A Calm Invitation To Listen

Ron 0:18

Hi friends, I would encourage you now to take a moment to relax, to take a deep breath, and to listen to these words from a very wise and a very loving Dakota grandmother to her grandson. She said this. I'm Ron Francis in Loveland, Colorado, where today we are diving deep into the psychology of motorcycle travel. Very deep. And more importantly, I think if we're focused and if we're careful, we may be able to open ourselves up to being changed by that journey. Thank you for joining me today. Stay tuned.

A Dakota Grandmother’s Life Lesson

Ron 1:50

I explored the area on foot and saw the ruins of these very old Indian villages, and it was there that I purchased a book on Indian philosophy. It's deep. After his mother died when he was still very young, he was raised entirely by his paternal grandmother, a revered Dakota woman named Chi Yu Qi. He called her Unchita, which is the affectionate and respectful Dakota name for grandmother. This grandmother raised her grandson completely in the tradition of the Dakota way. She didn't just teach him how to survive and embrace his heritage, she also taught him how to listen. She instilled in him a love for nature. She demonstrated to him the power of storytelling and the philosophy of lifelong learning. As for me, had I not been traveling without a real plan or particular route in mind, I could have easily missed that little bookstore inside the National Monument. It's really a miracle that I ran across those words at all, given that at the time I was just exploring along a lonely road where I'd never been before. I didn't even know that the National Monument was out there. But it was along that road that I caught it out of the corner of my eye, and I stopped and turned right around in the middle of the road to go back and check it out. And I'm so glad that I did. Because you see, I was met there by a Native American park ranger who warmly greeted me. He shook my hand and I believe he said, Sir, I'm so glad you stopped to see us. Yeah, he was a nice man. He talked to me quite a while. He was just very enthusiastic that I pick up what they had to say. And if I did anything right, I listened. What a great experience. What a great unexpected experience. You remember what doctor Eastman's grandmother told him? When you see a new trail or a footprint you do not know, follow it to the point of knowing. Maybe in a little way I did. Well, let's think about that for a second. Follow it to the point of knowing. It's a directive, I guess, rooted in what we may call radical curiosity. I like that term. I'd even call it courage. It's a willingness to step into the unfamiliar for the sake of learning. Of knowing.

When A Quote Meets The Highway

Ron 5:30

As usual, after leaving the National Monument with my brand new little book, I stopped to start reading it at a small coffee shop in Durango, which was about half an hour away. As I read those words, When You See a New Trail, my mind immediately drifted to what I was doing right then, traveling by motorcycle. It actually brought to mind a song that I always like. I've probably mentioned this before, but inside my helmet I play one song after another, all in my head. The song is Life is a Highway, and the version I like is sung by Rascal Flats, and it was used in the Pixar movie called Cars. Oh wow. How the words to that song fit that quote, I think. We all sing along to the chorus, but if you look at the actual lyrics, I think it's pretty close to the same spirit of the quote from that wonderful Dakota grandmother. Some of the lyrics say, Life's like a road that you travel on, when there's one day here and the next day gone. Sometimes you bend and sometimes you stand, and sometimes you turn your back to the wind, because life is a highway, and I want to ride it all night long. That desire to ride it all night long isn't about rushing to a specific destination. I think that it's embracing the mystery of the road itself. It's saying, I'm completely mentally and spiritually open to whatever this road has to show me.

Planning Matters But Not Too Much

Ron 7:32

Now, let's be honest. To a certain extent, thorough trip planning is a great idea. Yeah, we're strong advocates of that around here. We've all been there. It's smart to look at the weather, to map out fuel stops through desolate areas, and to generally know where you want to lay your head for the night's stay. Nobody wants to be stranded on the side of a mountain at midnight in a pouring rain, trying to find a place to put up a tent in the dark. But there's a distinct breed of rider out there, and you may be one of them. These are the riders who prepare for the ride just enough to be safe and secure, but they don't overplan. They deliberately leave a buffer. They leave a space for the unexpected, an opportunity for the unexpected. So let's call that space the gap. Maybe think of it this way. The gap is the distance between a rigid itinerary and total chaos. It's the blank space on your calendar. And I firmly believe that some of the absolute best, most transformative ride experiences, at least that I've ever had, have been in the gap. I believe that I found the National Monument, the bookstore, and that book in the gap. You see, I think that when you're overscheduled for your ride, when you know exactly what time you'll be hitting every single waypoint, and you know where you're planning to eat lunch and which tourist trap you'll be stopping at, you inadvertently close the door on chance, on opportunity, on serendipity. How's that for a great word? You become a manager of a schedule rather than an explorer of everything around you.

The Gap Where Serendipity Lives

Ron 9:48

You see, when you ride within the gap, your mindset shifts. You're no longer just trying to make good time, instead, you sit on the bike cruising down some unknown road, and maybe a whisper comes into your head. A whisper of a prayer that says, Show me what I have not seen. Show me what you have to show me, and allow me to be open for new connections and ideas, and most of all, grant me the gift of an open mind. As another line from Life is a Highway says, there's a world outside every darkened door. But I'll tell you, you have to be willing to open the door and look. And you have to build in enough unscheduled, unrushed time to even catch the door out of the corner of your eye. So when we let go of the need to control every mile, we make room for the magic. We meet people we would have never talked to. We see vistas that aren't on any tourist map. We find roadside diners that have the best pie you've ever tasted, and we have conversations that shift our perspective, possibly on all of humanity. I believe that traveling on a motorcycle is already an act of vulnerability, which is good. We're exposed to the helmet, sure, the wind and the risks of riding, but when you couple that physical openness with mental openness, when you actively seek the gap, that trip stops just being a vacation. It becomes a catalyst. It becomes a journey that can legitimately, if you're lucky, change your life.

Your Next Ride’s Simple Challenge

Ron 12:15

So my challenge to you, my friends, for your next ride is this pack your gear, check your tires, map out your first day for sure, but leave the rest maybe a little blurry. When you see that unknown footprint or the unmapped road that you just catch out of the corner of your eye, maybe turn around and follow it to the point of knowing. So let's let the highway show you what it has to show you. And let's ride it all night long. And as always, remember, be good to yourself, be good to other people. Maybe buy yourself or a friend, a mug or a sticker from the Peace Love Photo store. It's great to be with you, my friends. Right safe. Have fun.