Stuck on a deserted island

This NYE, Chris and I played course marshalls for the 39th annual Belle Isle New Year's Eve Run. With beers in our pockets and our hats pulled low, we nearly froze to death in the biting wind and dropping temps at the mile and a half mark. Considering all of the races I do, paying it back was the least I could do. Just as the last runner passed, a car did too, with the window down. The woman driving was in a panic. "I'm lost and I'm trying to get to Ohio!" she exclaimed. "I'm following my compass south but the roads around here just keep changing directions!" For a moment I thought she was messing with us. Chris and I tried not to snicker and put on our Mr. and Mrs. Serious masks. "Well," I began, trying not to lose it, "you're on an island right now---could explain the curvy roads."