I often get the question: Why would a civilized, sophisticated and handsome uptown citizen like myself fall for the dirty, muddy and dusty sins of off-roading? Why channel the inner beast in the reckless torturing of two-and-a-half tons of fragile steel on improbable slopes and challenging tracks? Why bear the dirt, the shocks, the smell, the grease, the danger while I could be sipping some Octomore, a nice careful marvel of the Scottish wood and peat whiskey, in my rocker?
Because off-roading is strategy. It’s brain gaming. It’s projecting, observing, calculating, adapting. It’s battlefield training of my management skills, making split second decisions, under pressure, with -literally- a life at stake: mine. Pivoting angles, projecting possible futures, and steering the Landrover in the most plausible one. It’s hardworking, blood boiling, heart-racing, mind-boggling, gut wrenching, nerve-racking and almost embarrassingly satisfying. It’s me.
Small interventions, and quick changes can deliver very different outcomes… in off-roading, in Lego… and in business life…
