It is pre-dawn. The coffee maker is gurgling and I am preparing to drive John to his first day of work. Nerves aflutter, we step out our door and get ready to greet this new world.

At the gate, I nervously hand my I.D. to the MP who smiles, salutes John and wishes us a good morning. “Well that wasn’t so bad,” I think, as we drive past a large welcome sign.

The roads, named for various battles and brigades, are busy with cars in the pre-dawn light. Everyone is trying to get to their unit buildings, the same as us, because PT is about to start. In this, the most deployed of all the divisions, you live and breathe PT. Physical fitness is key.

I say goodbye to John and watch him as he walks across the road to his building. “Now what?” I think. Maybe I’ll sit for a bit and just absorb this new world. I look out onto the parade area beyond John’s building and see a mass of black dots moving in the dark. It’s soldiers coming from the barracks, getting ready to join their units.

Now what was it John told me? Oh yes, at 6:28, I salute the flag when I hear the reveille. Then I need to get off the post because PT will start and most of the roads will be blocked off for soldiers.

“I still have plenty of time before that”, I think, as I head in search of the on-post Starbucks. A little coffee, watch the sunrise, what could be better?

After a pleasant chat with the baristas, I hop in the car and enjoy the beauty of the sun rising over the fields, forests, and HMMWVs. I look at the car clock. Uh-oh, it’s getting close to 6:30. Better get out of here while the roads are still open.

But how do I get out of here? Let’s see, Google Maps, yes….okay that looks like a good exit. Start navigation.

Navigation: “Turn right ahead.”

Giant Road Sign: “Road blocked. For PT only.”

Navigation: “Why aren’t you turning right?”

Me: “Because the road is blocked. Find me another way.”

Navigation: “There is no other way. You’re on your own. Goodbye and good luck.”

I pull into a parking lot in front of some road guards to regroup. There has got to be a way out of here! How do I find it? Okay, let’s follow those cars. They look like they know what they’re doing.

Well, now I’m in a dead-end neighborhood.

Let’s follow that bus! It probably leads….to the school and another dead-end.

Let’s follow that line of cars. They definitely know where they’re going. Well, yes they do. They are going to their units at the end of a dead-end street.

I park my car in the middle of a parking lot where groups of soldiers are stretching, chatting, and getting in their last smokes before PT. It’s time to suck up my pride and just ask someone how to get off this post.

I put on my most enduring smile and walk up to a man who looks like he might be in charge. He’s got a mustache anyway, and I know you’ve got to be high-ranking to have one of those. The mustache man gives me an exasperated look as I start to ask for help. Maybe he thinks I’m looking for an autograph or something. Then, as I explain that it’s my first time on-post and I have no idea how to get off it—with a few more enduring smiles thrown in for good measure—he sighs and says, “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do. You know the four-way stop where you came in? Okay, you’re going to go back there and turn left. Then you’re going to go right, then left, then pass over a railway bridge, then round a bend to a river, then pass a golf course, then…”

My mind starts to wander. This is way too much to take it. Left, right, railroad, golf course. Okay, Kalene, just listen for key words. I’m being taken in by the mustache. I can’t stop staring at it. He looks like General Custer. Wait, the mustache has stopped moving. He’s staring at me.

“You got that, ma’am?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” I say and get back into my car.

Okay, first step is to turn left past the road guards—the same road guards I have already passed about 15 times in my attempts to get out of here. They nod at me. One chuckles and hands the other one a fiver.

But there it is again! The giant road sign: Road Closed for PT Only. Wait…road closed…for PT only. That’s not two sentences, it’s one. The road is closed for people doing PT, meaning it’s cars only!

I drive past the road sign, past soldiers stretching, doing push-ups and crunches on gravel, past the golf course and to freedom.

It was a fun adventure, but I think John will be driving himself to work from now on.