Lessons from Mountain Curves, Race Tracks, and the Road of Land Use
By Del Albright
If you’ve ever driven a winding mountain road with purpose, or watched a race car driver shave seconds off a lap at Le Mans, you know the sound I’m talking about. That low, steady brrrrrrp as the tires just barely kiss the rumble strips.
Not drifting out of control.
Not blowing the corner.
Just nibbling at the edge.
It’s a calculated move. A good driver hugs the inside of the curve, straightens the arc, looks through the turn to the next one, and lets the tires barely touch the rumble strip. That sound isn’t a mistake. It’s feedback. It’s precision. It’s commitment without recklessness. That’s life.
And here, I’ll show you that’s also land use.
The Curves We Face
In the mountains, curves come one after another. Some are gentle sweepers. Others tighten up without warning. If you drive only what’s directly in front of your hood, you’ll always be late in your steering and sloppy in your line. The same holds true in public land battles and stewardship.
You don’t fight today’s issue in isolation or with blinders on. There’s always another curve coming:
A new regulation.
A lawsuit.
A species listing.
A wildfire.
A closure proposal.
A funding shortfall.
A shift in agency leadership.
If you’re not looking ahead—two curves down the road—you’re already behind. If you’ve done any rock crawling, you already know that the key is to look ahead beyond the immediate obstacle you’re about to tackle so you have a better line prepared – ahead of time.
Let’s look at some tricks of the trade.
Doing Your Homework Before You Turn the Wheel
Before any road trip through serious mountain country, I check maps, weather, fuel stops, alternates, and road conditions. I do the same thing for overlanding off-pavement trips. I don’t just wing it and hope for the best. Land use efforts deserve the same respect and effort.
If you’re going to “nibble at the rumble strips” in a public comment period or a land management dispute, you’d better:
Know the travel management plan.
Read the environmental documents.
Understand the opposing argument.
Talk to the agency—early.
Bring solutions, not just noise.
Count the cost before you push the edge.
Precision matters. Rumble strip nibbling is intentional. Blindly crossing double yellow lines is reckless. Let’s look at the difference.
Straightening the Curve
Race drivers don’t attack a corner randomly. They straighten the curve by choosing the cleanest line. They sacrifice a little here to gain more on the exit. They are already thinking about the next straightaway. In stewardship and advocacy, straightening the curve might look like:
Building relationships before a crisis.
Supporting volunteer cleanups before demanding access.
Training new leaders before the old guard burns out.
Compromising on one segment to protect the larger system.
Choosing your battles wisely.
Sometimes the shortest course isn’t the loudest path. It’s the smartest one.
When You Cross the Line
On the other hand, let’s be honest. There are moments when staying perfectly in your lane won’t get the job done. Sometimes you push harder. Sometimes you accelerate the process. Sometimes you intentionally step beyond comfort.
But here’s the deal: If you cross the line, do it for the right reasons. Do it safely. And be ready to own the consequences.
In racing, if you push too hard and slide wide, you don’t blame the track. You don’t blame the rumble strip. You accept that you overcooked the corner.
In land use, if you push a strategy aggressively and it backfires—learn from it. Adjust. “Man up,” and move on. Accountability is our land use horsepower. Own up if you cross those lines, and “stuff happens.” Don’t be that finger-pointing, blame-game person. Take your lumps and learn from them.
If pushing leads to success, take your bows and figure out what worked well so you can do it again.
Full Throttle or Gentle Nibble?
There are seasons when nibbling at the rumble strips is exactly right—steady pressure, calculated risk, controlled progress. And there are times when you floor it.
If you’re going to accelerate an effort—a lawsuit, a legislative push, a major campaign—go in fully prepared:
Understand the terrain.
Have your team aligned.
Know your funding.
Know your messaging.
Be ready for impact.
Because once you go full throttle into the corner, there’s no halfway commitment. You’re on it; you’re in it; and you just have to stay with it. We like to say “throttle out” sometimes as a way to save a situation in an obstacle. The key is to learn when that throttle is better than a nibble – and vice versa.
The Sound of Commitment
That rumbling sound under the tires isn’t failure at all. It’s awareness. It tells you you’re right at the edge—engaged, focused, tuned in.
Too far inside and you leave performance on the table. Too far outside and you leave rubber—and maybe your reputation—on the pavement. The sweet spot is disciplined pressure.
That’s how you protect access.
That’s how you earn respect.
That’s how you shorten the course without wrecking the rig.
Final Thought from the Driver’s Seat
Life throws curves. Public lands throw curves. Leadership throws curves. No matter the path you choose, there will always be “curves.” The question isn’t whether you’ll face them. The question is how you’ll drive them.
Look ahead.
Do your homework.
Respect the boundaries.
Push with purpose.
Own the outcome.
And when the time is right? Nibble at the rumble strips and get ‘r done!
