A Perfect Colorado Loop Ride

The Hidden Skill Of Riding

Gratitude For Body And Mind

Ron 0:04

As I write down ideas for this episode, I'm sitting in a coffee shop, as I normally do. But today I'm looking at the world a little differently because of what's around me. So I'm at Colorado Coffee in old downtown Loveland, Colorado. I rode my electric scooter here today, which I often do. I've been here many, many times. But today, right now, oh my, things are different. I'm surrounded by some very, very special people. In front of me right now, there's a young man, maybe 15 years old. He's pacing between my table and the front door. Back and forth. Back and forth. In fact, when I came into the coffee shop a few minutes ago, I saw him coming my way, so I held the door open for him. But he turned right around. He just looked down, turned around, and went back into the shop. One hand pressed firmly against his head, whispering something. But sometimes he was a little louder, still couldn't understand what he was saying. I guess it was a private conversation with himself. Autism, I think. Pacing back and forth in his own world. I placed my order and sat down. And behind me and to my left, a group of six young people, maybe in their late teens, each with Down syndrome. They're all huddled together around a game table. They are talking and laughing, truly laughing, with a kind of unfiltered joy that you and I, as adults, we probably hide that, keeping our adult composure in a public place, but not them. They laugh and they talk and they smile. Joy is just beaming from their faces. Watching them, listening to them, it makes me realize how high the walls can be for some. Okay. Now hold that thought. On Tuesday, I took my BMW GS for what turned out to be a 280-mile loop through the mountains. Scone all day. Loved it. It was one of those perfect Colorado days. Full sun, crisp air, and the peaks were still holding on to the snow. I crossed the Continental Divide twice at 10,000 feet above sea level, moving through the twisty, smooth country roads and from time to time out on those remote dirt roads, those roads where my wife doesn't like me to ride by myself. But I did. It's really fun. I took some pictures that I'll share with you on Instagram if you'd like to have a look. Tempts all day ran from 55 to 75 all day long. I rode through Winter Park, Colorado on my loop. Some call it Ski Country USA. I stopped for a few minutes to watch the skiers way up on the mountain. It's been a lean snow year for us this year, and the runs are a bit thin, but those skiers didn't care. They were picking their lines down those steep slopes with total dedication. From there, I caught Highway 70, riding east for a few miles, then I headed south through the old mining towns of Central City and Black Hawk along the Peak to Peak Highway, then on to Netherland, home of the carousel of happiness, one of my favorite places on earth. From there, I dropped down through Boulder Canyon and through the University of Colorado campus there in Boulder, and then finally north along the foothills back to my home in Loveland. My app told me that I averaged 40 miles an hour over those 280 miles. Twisting, curving roads through the mountains slow you down, and that's fine because that's why we're out there, right? No need to hurry. Just enough time to take it all in. And I did. It was a wonderful, wonderful day. Fantastic. But sitting here in this coffee shop right now, I realize that riding is actually a physical and mental miracle that you and I get to do anytime we want to. Think about what we do when we swing a leg over a motorcycle. We aren't just sitting there. We're engaging in this complex, fun, scary, high-speed neurological dance. How's that for a mouthful? Our hands are doing two very different things. One managing the throttle with millimeter precision and applying the front brake to perfection. The other hand is feathering the clutch and managing the turn signals. One foot is managing the transitions between gears, and the other is the rear-wheel braking with its partner, the right hand on the front brake. Our eyes, they're scanning the horizon 100 yards ahead, processing light, shadow, gravel, slick spots, watching for animals, and the intentions of other drivers. Every second, our brain is processing a thousand data points. We are calculating lean angles, friction zones, closing speeds, often without thinking about it at all. We have the cognitive and the physical freedom to choose a direction, hop on the bike, and literally climb to the roof of the continent if we want to. We just think about it and go. It's more than just mechanics, right? It's autonomy. It's a gift. We get frustrated when our GPS is not working right or if the traffic slows us down. But we sit in a room like this for about 20 minutes here at the coffee shop and we realize if you have the physical ability and the mental clarity to ride a motorcycle, you are among the luckiest people in the world, in my opinion. Maybe it's yours too. We've been given this toolkit of senses and motor skills that allow us to experience the world in high definition. We get to feel the temperature drop over the shadows of the canyons. We get to smell the pine trees and the damp earth. We get to dance with gravity. So I'll close with this. I love to ride my motorcycle, and you do too. Whether it's a sport you've just discovered or something that you've done since you were a little kid, it's just so much fun, and it's just so gratifying. It's good for me, it's good for my heart, it's good for my head, it's good for my soul. I just need to keep reminding myself that writing is a privilege, it's a gift. The day at the coffee shop has reminded me of that. Because writing is a celebration of a body and a mind that are working perfectly in harmony. And that, my friends, is something that you and I can be very, very grateful for. So next time you're gearing up, take a second, check your gratitude, look at your bike, look at the horizon, and realize that the very fact that you can reach the handlebars, that's a gift. So until we visit again, be good to yourself, be good to other people, and have some fun. I'll see you out there.