I have a travel rule. It’s not particularly efficient. It won’t save you money on gas. And your GPS may strongly object. But I’ve found it leads to considerably better stories.

When two roads will get me where I’m going, I try to take the interesting one.

You know the road. The highway continues straight ahead. The GPS says you’ll arrive in 47 minutes. But off to the right is another road. It twists through the hills. There’s an old sign pointing toward a town you’ve never heard of. Maybe there’s a historical marker. Maybe you can see the steeple of an old church in the distance. Maybe there’s absolutely no rational reason to turn. But something about that road makes you curious.

Take it. At least once in a while.

The Problem With Getting There

Modern travel is incredibly efficient. We can ask our phones for the fastest route between almost any two places. We know exactly how many miles we have left. We know where we’ll get gas. We know where we’ll eat. We even know approximately what time we’ll arrive. That’s useful.

But sometimes I wonder if we’ve become so good at getting somewhere that we’ve forgotten how much fun there is in going somewhere.

There’s a difference. One is transportation. The other is travel. Some of my favorite discoveries have happened between the places I intended to visit. Small towns with wonderful main streets. Old cemeteries filled with stories. Roadside attractions that probably shouldn’t exist but thankfully do. Tiny restaurants where the menu hasn’t changed in forty years. Overlooks that don’t appear in any guidebook. Historical markers that send me down research rabbit holes for hours. None of them were the destination. That’s what made them special.

The Power of “I Wonder…”

I’ve come to believe those may be two of the most important words an adventurer can learn:

I wonder…

I wonder what’s down that road. I wonder what that building used to be. I wonder why this town has that name. I wonder where that trail goes. I wonder who is buried in that old cemetery. I wonder why there’s a giant fiberglass chicken standing beside the highway. Actually, you should always investigate the giant fiberglass chicken. Some things are simply mandatory. Curiosity turns travel into exploration.

And you don’t need to travel very far to practice it.

Leave Space in the Itinerary

I’ve learned another lesson the hard way. Don’t plan every minute. I know. That’s difficult. There’s always another museum. Another restaurant. Another landmark. Another thing you’re supposed to see. But when every hour has a destination, there’s no room for discovery. Some of the best moments happen because you had twenty minutes to wander. You sat somewhere longer than expected. You talked to someone. You followed a sign. You changed the plan.

That’s when a trip starts becoming your trip rather than an itinerary someone else created.

The Long Way Isn’t Always the Wrong Way

This idea applies to more than travel. We’re constantly encouraged to find shortcuts. Faster careers. Faster success. Faster answers. Faster everything. But some things are worth wandering toward. Learning. Friendships. Creativity. Understanding yourself. Building something meaningful.

Maybe the goal isn’t always getting there faster. Maybe sometimes the goal is noticing what happens along the way. So this week, give yourself permission to take the interesting road.

Stop at the overlook. Walk into the weird shop. Read the historical marker. Try the local food. Talk to somebody. Follow your curiosity. You can always get back on the highway.

And if you get a little lost? Good. You might finally be getting somewhere interesting.