During a recent jaunt to my college roommate’s cozy suburban hometown several states and a few hundred miles away, she and I reminisced how road travel’s evolved, become a smoother thing of ease by comparison to a decade before.

The outstretched city highways dividing our towns haven’t necessarily changed for the better or less congested, but the convenience of GPS’ articulated command to guide the way absolutely beats the dangerous alternative means of traveling unfamiliar territory sans co-pilot from days of yore.

Just as risky as today’s unfavorable rise of texting and driving, I used to navigate solo road trips tracing my finger along mammoth-size impossible to-refold maps while concurrently cross-checking them against hand-written directions. It seemed anywhere I wanted to journey, there was a map for that.

GPS systems today make navigating safer.

Gone are the days of paper scraps reading, “Hang a left at that Big Box Furniture Store, bang a right after your fifth light. If you reach the Super Bubbly Awesome Car Wash, you’ve gone too far.”

Relying on these bits of landmark-noted chicken scratch while keeping one’s eyes off the road– talk about going too far.

Who conveys directions in that dialogue anymore, anyway? Surely none of the directions I ever followed read, “After 400 yards, make U-turn when possible”. Now it’s in nearly every car, dictated in gentle, slightly British brogue like a ‘Downton Abbey’ cast extra.

But somewhere along the way, did we exchange our own sense of geography for smoother, safer navigation?

Did our sense of direction falter slightly when we swapped written directions on backs of coupons for TomToms?

Maps are cumbersome, but they never lost a signal. Awkward, but darn accurate. From maps, one can see beyond the confining peripherals of a sole animated digital road and actually have a location visual in relation to the many surrounding cities, states, countries.

It’s a small, small world, but one made of many large, large maps. This morning, I was reminded of worldly wonder when I peered into our master bedroom and glimpsed our gleeful tots perched on our bed, taking turns spinning a globe.

Our older son proudly pointed out places he knew to our youngest, whose eyes were filled with wonder.

“This is where we live in the world,” my eldest quietly explained.

An honest-to-goodness global positioning system right before my eyes.

How often I forget what the acronym ‘GPS’ actually stands for .

Has heavy reliance on technology diminished our own global sense in relationship to other places? Perhaps.

But as long as kiddos keep that natural wonder of geogra- phy, as long as we parents nurture this sense of awe, I’ll take the safer navigation system dictated by Lord Grantham when driving rather than squinting at jotted notes on the highway.

A GPS makes for happy trails.

But continuing to foster a love and understanding of geographical greens and blues and the lines and labels between will make for happy, worldly kids.

— Michelle Cote is the art director of the Journal Tribune. She enjoys cooking, baking, and living room dance-offs with her husband, two boys and a dog. She can be contacted at mcote@journaltribune.com.