Growing up in a small town I can relate to the various names given to locations, turns, or even roads in general that are given by those who live in the area.
Back where I spent most of my time growing up there was a road we called Millionaires Drive, and as you can probably guess it was the road with all of the large, fancy houses with perfectly manicured lawns. That road connected to what we called Morris Hill. We also had an intersection we favoured in calling Four Church Corners, which we dubbed very literally as there was a church on all four corners.
We also had Nichol’s gully, a road where if you asked a tourist what it was, they would say a ditch we enjoy throwing our leftover change.
That is not true.
That gully was officially named with a sign at some point or another, but it still holds the same idea as the rest of the random places that were dubbed with dubious names.
So upon moving here I heard of the two-mile corner, four-mile corner, and even Manola road. At first I had no idea where they were, but after some guidance I learned all of these mysterious places were actually locations I had already been.
I remember several years back when I was an intern I was sent to a nearby town approximately 45 minutes away from where I lived.
My dad drew me a map, which consisted of a line, a bushel of trees, and a stop sign.
I asked him about the vague drawing and he simply said, “you’ll know it.” At the young age of 19 I had no idea what he was going on about.
So of course I got completely lost.
Turns out if you don’t turn at the trees, you end up in the land of the farms, where not even a satellite can find you.
So when I moved here I was kind of in the same position as that day. I did not know where I was going, and after hearing something as simple as two-mile corner, my muscles tightened, my heart pounded, and I was already imagining myself in my car crying from being lost in the middle of farmland.
But take it from me, when you say turn left at the old oak tree that burnt down after being struck by lighting, go across the train tracks, turn right at old Joe’s farm, and then make a left at the lake that Mary lost her favourite gold ring, I will guarantee you, I am doomed and will never be found.
So do not be surprised if I pull up beside you at a red light and ask “where’s the old oak tree” because I may be getting the hang of things, but I still have a lot to learn.
