The 200-mile drive home was cold and silent. The temperature peaked at 30 degrees that particular day. The vapor emitting from each breath I took agreed with the thermostat.
My hands took shifts, alternating from one hand holding the wheel, to the other thawing under my leg.
The radio was my only source of entertainment or companionship, and it was all I could do not to turn it on.
It looked as though my experiment to spend a weekend home without technology would be more challenging than expected.
The map by my side was there merely for looks. I’m usually dependent upon my Global Positioning System, so this map was worse than trigonometry for me. God had blessed me with the directional skills of Marco Polo, though the likelihood of a new land being mistakenly discovered on this journey was slim.
After too many wrong turns and an extra hour added to my trip, my destination was finally reached. As soon as my car was parked, my keys were set aside. I was to be without my main means of transportation for the next two days.
Things started out routinely. My family greeted me with hugs and kisses all around. My older brother made a smart-aleck remark about my outfit and my mother held me with all her might. One would think I would slip away forever if she dared let go.
After the “new” had worn off, the desire to see my friends began to set in. Without technology of any sort, getting in touch with them would prove difficult.
My mother suggested riding my bike across town to the local restaurant to see if my friend Jennifer was working. She was just ready to get me out of the house so she could get back to technology … and her television show.
While peddling, the realization quickly set in that my cold cocoon of a car was much more luxurious than this wobbly, freezing bike ride.
Jen was no less than shocked to see me shiver into the restaurant. We did our little bit of catching up, then I was on my way. I felt like an idiot riding my bike in this weather. Passing cars honked and revved up their engines. My head stayed as low as possible in an attempt to hide my identity.
The next day was spent under candlelight and blankets. The temperature had dropped a few more degrees and my bike sat outside, looking not the least bit tantalizing. There was nothing to do except homework and play Monopoly.
My mother kept her eyes on her watch, and as soon as the second hand struck midnight, she hit the thermostat, lights and television. I turned on my phone and was immediately bombarded with 23 text messages and four voice mails.
Catching up with the world was not an easy task. It was unreal how much one could miss out on during the course of two days.
My weekend-long personal experiment made me further appreciate how developed our world has become.
Going very long without what technology we have is excruciatingly possible, but not recommended.