The most extraordinary thing happened the other day. A friend invited me to go to a concert. She was going to pick me up, but she had never been to my home before. A few days earlier, she had asked for my address, and I gladly gave it to her.

On the day of the event, she texted me to say what time she would arrive and reminded me to be ready since she lives about 25 to 30 minutes away, give or take. I got ready, went downstairs, and waited for her to arrive.

A few minutes later, she called and asked for directions. She wanted to know if she should turn onto one street, then another, and then another. I was surprised because I just drive there automatically, and everyone else usually uses GPS. I asked if she had GPS, and she told me she couldn’t use it while talking to me. I thought, “Come on now, yes you can.” You can use GPS while on a conversation.

She kept asking whether she should turn right or left at various intersections. I was completely confused. Honestly, I didn’t know the exact turns because driving home is automatic for me. She was lost for so long that I finally decided to walk to the main street, thinking I might spot her there.

Still nothing.

At that point, I wondered: Where in the world could she be?

I decided to keep walking toward the main street, figuring it would be easier to meet her there while we stayed on the phone. The whole time, I was intrigued. Why was she having so much difficulty finding the place when she supposedly had GPS? It literally tells you where to go: turn right, turn left, make a U-turn. Recalculating. Recalculating.

We went back and forth for quite a while as I tried to guide her using landmarks rather than street numbers. Eventually, I spotted her car, and she spotted me. I got in, we greeted each other, and it was then that I realized what had been going on all along.

She wasn’t using GPS. She doesn’t believe in the technology and avoids leaving digital data behind. She doesn’t want the government collecting information about her movements. I found this especially ironic because she was calling me on the very device she was trying not to be tracked through—her cellphone.

I was startled, surprised, and honestly a little amazed that there are still intelligent people out there who refuse to use GPS. Instead, she was navigating the old-fashioned way—with a map and handwritten directions.

When I finally understood what was happening, I was genuinely stunned.

My friend wasn’t fighting with her GPS. She didn’t have one running at all. Instead, she had done something I hadn’t seen in years: she— with her husband’s help—, had mapped the route herself. Before leaving home, she studied the roads, wrote down directions, and set out with nothing more than a piece of paper and her memory.

For a moment, I felt as though I had stepped into a different era.

What surprised me most wasn’t that she got lost. It was that she even knew how to attempt the journey that way. Somewhere between smartphones, navigation apps, and satellite guidance, I had quietly surrendered an entire skill set without noticing.

The truth is, if you asked me to drive across town with nothing but a map, I would probably stare at it the way a medieval scholar might stare at a spaceship manual.

As she described how she planned her route, memorized key turns, and adjusted when things didn’t go as expected, I realized I wasn’t listening to someone who was behind the times. I was listening to someone using a skill I no longer possessed.

It made me wonder what other abilities we have handed over to technology so completely that we’ve forgotten we ever had them.

Need directions? GPS.
Need a phone number? Contacts.
Need to remember an appointment? Calendar alerts.

At some point, convenience became dependence. And that’s when an uncomfortable thought crossed my mind: if civilization lost GPS tomorrow, my friend would probably make it home just fine.

I’m not nearly as confident about myself.