enjoying the scenery but beginning to get anxious in that we had been in there for about fifty miles and four long hours.  Then the smallest voice in the back was heard to say “keep going Daddy, all roads lead somewhere”.  It was true and we did eventually slip out of the wilderness and back on a familiar Highway.  “All roads lead somewhere” became a favorite saying of Chelsea’s and I heard her use it too many times in our travels.  She was always the optimist and lived to take the road less traveled.

At about the age of 14, her first, by herself, cab ride also turned into a challenging adventure.  I had taken her brother to Austria long ago on our “roots” journey and promised Chelsea I would take her on a similar trip.  She was so excited when I told her that we were going to Paris.  Less excited when she figured out that it was Paris Casino in Las Vegas, but she was still looking forward to the trip.  My sister was there getting married and we were to be at the wedding.  Sister Lynn was staying in a different Hotel further down the strip.  Chelsea decided to visit with them and share a meal while I went back to the Paris to game.  We agreed that my sister would put her in the cab and I would be there to pick her up at the front door.  What could go wrong with that plan?

Lynn called to say that Chelsea was on her way and I went to the front door to wait.  Expecting a short ten minute ride, I started getting worried after fifteen minutes passed.  Then twenty, then thirty minutes passed. Finally she came bouncing out of the cab laughing and laughing.  She registered the concern and question evident on my face and between the laughter explained how similar “Paris” and “Harrah’s” sound to an immigrant cab driver.  She had totaled enjoyed her tour of Las Vegas.

Whether it was her new favorite country song, “Put a Little Gravel in Your Travels” or as I would like to think, a genetic predisposition to my driving habits she called me a few months ago excited about being lost on a country road.  She was trying to find a new way back between Savannah and Cleveland, Ga. and had gotten hopelessly lost.  She had one gravel lane and fenced fields on each side.  This evidently meant a lot to her because she took pictures and called not only me but her sister Holly too.  Not that we could do anything, but just to share in her excitement.  I still don’t know where she was but she did make it back with a smile on her face. 

The road that she has taken through life is much shorter than I would have hoped it to be.  It is lined on every side with beauty and song.  It has been paved with love, wit, and humor the entire way.  All those that intersected that road were fortunate to have crossed it and I know it was well lit with her having traveled it.  I have no doubt as to where that road led and I can only hope that my road no matter how long, bumpy and narrow will eventually reach the same destination.