On Ghost Roads 

A song about driving dirt roads in the Mojave desert at night.
When I lived in Orange County, California, my favorite get-away was driving down Highway 62 past Joshua Tree, past 29 Palms, and then turning off-road cutting north next to the Sheep Hole Mountains to a dry lake bed in the middle of that valley. We would bring our dirt bikes, Jeeps, VWs, and hunt rabbits, or just drive around and explore. We'd shoot our guns, hike, and ride in the daytime, but at night we'd lie on the ground or in cots and look up at the stars looking for satellites and shooting stars. It was a beautiful place, public lands that were made of decomposed granite and creosote bushes. You couldn't destroy it. It was made for this. But Washington folks can't leave a good thing alone, so they made it a wilderness. No access by car. You had to hike in there. No more motorcycle rides. No more Jeep exploring. No more rabbit hunts. No more camping in our favorite spots. No more loving the quiet, the beauty of the desert at night. That's when I decided to leave California. TMP, TMC. Too many people, too many cars, and now our favorite escape was taken away.
www.blm.gov/ca/...
Signs indicating "Wilderness" and "Closed Road" or "Closed Route" are placed at various intervals. Vehicles can be parked outside the wilderness boundary; however, the boundary is set back 30 feet from unmaintained dirt roads and 300 feet on paved roads.
Mechanized or motorized vehicles are NOT PERMITTED in a wilderness.