Mark Twain said, Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Yeah, I get it. You know, we talk a lot on this podcast about the physical act of riding, the feeling of freedom as we carve through the twisty canyon roads or cruise down an open highway. But today, we'll talk about something just as important. Something that's at the heart of why I ride, anyway, and why I think so many of you do too. That's the power of connection. And maybe most importantly, the realization that this world is amazing, and many of the people in it are too. Those who are not prejudiced, those who are not bigots, those who are not narrow-minded, just like you. And you're amazing. Stay tuned. Are you ready? Let's go! I don't wash my motorcycle that often. Especially not my BMW GS adventure. Why leave the dirt on? Because so many people notice that this bike is made for travel and it's made to go anywhere, like remote dirt roads. I like that. I like when the gear that I'm wearing, my boots and my pants, are a little bit worn too, and they really, really are. Maybe it's the same concept for people who are buy these jeans that already have holes in them. Or maybe not. That probably is a poor analogy. But maybe you know what I mean. I like people who get out there, who travel, who get dirty every once in a while. Those are my kind of people. And motorcycling is a unique form of transportation, sure, but more than that, it's a conversation starter, and sometimes that little bit of dirt on you or the bike is an invitation to that conversation. When you pull up on your bike, especially one that's clearly been on a journey, it sparks something in people. It maybe it breaks down barriers. People who might never otherwise give you a second glance will walk up and say, Where are you headed? And where have you been? And hopefully they'll say, That's a nice bike. It's just like a knock at the door, right? All you have to do is open it. It's these seemingly small moments, a nod, a wave, or a brief hello at a gas station that can lead to the most amazing conversations. And if you're lucky, maybe it turns into a friendship too, where you exchange contact information. That's happened to me a lot. It's these moments that we have the opportunity to step outside of our own little bubbles and connect with the world around us and the people who live in it. It's a collection of travel essays, and there's a piece in it by the writer Pico Lyer, and it's called Why We Travel. And in it he writes this. And we travel next to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and our eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers can accommodate. We travel to bring what little we can in our ignorance and knowledge to those parts of the globe whose riches are differently dispersed. And we travel, in essence, to become young fools again, to slow time down and get taken in and fall in love once more. It speaks to that sense of wonder, that openness to the world, that we can sometimes lose as we get older and as we become more set in our ways, says the old guy. But when you're on a motorcycle, at least when I'm on a motorcycle, exposed to the elements, completely present in the moment, it's hard not to feel that sense of childlike wonder come back. I always say I feel like my 11-year-old self when I'm on the bike. Because we're not just observing the world behind a pane of glass, we're actually part of it. We're smelling the pine trees, we're feeling the change in temperatures as we ride through the valleys. Yes, we're meeting people along the way too. And I love that. We're meeting the people who live in those places that we're passing through. And for me, that's when the real magic happens, because it's easy to have this preconceived notion about people and places we've never experienced firsthand. It's easy to let the headlines and the stereotypes shape our worldview. But as Mark Twain said in his book, The Innocence Abroad, he said this travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on those accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and women and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one corner of the earth as if it's your own. Others from other races, from other cultures, other walks of life. They've never sat down and shared a meal with someone whose life experience is completely different from their own. They've never had their assumptions challenged by a simple conversation with a stranger. But when you travel, especially on a motorcycle, I do believe this. Because we don't have the luxury of that kind of isolation, we're out in the world, literally, right? You're gonna meet people. And more often than not, you'll find that the things that divide us are far less significant than the things that connect us. Maya Angelou, in her beautiful book of essays called Won't Take Nothing for My Journey Now, she wrote the following. Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends. And that's the hope, isn't it? By venturing out, by opening ourselves up to the world and its people, we can break down the walls and build bridges. We can see the humanity in each other regardless of our differences. Pico Lyre goes on to say this in his essay. And in the process, we also get saved from the abstractions ourselves and come to see how much we can bring to the places we visit, how much we can become a kind of carrier pigeon, an anti-federal express, if you like, in transporting back and forth what every culture needs. Hmm. He said we're all carrier pigeons in a way. We carry our own stories, our own perspectives, and we have the opportunity to share them with people we meet along the way. And that imitation is there right underneath us all the time on that motorcycle. And then in turn, we can learn from these stories, their stories and their perspectives. It's a beautiful exchange. And it's one of the many reasons why I love to ride a motorcycle so much. Because it introduces us, it introduces me to the opportunity to look beyond my own life and into not only breathtaking nature and the natural world that I'm riding into, but a world full of wonderful, diverse, and fascinating people. I love that. He was sitting right next to a brand new Decotti motorcycle, and it was beautiful. So after I finished filling up the social butterfly that I am, I went over to him to compliment his bike and ask him where he was planning to ride. And he replied that, well, he's still thinking about it. So I invited him to follow me through the mountains to one of my favorite coffee shops, going the long way, of course. And it was there, after a few minutes, that he told me the full story. It was over that cup of coffee that he told me, yes, it was a Ducati, brand new. And in fact, he had just ridden it off the showroom floor and it was filling up with gas for the very first time. And he said that after filling up, he wasn't sure what to do next. So he just parked the bike and sat on the bench for a while. And I'll never forget, it was after a moment's pause. He went on to tell me that his wife had passed away just two weeks earlier. He said that it was her wish that after everything was settled after the funeral, that he would go out and buy a motorcycle, the one he'd dreamed of. And so he did. So this very day, he had bought the motorcycle, rolled it off the showroom floor, stopped for gas where I met him, and he said, In the distress of losing his wife, it overcame him. And he couldn't ride right then. He just needed to sit. He said, That's when you came over and said hello and invited me to go for a ride and to have a cup of coffee at this cafe. And he told me he really appreciated that. You see, my friends, it doesn't take too much to make a big difference. I had no idea what that man was going through. I just saw he had a really nice motorcycle, and I was pretty sure that the dude on a motorcycle would be somebody I would enjoy riding with and having a cup of coffee with. Yeah, I had no idea what was going on at the time in that man's life, but I'm so grateful that our common interest, motorcycles, brought us together. Very grateful for that. This happens to be Thanksgiving weekend here in the United States. It's a time to be thankful. It's time to be grateful. So I have a challenge for you. The next time that you're out on your bike and you see someone eyeing your motorcycle at a gas station or in the middle of nowhere at a rest stop, just pause for a second and don't just give a polite nod and speed away, but instead take a breath and tap into a little bit of humanity, a little bit of gratitude. And in that spirit of gratitude, remind yourself what a gift it is that you have a motorcycle that you love to ride and then that you're out there, right? Ask that person how their day is going and listen, really listen to what they have to say. It doesn't matter if they look different than you, or if they vote differently than you, or come from a completely different walk of life. In that moment, you're just two humans on a little patch of earth together. You never know where that might lead, and you never know what that little conversation may mean to someone else who really needs to hear a friendly voice. That friendly voice will be you. So do that, my friends. Go out there, be grateful for the miles, ride safe, and have a ball. Until we visit again. Thanks for listening. I wish you peace and I wish you love it.