A funny thing happened to my wife and I on the way to the airport a couple of weeks ago, and it’s worth sharing in light of the political debate over the type and degree of government regulation that should be applied to ride-hailing or “transportation network companies” like Uber and Lyft currently raging at both the Legislature and City Council.

Instead of calling a taxi from one of the big companies, as we did on our last trip, we decided to try one of the ride-hailing companies and, based on our previous positive experiences while traveling, we decided on Lyft.

I opened the Lyft app on my iPhone, entered our home address and destination, and a map showed the location of nearby drivers, most in holding patterns in and around Waikiki. Within seconds, the app indicated that a driver, who I’ll call ”Kent,” was on the way to pick us up.

We were able to track Kent’s progress winding his way toward our house, while the app displayed a constantly updated arrival time. Within minutes, the app showed that his car was coming down our block and, as promised, he pulled up in front of our house.

We didn’t have to wonder whether our taxi would actually show up. Instead, we were tethered directly to our driver in real time by the miracle of digital technology. We were partners in the process via the app, definitely part of the appeal of the digital platforms these services are grounded in.

Kent turned out to be a pleasant 20-something University of Hawaii student living in Manoa, who had  just recently signed up as a Lyft driver. His car was new and clean, his manner pleasant and helpful. He loaded our suitcases into the trunk, and we were off to the airport guided by his dashboard-mounted GPS on which we could see ourselves represented as a small car traveling on the digital highway.

We exchanged pleasantries, learned a bit of his background, then settled in for what promised to be a quick drive. Traffic was light, we were making excellent time, and everything seemed to be going smoothly until I looked out the window and was startled by what I saw.

I said quietly to my wife, “We just passed the airport exit!” Then, as that sank in, we repeated it louder and in unison. “Kent, you just missed the airport!”

Our driver, who seemed as surprised as we were by this turn of events, had been relying on the GPS, which was apparently giving very bad information. He seemed unsure what to do next, but proceeded on toward the next exit where, we assumed, we would turn around and track back the short distance to the airport.

But after exiting the freeway, we were immediately drawn into the flow of traffic being channeled right into the entrance to Hickam Air Force Base, where a line of guards was checking the identification of drivers entering the base.

“Maybe you can just ask to turn around,” we suggested, but he waved us off.

“Don’t worry,” Kent said. “My military ID is still good.”

And sure enough, he dug an identification card out of his bag, displayed it to the guard who had stepped over to the car, and we were waved onto the base.

This was not, we soon realized, a good thing. Kent pulled off onto a quiet side street in a residential area of the base as he tried to regain his bearings. Clearly, Kent was rattled. It didn’t take long for us to realize he was totally lost.

Instead of simply exiting the main gate and then following Nimitz Highway to the airport entrance, Kent decided to double down on the errant GPS, which was suggesting a different way out.

I said quietly to my wife, “We just passed the airport exit!”

That’s when things went from bad to worse. We spent most of the next half hour lost on the base, driving away from the lights of the main gate, past housing areas, past administrative buildings where not a light was shining, down progressively narrower and darker roads where we no longer saw any other cars, then along the ocean where at least one small sign said “Fort Kamehameha,” and winding back inland, on our way to who knows where.

Kent was obviously very embarrassed, as you can imagine, but tried to keep up a facade of confidence while apparently hoping the GPS finally had us on track back to the airport.

That hope hit a dead end at a closed, secured gate next to a small guard station, and a guard who was not amused.

“We’re just trying to get to the airport,” Kent blurted out, displaying the map on his phone.

“Dead end,” the guard said. “This road goes to the control tower.”

Under his watchful and probably increasingly suspicious eyes, Kent sat staring blankly at his GPS, mortified by the circumstances.

At this point, I had my iPhone out, a maps app open, and we started directing our driver back to the main gate of the base, and on to the airport.

Luckily, we had planned on getting to the airport quite early, so had plenty of cushion to cover the time spent driving while lost. But it was a relief to finally get out of Kent’s car, retrieve our bags, and head for the check-in.

It’s possible Kent recovered from the experience, but I have a feeling that we were witnesses to the flaming end of one man’s very brief career as a Lyft driver.

Are there any implications here for the broader issues pitting local taxi companies and drivers against the upstart corporate behemoths of Uber and Lyft?

It’s hard to draw conclusions from this kind of anecdotal evidence, but our experience does suggest several things.

First, not everyone who has a driver’s license is ready to be a driver for hire.

Honolulu requires taxi drivers to pass a written test demonstrating that they have a “sufficient understanding” of local traffic laws, and know the locations of major streets, roads, highways and significant landmarks.

Although I haven’t seen any data to indicate whether part-time ride-hailing drivers are more likely to get lost than licensed taxi drivers, it seems appropriate for Lyft and Uber drivers to meet the same requirements.

Ride-hailing companies should also have to meet other standards before certifying their drivers, including criminal background checks, health checks, vehicle inspections and comprehensive insurance coverage for drivers, passengers and third parties.

Second, technology isn’t always reliable, as our Lyft driver’s over-dependence on GPS demonstrated, and some backup is required. On another recent cab ride, the driver complained about his company-provided GPS, and even laughingly showed us how inaccurate it was in tracking our position.

But I’m guessing his traditional taxi company would have been able to offer more quick help to a driver who got lost in this kind of circumstance, either from the dispatcher or from other drivers.

And to the extent that ride-hailing companies base fares on GPS readings rather than taxi meter readings, some degree of regulation is needed to assure the systems provide accurate measurements, although I’m not clear on how that would be done.

Third, Uber and Lyft offer a lower cost transportation alternative, the highway equivalent of the cut-rate airlines that rely on lower-paid employees and no-frills service to keep prices down. It’s an option that shouldn’t be eliminated by government regulations, as long as basic safety standards are maintained across the board.

In the end, whether to go with a traditional taxi company or a ride-hailing service should be a personal choice. That said, after this experience, I think we’ll be more likely to call a cab next time we are going to the airport, paying a bit more for the luxury of arriving at the airport on the first pass.