The key to traveling is learning to roll with whatever happens. Small hangups, disasters and unexpected side trips (as I like to call them, as opposed to admitting I’m lost) will plague any trip, whether you’re ready for them or not. For instance, on Sunday I was not expecting to lock my keys in my car in a lonely gas station parking lot in Blacksburg, S.C.

For someone who has frequent problems with cars, you’d think I’d know more about them, or at least keep a spare key on me. But I don’t. So I found myself at a loss for what to do, stuck in Blacksburg, which is a little blip of a town, trying to get to Greenville before noon.

I’m going to spoil the ending of this story for you: I did not make it to Greenville before noon.

So, for someone who is car-illiterate, there are a few steps I’ve learned to take when something goes wrong.

Step one: panic. This step involves checking, double checking and triple checking all of the doors on my car as well as seeing if I can force the trunk open — not that this would help at all with my current car. This step ends with me sitting on the hood of my car, telling myself that I really need to take an automotive class.

Step two: ask for help. Unfortunately, neither the cashier, the gas station’s maintenance man or the local police department were able to help me. Insurance issues.

Step three: call someone. I didn’t get an answer with any of my family — by far the cheapest option. I called the number for a locksmith the cashier gave me, but was informed they were going out of business and couldn’t help me. I googled local locksmiths. But, as I’ve said, Blacksburg is a little blip of a town. It didn’t have any other locksmiths. Locksmiths in nearby towns did not cover Blacksburg. By this point, I started to wonder what on earth the people of Blacksburg do when they lock themselves out. But they’re probably smarter than me. They probably have spare keys.

A towing company was too expensive an option unless I was truly desperate, so I decided to proceed to step four, instead.

Step four: do it yourself. By this point it started to rain, and I’d been trapped in the pothole-riddled parking lot for over an hour. But luckily for me, the gas station sold lockout kits, which I purchased. I had no more than a vague idea of how to use any of the oddly shaped metal rods and sheets. As I stood, in the rain — my umbrella was locked in the car — puzzling over unhelpful diagrams, I had my first stroke of luck.

I like to say that the good thing about the Carolinas is, if you stand next to a car holding some sort of tool — be it jumper cables, a jack, a tire iron or a lockout kit — and look slightly confused, someone will ask if you need help. In my case, it was a middle aged man traveling home from the holidays with his wife and two small children. He spent a good 20 minutes working on breaking into my car. He eventually succeeded. Which brings me to step five.

Step five: live with the consequences of your actions. I was late getting to Greenville. Helpful though he was, the man who eventually got me into my car was out of practice, and the outside driver’s-side door handle on my car no longer works. Which . . . brings me back to the beginning: roll with it.

This is not the first time I’ve had a travel hang-up, and it will not be the last. And this is true for everyone. At some point, you will have to push start a truck, or your water will cut off and you’ll have to find it somewhere else, or you’ll be stuck in an airport — or a bus station — and have to find a corner to curl up in for the night, or you will decide to keep driving only to learn that the next stop is five hours away and you’ve driven too far to turn around, or you’ll be caught in severe weather on a deserted highway, or your battery will die, or you’ll blow a tire driving through the mountains or you’ll lock yourself out of your car in Blacksburg, S.C.

These things happen, and they are inevitable to those of us who decide to poke our heads out our front doors. You roll with it, and learn to look on the bright side: until I can get the door fixed I may look silly climbing into my car through the passenger side, but I’ve had worse cars, and at least this one has air-conditioning.

Contact education reporter Rebecca Rider at rebecca.rider@salisburypost.com or 704-797-4264.