By Peter Kadel
Last month, I went to the Schoepe Scout Reservation at Lost Valley to work as a volunteer for one of the off-season events. The entire weekend was packed with activities and shenanigans that made my time up there enjoyable. The event itself was not the only fun part; the journey there was also a part of the adventure. This is not because I don’t like the camp, but because to reach the camp I drive up a series of windy mountain roads that culminate in a ten-mile dirt road–a dirt road that is legend among the Boy Scouts of Southern California and parts of Arizona.
“The Road,” as we call it, is a bumpy, windy, washed-out, pot-hole-covered, ten-mile gauntlet that acts as the only public land entrance to the camp. The only other entrances to the camp are by helicopter or through an Indian Reservation. The road has quite the reputation with those who frequently drive to the camp. While the faint of heart may dread the long drive to Lost Valley, I cherish it. I would rather drive down a ten-mile dirt road through a stunning wilderness landscape that makes me feel at peace than drive for one mile on I-10 or any busy freeway in America.
Windy roads are more fun to drive once you have the hang of driving them. The rougher terrain and the sharper turns on windy dirt roads are much more engaging than straight busy highways. You can’t use cruise control or go on mental autopilot. The looser terrain also allows for sliding or drifting, which can be really fun as long as you are careful. The thrill of a fast turn of a dirt road is quite the adrenaline rush when you do it right. And, aside from the obvious fun, a windy dirt road signifies a separation from hustle-and-bustle cities and the trappings of society that in the end don’t really matter.
On my drive home, I actually had to stop driving for a good five minutes so I could just take in the beautiful vista before me, breathe in the clear air, exist for a minute in this paradise with a sky so blue that it took my breath away. The spiritual benefits cannot be replicated on busy highways. If that doesn’t convince you of the benefits of off-road driving, then consider this: when I’m on a major highway, I see people exchanging insults and honking at each other. In the backwoods, I barely see a soul. And, when I do, they’re kind-hearted people with a respect for nature and for those around them. The experiences found off the beaten track and in the heart of nature are something that everybody needs and most don’t get enough of. So go; find them.
Editor: Shelby Armor