Riding Warm With Full Gear

A Tour Guide Lesson In Cold Wind

Why Good Gear Feels Peaceful

Gearing Up As Mindfulness Practice

Protect The Rider And Honor Life

Ride Safe With Gratitude

Ron 0:01

There's a phrase you hear quite a lot in the motorcycling world, all the gear all the time. Or maybe you see the abbreviation ATG ATT. Well, most experienced riders treat it as a rule. It's a safety slogan, something you repeat because you're supposed to. But over the years, I've come to see all the gear all the time as something a lot more meaningful to me. It's become a ritual, it has for a long, long time. It's this quiet, grounding moment that sets the tone for my entire ride, for my entire day out on the bike. And I do this because it starts what I hope will be a meaningful ride. A ride where I come home with a big smile on my face. And my friends, most of the time, it works. It really works. Let's talk about it. Thank you for joining me today. Recorded in beautiful, loveliness, Colorado. Welcome to Peace Love Moto, the podcast for motorcyclists seeking that peaceful, easy feeling as we cruise through this life together. Are you ready? Let's go. It'll be 30 degrees outside, and they see me opening the garage door, standing there in my full riding gear, and rolling my motorcycle out and heading out for a ride. They're right, I guess, that I'm a little bit crazy, but the fact is, is that I've got all the gear. And specifically on those cold days when I can plug in my heated gear, man, that makes for a really nice day. Sure, call me a nut, but the fact is I've got a big smile on my face and I'm warm and I'm comfortable out there on the bike, even when it's cold. I've been a part-time tour guide in the national park for about six years now. I think I've taken about 3,000 people out into the wilderness. So sometimes the National Park tour guides will get together in the evenings at Onestus Park. I love these people. Tour guides are tough. They're physically fit, they love nature, and almost every one of them have a really good sense of humor. They're really funny. Yeah, when we get together, we trade stories about tours that went great, and we also talk about the tour that was just strange. If you have a new tour guide in the group, I often share my story about taking a family from Miami into the national park. This was in early spring, so their expectation was that it would be warm. Little did they know that in the higher elevations it's not warm at all in Rocky Mountain National Park. So being a well-prepared guide, I always carry extra winter clothes and coats, hats, gloves to share with my guests who may be ill-prepared. Anyway, this one instance that I enjoyed sharing with the new tour guides is how to be diplomatic when it comes to understanding how to manage yourself in a wilderness setting, especially in the high elevations. So, yeah, I had this large family from Miami in the back of my Jeep, and it was starting to get cold as we got into the higher elevations. And of course, in the higher elevations of Rocky Mountain National Park or any place in Colorado, it begins to get windy as well. Well, one young lady in my group did indeed have on her coat, but it was unzipped. And as the wind blew, so did her jacket. As the wind blew, her jacket just went flailing into the wind. And I heard her say to her friends, I am freezing. Now, what I could have said if I were not diplomatic, and if I were not interested in a good tip at the end of the tour, I could have said, Well, madam, if you would zip up your jacket, but no, I wanted to be diplomatic, and I was also interested in a good tip. So rather, I gave it a few minutes watching her jacket just flap away in the breeze. And then I went over to the whole group holding one of my spare jackets, and I demonstrated to the group, said, remember, it's your body that generates the heat, and the clothing just traps the heat. So be sure and wear your jacket fully zipped up and closed all the way to the neck so that none of the heat leaks out. And better yet, if you've got a scarf and a hat, that'll just make a world of difference. Well, guess what? Moments later, I noticed the young lady had indeed zipped up her jacket, and she was a happy camper for the rest of the tour. And yep, as I recall, I got a really good tip from that tour. So, all is well. I share these stories because of the many years that I've been riding a motorcycle since I was a little kid, and especially here in Colorado for the past 30 years, I want to be a happy camper too, just like that tourist from Miami, especially in the conditions that we have around here, but really anytime out on the bike. I've learned what makes me happy and comfortable is a good quality jacket, zipped up, of course, a good quality, very, very comfortable helmet, motorcycle gloves, pants, and boots. The entire package together, it does indeed make me feel really good. I guess because they fit, but I know too that it's just really good quality and I know what they're designed to do