Desert of Freedom

Taylor - USA
Entered on December 16, 2008

The sun rises over the brown hills early. I roll over on the large bunk in the motor-home’s loft, and my brother is still sleeping. Mr. Lieshman is already up cooking his famous egg, bacon, and tater-tot dish. I open the camper door and sit down with Matt who is starting a morning blaze with gasoline. Out there when ever it is cold, someone starts a campfire. We stand by the blaze and enjoy its comfort as friends start drifting out of the other three motor-homes to have breakfast. It is winter in the Anso Borrego Mountains of San Diego. Mr. Burns pulls up in his raised Tundra towing quads, his family stayed in the hotel about ten miles from our camp. Out there we make our camp where ever we want. Mr. Lieshman has been coming to this desert for 30 years and has certain spots he likes to return to. After we eat our fill we begin to dress for the day. Camelbacks are filled, granola bars packed and we don our armor, the Department of Transportation certified helmets, chest and shoulder protectors, gloves, knee and shin pads, and padded pants. Last we put on the exceedingly strong steel and carbon fiber boots. Nineteen gladiators stand poised around there machinery ready for the battles of the day. They are a bloodthirsty group, hungry for the kill, eager to climb near vertical slopes, slay the dunes, and complete their high speed massacre of the wide open trails that seem to go forever. I am asked to lead a prayer as we begin to line up the dirt bikes for our adventure on this day. I pray for safety and thank God for his blessings. The audio and visual stimuli that precede our departure are breathtaking. The gladiators mount and one by one slowly rise up and then explode down as they kick-start their steeds. The rising sun creates long shadows on the bronze ground mimicking them. We give sharp quick twists on the throttle to warm the bikes up, the revving of all the separate exhaust notes from many different displacements fuse to form a melodious symphony of a song so unique words will never be sufficient to describe it.

I believe in small government. What, you may say? How is he going to relate what he just said to small government? Through an analogy. The lack of regulation in the Anso Borregos allows certain thing to flourish. The authority out there are a few considerate search and rescue sheriff units who enforce the law if someone penetrates another’s freedom. If someone becomes lost they find them and guide them back to there family. That is all. Everything else is left to the people. If you are stupid you get hurt, and you learn from your mistakes. The joy we garner by exploring and riding all over the desert, is like the profits entrepreneurs can obtain when the government takes away its walls of taxes, politically correct regulations, false environmental precautions and ridiculous acceptance of special interest funding. The Sheriff does not stop us when we uncover new land, and our entire group benefits. The government must not block the aspirations of developing young companies, as their success ensures a greater number of citizens needs taken care of.