The local Chamber of Commerce at first quiescent at the novelty of a hinterland officially labeled as ‘wild,’ tastes its first blood of tourist-money. It then wants more, wilderness or no wilderness.” (SCA pg 172)
Going for a Sunday afternoon drive was one of the most relaxing activities I partook in as a child. The music, quietly played, often complemented the scenery resulting in a most enjoyable day dream that did eventually end in actual sleep. Now when I find my self placidly sitting in a car I often wonder what I would have seen and experienced had I actually walked to my destination. I for one don’t think that it is possible to experience nature, or even life for that matter, in a car. There is nothing spiritually fulfilling about sitting behind the glare of a windshield while the roar of a V8 is muffled by speakers blasting a top twenties radio station.
Aldo Leopold’s vivid descriptions of nature are up front, lively and vivid. Though it may be impossible to find nature in the driver’s seat Aldo’s disdain for roads goes a little farther. “On the other hand, motorized transport has nearly destroyed the sport of wilderness travel by leaving only fly-specks of wilderness to travel in.” (SCA Pg 182)
When the natural world is subdivided by roads for tourist convenience it is not difficult to see that the landscape is slowly degrading. Litter from negligent motorists piles up in the ditch, slow and unwary animals remain splattered on the road side and all in an attempt to give tourists easy access to vacation spots.
If land is to be reserved for viewing pleasures it makes little sense to put a road through it, roads being one of mans ugliest invention. People go to the wild to escape the cities drab hustle and bustle that comes from living next to the grey tones of major traffic and road ways. When I go for a hike in the woods, the road is the very thing that I am trying to escape.