just in case I need them. But I can also tell you, I could take it a step further too by saying that the right gear not only makes me comfortable and feel safe, it also makes me feel peaceful. It allows me to even feel mindful. It allows me to more fully enjoy what I'm doing with the knowledge that I'm not exposing myself to more danger than I need to. When you're getting ready to head out for a ride, you don't rush through the process. You just take your time. You pull on your jacket and you feel the weight of it across your shoulders. You slide your hands into your gloves and you notice that familiar snugness, that perfect fit around your fingers. You fasten on your helmet and you hear the soft tick of the strap as it locks into place. And each step slows you down just a little bit, and that's okay. Because you see, each step brings you into the present. It's that part that we don't talk about enough. That ATG ATT, all the gear all the time. It's not just about protection, it's about a presence too. It's about a moment to breathe before you fire up the engine. A moment to acknowledge that what you're about to do requires attention, certainly respect, and a clear mind. When you're fully geared up, at least for me, something shifts. There's a new sense of readiness. Because I don't know, it's just a new sense of calm because I feel like I'm ready to go. I'm not thinking about what might happen or what could go wrong. I'm just simply there, grounded in the moment, prepared for whatever the road brings. And that preparation creates freedom. It frees your mind from worry. It frees your body from tension. It frees your ride from distraction. You see, there's a Zen mindfulness quality to that, a discipline that mirrors mirrors meditation, really, I think. I think too that all the gear all the time is a promise we make to ourselves. A promise to be fully present, a promise to respect the bike, respect the ride, and I think most importantly, a promise to honor the body that carries us through life. I know we often talk about our motorcycles as having a sole. We polish the chrome and we listen for the slightest tick of the engine when it's cooling off. We provide our bikes with the best care money can buy. But sometimes I think we forget that the most sophisticated piece of machinery on that bike is you. It's the body sitting in the saddle. It's your lungs, your legs, your hands, your senses, it's your brain that's being carried along inside that helmet. These are the parts that are actually super important because they allow us to experience this amazing sensation of riding a motorcycle, which we so dearly love. When we pull on our boots and zip up our jacket, we're not just bracing for the what if. I don't think we think like that at all. I think we're just acknowledging the incredible gift of being alive with the physical and mental abilities to ride a motorcycle. Not everybody has that. From riding the farm roads of Bikinney, Texas when I was 11 years old on this tiny little mini-bike to riding the highest roads in Rocky Mountain National Park and beyond. It's worked hard, it's played hard, and now in retirement, it's my ticket to the freedom of the open road and time now. To even consider riding unprotected isn't just a safety risk to me. It feels like a lack of gratitude. By choosing all the gear, I'm making a silent, maybe sacred promise to honor this vessel that has carried me through life. And I tell myself, I value this life. I value the hands that twist the throttle, and I respect the journey enough to protect the traveler. That's me. So when I start viewing gear as a tribute rather than a chore, I think the entire ritual changes. I think it works for all of us, really. You stop feeling restricted by the weight of the helmet and you start feeling cherished by it. It's this physical manifestation of self-respect, I think. It says that the right is important, but the writer is irreplaceable. So the next time you're preparing to head out, take a breath as you fasten on the chin strap for your helmet. Feel the sturdiness of your gloves. Recognize that you aren't just gearing up, you are keeping a promise to the only body you will ever have. You and I both know that it's difficult times right now in this world. A lot of confusion, a lot of stress. But here's the thing: motorcycles have a way of stripping down life to what really matters. When we are intentional about getting out there, being safe, the noise falls away, the clutter fades, and what's left is you, your machine, and that moment that you're in. And what a gift that is. So as you head out on your next ride, let the ritual guide you. Let it slow you down just enough to breathe and know that you're breathing. Feel the weight of your gear, the quiet anticipation before the engine even turns over, and let it remind you that riding isn't just something to do, it's a way of being. So, my friends, until we visit again, ride safe, ride aware, ride with gratitude, and I do wish you peace. And I wish you love.