If you’re reading this, you’re probably doing it on a screen. A phone, a tablet, a laptop. And don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you being here — but here’s a gentle nudge: when you’re done, put the device down. Step outside. Breathe in some fresh air.
Because here’s the truth: we’ve all been tricked into thinking “connection” means double-tapping a photo or firing off a thumbs-up emoji. That’s not connection. That’s the fast food version of connection — quick, easy, and ultimately not all that satisfying.
The real thing? It’s sitting across from someone, coffee in hand, laughing until your face hurts. It’s hearing a story told in the rhythm of their own voice, not 280 characters. And for me — and for the folks who come to our RS Xperience rallies — it’s standing in a mountain lodge parking lot at sunrise, surrounded by cars and people who came together for one simple reason: they love to drive.
From Screens to Steering Wheels
We live in a world where outrage is a commodity. Social media and TV news thrive on it. Their business model depends on you clicking, commenting, and sharing. Which means they’ll crank the sensationalism dial to eleven if it gets you to stick around.
But you know what’s better than being glued to the drama machine? Turning the key, pressing the start button, and hearing the engine come to life. Rolling the windows down. Feeling the sun — or even the rain — on your arm. Smelling the pines as you wind through a mountain pass.
That’s the antidote to the noise. It’s hard to get wound up about the latest viral “disaster” when you’re laughing over the radio with your driving group about the world’s slowest minivan blocking a hairpin curve.
More in Common Than You Think
One of my favorite things about these rallies is looking around at the people who show up. They come from all walks of life. Executives. Artists. Engineers. Retirees. People who might not cross paths in the “real world.” And yet here they are, parked side by side, comparing notes on tire pressures and debating the best line through a corner.
Out on the road, none of that other stuff matters. Not where you’re from. Not what you do for a living. The car and the road are the great equalizers. You quickly realize we’ve got more in common than we think — especially the thrill that comes when you nail a perfect set of back-to-back curves and glance in your mirror to see the car behind you dancing through them just as smoothly.
The Outdoors Prescription
I’m convinced that part of what makes these drives so special is the outdoors itself. We spend too much of our lives indoors under fluorescent lights, breathing recycled air, staring at glowing rectangles.
But on a rally weekend? You’re out in it. Early morning sun lighting up the fog in the valleys. The rich smell of wet asphalt after a passing shower. The chorus of engines echoing off the hillsides. Even the rain has its charm — the wipers keeping rhythm while you focus on the road, your tires whispering through the water, the world around you a blur of green and grey.
There’s something about sharing that sensory overload with other people that bonds you in ways a “like” button never could.
Laughter, the Unplanned Kind
Something magical happens when people relax and start to enjoy each other’s company without the filter of a screen. The jokes get funnier. The smiles get bigger. And it’s not the forced, “let’s take a selfie” kind of laughter. It’s the real stuff — the kind that sneaks up on you when someone makes a perfectly timed comment over the walkie-talkie, or you see a friend hop out of their car at a scenic stop with hair that looks like they just stuck their head in a leaf blower.
We’re rediscovering what used to be normal — talking to each other, laughing together, and feeling like we belong. That’s a big part of what people walk away with after a rally. Yes, the roads are incredible. Yes, the cars are amazing. But it’s the people that make it memorable.
Disconnect to Reconnect
When you strip away the notifications, the breaking news alerts, and the infinite scroll, you make space for real connection. For conversations that meander like the roads we drive. For the shared experience of cresting a ridge to see the mountains stretch out before you, and knowing everyone in the group is taking in the same breathtaking view.
You don’t get that staring at a phone.
And I think we need more of that — not just on rally weekends, but in life. To seek out opportunities to meet people face-to-face. To be outdoors. To find common ground in shared passions, even with folks who might see the world differently than we do.
What You Take With You
At the end of a rally weekend, after the last breakfast and the last goodbyes, something happens. People who arrived as strangers are exchanging phone numbers. They’re making plans to meet up for another drive, or just to grab dinner the next time they’re in each other’s city.
It reminds me of something one of our regulars said years ago:
“Coming to your rallies is like going to camp as a kid. You show up not knowing anyone, wondering if you’ll fit in. Then you have a blast, meet fantastic people, and you don’t want to leave.”
That’s the road to real connection. It’s not complicated. It’s not algorithm-driven. It’s just people, cars, and the open road — and the willingness to put down the phone long enough to enjoy them.
So maybe it’s time we all took that road a little more often.
When was the last time you truly disconnected — put the phone away, ignored the noise online, and simply enjoyed being present with people who share your passions? What did you discover about yourself or others when you did?
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