What a sense of accomplishment it used to be, not so long ago. Successfully folding up a multi-panelled road map that had provided accurate directions to a new destination.

Quite often, the map had been used many times before and was ripped along a seam or two. Being trusted as the navigator, usually sitting in the passenger side front seat, was an earned honour, and a road trip, road trip rite of passage. I always love riding shotgun with the map, especially since I have never been the best driver.

Last weekend, four of us drove down to State College in central Pennsylvania. My pal, his 16-year-old son, and his high school buddy. Happy Valley is the home of the Pennsylvania State University, and we had tickets to watch my favourite sport, women’s volleyball.

And on Saturday afternoon, it’s big-time National Collegiate Athletic Association football against Northwestern University.

Totally bizarre, with 107,000 fans. Some 330 students in the marching band. Thirty-three tubas!

A fraternity brother lives there in a big rambling house and was again happy to put us up. It’s a beautiful part of America, and on homecoming weekend, a great opportunity to observe a major college town in all its glory. The unashamed loyalty is almost tribal. I don’t say it’s better. Just different than here in Canada.

As we left St. Davids, I had my road map out and unfolded to show the route. About a five-hour drive, if I didn’t get us lost. As it turned out, I never had to even look at the map. My pal had simply typed our destination address into his GPS, and then trusted it 100 per cent: 204 South Church St., Boalsburg, Pa.

I have driven from Niagara to Boalsburg and back about a dozen times over the years, and have the route pretty much memorized. Down to Ellicottville, past the Zippo Lighter factory and museum in Bradford, through the colourful Allegheny Mountains to St. Mary’s, then to I-80 East for about 50 miles to the Bellefonte exit. About 20 miles south to State College and Boalsburg.

It was a bit frustrating, but not once was my knowledge of the route requested. Not even once. And several times, we drove through little towns that I had never seen. Mutton Hollow, Limestone, Kill Buck and several other new names. GPS somehow had it all figured out.

At Sheetz Corners, we found the Texaco Diner, where I watched in amazement as two teenage boys each inhaled more than a hearty meal. And then, we all had the best-ever apple crisp — with vanilla ice cream.

Still, I was not asked to provide directions. The driver would just glance at the GPS screen, and on we drove. To my amazement, and I don’t pretend to understand it, someone somewhere knows every road everywhere. And also, that fall festival was on in Ellicottville, which would slow us down a bit. GPS took us on a detour around town.

Alas, the GPS meister didn’t seem to know about the border slowdown at the Peace Bridge going into Buffalo. That was only frustration, adding about forty minutes to our road trip, road trip.

Not to be repetitive, but not once was I asked to help with directions. It is very sad in a way, but the learned skill of navigating with printed road maps is irrelevant now. The world changes, and we can only attempt to keep up.

Even in State College on a very busy weekend, our driver didn’t once ask me for directions. It was out of character for me, but I just sat in the back seat with my mouth shut. He would just glance at his GPS screen and implicitly trust the computers.

Weird, but uncannily accurate and effective.

A bit of “driver distraction?” Perhaps, but it seems to be working. Not once did we get lost, and nobody honked at us.

I will ramble to a conclusion with a timely story. A coincidence

This morning, out by Concession 9 near St. Davids, I came upon a couple driving a Winnebago RV along a gravel section of the road, in the midst of vineyards. They waved at me to stop. I commented on how adventurous they were.

With a German accent, the passenger riding shotgun said, “No, we are lost. We are trusting our GPS, and it told us this was a shortcut. Where is Queenston?”

What to do? Who to trust? How to keep up?

Being technologically stubborn, I am going to hold on to a few of my printed paper road maps for a few more years.