You know what really frosts my flakes?
How underused America’s public lands are today.
Every year, taxpayers spend billions of dollars maintaining national parks, national forests and other public lands so people can hike, camp, fish, picnic or simply escape the noise and stress of everyday life.
States, counties and cities spend billions more maintaining their own parks and recreation areas.
Yet, where is everybody?
I’ve traveled through all 48 lower states and Alaska, and one thing that continually amazes me is how empty so many of our public lands are.
Granted, visit places like the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone or Glacier national parks in the middle of summer and you’ll probably find yourself bumper-to-bumper with thousands of other people trying to get away from it all at exactly the same time.
Some of the more popular state parks aren’t much better.
But get away from those tourist magnets and you’ll discover thousands of public recreation areas that are practically deserted.
Many are completely free to use. Others charge just a few dollars.
This week, I’m spending some time in Arizona’s Tonto National Forest. We’re just days away from Labor Day, and I can’t believe how empty the place is.
I’ve driven for miles along Forest Service roads past dozens and dozens of clearly marked campsites and recreation areas. Yet, I’ve seen only a handful of people using them.
Yes, many Forest Service roads are dirt or gravel. But I’ve traveled plenty of paved roads, too, and if I were collecting a dollar from every car that passed me, I’d go broke.
Meanwhile, people willingly pay $50, $75 or even $100 a night to stay in private RV parks and campgrounds where their neighbor is practically close enough to reach through the window and steal a marshmallow.
Why? Is it because we can’t survive a weekend without electricity?
Do we really need air conditioning, televisions, Wi-Fi and enough electrical outlets to charge 14 devices before we can experience nature?
The pace of life today is frantic, and the stress is palpable. We’re surrounded by traffic, televisions, phones, notifications, deadlines and people demanding our attention.
Yet, some of the best places to escape all that noise are sitting virtually empty, even though we’re already paying to maintain them.
I’m Grandpa Grumpy. Do yourself a favor before we’re cooped up for another winter.
Get off the interstate. Drive down one of those Forest Service roads. Find a quiet campsite, picnic area, lake or trail and spend a few hours doing absolutely nothing.
Leave the television off. Put the phone down. Listen to the wind blowing through the trees or water tumbling over rocks.
You might be surprised how quickly the stress starts melting away.
And the best part? You’ve already paid for it.