Growing up, I spent the majority of my life being raised by my dad. From a very young age, he exposed my sister and me to the world of motorsports. He would tell us stories from when he would travel across the country attending different races, tradeshows and exploring trails on his own with nothing but his Jeep and a cooler. Eventually, this culture became heavily embedded in my life and served as an influence in shaping the way I look at life.
When most people think of four-wheeling, the envision "hicks" riding around in jeeps on muddy trails in the woods. Where I come from, this seemed to be the common stereotype and it was often very hard to convince people otherwise. I remember always remember tellings stories from our vacations four-wheeling, and I'd receive the same flabbergasted look every time.
For my family, four-wheeling became a lifestyle. We were members of the Scrambler's Owners Association - a four-wheeling club that invited Jeep owners from all over the country to run trails together. Once a year, the club hosted "The Nationals", an event where all the members unite to run trails in 3 division: scenic, moderate, extreme. Our beautiful blue scrambler was something of a monster truck and belonged to the extreme group.
Every jeeping trip had a similar agenda, only the state we were in would differ. We would camp out of our goose-neck trailer at the entrance to the trails, and the forest became home for a week. Wake up early, pack the cooler, pack extra supplies and tools and lock the trailer and head out.
Waking up early and driving down winding roads in places like Colorado, South Dakota, and Utah brought the refreshment of the cold morning air. Places like Oklahoma, Missouri, Kentucky invited the sticky humid air to stick to our bodies which cooled us off under the hot sun. We often drove without a windshield or doors, and that formed us as one with our surroundings. The wind, the sky, and forest and the water were all invited to enter our vessel, and they often did.
Days on the trails are always long. A rock obstacle may cause someone to break an axle or the front suspension, and we become stuck as a result. Everyone in the crew immediately stops what they are doing to help fix the break and our progression through the trails becomes delayed. Although inconvenient, these frequent breaks are relaxing.
The canopy of trees hides us from the beating sun and beautiful mountain streams wind through the trees offering sounds of pure serenity. The higher we climbed through the trees, the more landscape we were given the opportunity to see. Ghost towns in Colorado litter the mountains and serve as standing proof of our mining past. The rolling deserts of Utah stretch for as far as the eye can see and expose the beautiful oranges, reds, and browns that nature has colored the land with. The greenery in southern states like Mississippi and Alabama symbolize the livelihood of the forest and the nature around us.
My dad often told me that we were lucky to explore these trails. We climbed to heights and places unseen by 99% of the population. Our trusty blue Scrambler never failed us on the winding switch roads of the mountains or the gravel littered roads of the south and midwest. We were given the chance to explore abandoned mining towns, stand on the continental divide, and play in the high climbing natural waterfalls.
Spending a week or so out in places where phone service and human interaction became the most liberating thing for growing up. Without the distractions of the outside world, we were forced to become one with nature, and band together with our family-like friends. Becoming so close to a group with similar interests taught me the importance of sticking together to fix things when situations on the trails get scary.
We became family with people from all over the country and essentially fell off the grid altogether for a week. Exploring sights unseen and riding through the nation's toughest obstacles as a group enforced the idea that no one gets left behind on the trails. The things we did were something you couldn't find at your local amusement park.
Four-wheeling is culturally accepted to be thought of as a "pseudo-sport" for rednecks, yet, it is nothing like that at all. Its the exhilarating thrill of speed, beauty, adrenaline, and familial bonding. Even today, I still struggle to explain to people what it is, but it seems as though there is no way to change anyone's mind on it.
I am more than thankful to have traveled to rockiest mountains and pits of mud deep in the south. Steadily creeping up and down these bizarre-looking rock trails has shown me more about the beauty of nature and bonding than anything else ever could.
Jeeping will forever be one of those things that most people can't understand. But, maybe that's what makes it so cool. If you know you know. For now, the beauty and the sights that we have seen are simply too beautiful to comprehend, and pictures and videos don't do them any justice. It's just one of those things you have to see to believe.