Dead Ends

I am running, no, I am full-on sprinting through this town. Roads and roads in front of me curve every which way, and each turn promises virgin sceneries, but no—wait, it can’t be. This turn doesn’t go through. Dash to the next one. Neither does this turn! Just dead-ends for miles on end? No, keep going, this next one on the left has gotta be through. Oh despair, panic. It’s just another cul-de-sac where I must screech my heels to a halt. It’s getting dark, I’m getting tired, and my joints hurt from the pounding. Where—when can I get through?