People aren’t necessarily lost when they get to Floyd. They’re just not certain about where they’re going. Maybe it’s the lack of traffic signals, congestion and four-lane roads.
If they don’t have GPS or are relying on a Mapquest printout (which is pretty useless in these parts), they’re likely to ask someone on the street for directions. Because it’s a small town and I walk places, often times that someone is me.
“Can you tell me how to get to the Harvest Moon?” they might ask.
I ask them to pull to the curb and stop. I don’t like giving directions at walking speed while they’re creeping along Main Street with the passenger window down, head jerking back and forth.
“Go to the stoplight,” I begin.
There’s only one traffic signal in town – and the entire county, for that matter. All Floyd directions seem to begin with those four words.
“At the stoplight, turn right toward Christiansburg,” I continue.
“As you start to head out of town, it’s a new, large wood-frame building on the right.”
OK, here’s where I think I’ve improved at giving small-town directions.
“If you get to the Family Dollar store, you’ve gone too far. Turn around.”
(In Floyd, you either immediately find the place, or you’re on your way out of the county before the song on your CD player changes.)
They nod, smile and pull back on to Main Street. They’re always appreciative. And I always assume they find where they’re going.
