Got there, barely

The ladyfriend having volunteered to drive, bless her, we headed down to Winchester, Virginia to attend the Fall National of the N-SSA. (It's a fetish; you either get it or you don't.)
En route, there was a huge truck accident on I-95, so we had to get off and find another route south.
The ladyfriend only likes Google Maps directions, and doesn't print out the map part. That's fine, as long as you don't have to deviate from the given path. When you do, they're useless.
I'd bought her a TomTom GPS system, which tells you where to go, if it knows.
In a real fuque de clusteur, we got off the freeway. The 'car bitch' from the GPS system, of course, was clueless (the ladyfriend hates her now, thus the new name), we had maps but they were in the trunk, and so we wandered about quite a bit until we got it sorted out and got on the correct road.
We got here, later than we would have liked, but we got here. (It's all my fault, anyway.)
We had a nice dinner in the hotel, slept on a nice big bed, and we're up and headed for the Fort now, shooting this afternoon in the second string.