Lost and found

As I was leaving for SLC to meet some of my family to go to Nightmare on 13th, I was somewhat nervous about driving. Yes, yes I was.
Because anything to do with the car is basically my only fear. I have random paranoia's, but freeways and driving and vehicles... yes, it's a fear.

Anyways, I headed off to Salt Lake and got into town safely. I tried calling my dad (we were meeting at Chuck-a-Rama), but he wasn't answering his phone. I looked up to see my dad's minivan kiddie corner to my right and my dad waving at me. Perfect timing! For real, that's pretty awesome in and of itself.
It was dad, Elizabeth, Mark, and Mary.
We ate, had a jolly good time, and left to go to Nightmare on 13th. After we went through the haunted house (which was quite excellent, I must admit. Superb props and scares.), we went to an Arctic Circle and got ice cream, and sat in the most awkward-shaped table ever.

Anywho... I said my goodbyes and headed back to USU. I was worried about getting back on the freeway in the right direction and safely, which is actually the worst part about my driving fear. Freeway entrances.
I followed the signs and got back on safe and sound, and proceeded to drive up north. A while later, I saw a sign that said something about a junction, something about splitting the freeway into west and north. I thought, "Hey, I need to go north. But I don't ever remember anyone else taking a turn-off when they drove me back. I'll just stay on the road."

I passed the junction, and about 99% of the cars behind me took the north turnoff, and I stayed on. That should've been a flashing light in my brain....

My feeling of being lost started to kick in when I noticed that there weren't any other lights around me. Including cars. Nothing. I flipped on my brights and noticed that I was surrounded by hills of dirt.

EXIT 39.
EXIT 20.
EXIT 16.

That's when I got uneasy and decided to call my dad. I tried to explain to both him and my mom that I just kept going, and that I didn't turn off where I wasn't supposed to. My dad couldn't figure out where I was, so he had my Uncle Scott call me.
As my cell phone signal cut in and out, I told my uncle that the nearest city sign said "Snowville." Where the heck...?

He explained (with a bit of difficulty, thanks to America's most reliable network...) that I needed to head back east and meet him in Tremonton.
Good, a city name I somewhat recognize.
I blasted down the freeway at 85+ (I don't really know, my speedometer stops at 85 mph) and met my uncle in Tremonton. He's a Highway Patrol, so he knows the area quite well. He pulled out a map of Utah and proceeded to show me where I was, where I had been, and where I needed to go. I was definitely going the wrong direction- I was about 15 miles away from Idaho. Idaho?!

Turns out, I missed my exit completely, and even taking the North junction would've still gotten me lost. My uncle then showed me the easiest and fastest way to get back to Logan, and afterwards he showed me all the cool gadgets in his lovely cop car. Some pretty nifty stuff, I'd say.
I thanked my uncle and headed off. I found my way back to Logan pretty easily, and was able to see the faint blue of Old Main lit up from the valley boundaries. I looked for the temple and found it glowing in the distance.
As I got into town, I kept looking for the temple, because if I could see the temple, I could find my way back to my house. Not being able to see it, I kept driving, assuming I was going in the right direction. The temple lights burst through a gap in the trees and caught my eye. I was so overwhelmed with emotion; I had never been happier to see the temple. I was so happy to see the temple and so happy to finally make it home. I was so grateful that I got back safely, even if it meant pushing my sanity and fear a little further than usual.

Snowville (red) - Where I was.
Logan (blue) - Where I was supposed to be.
It sucks getting lost.