Peace Love Moto - Where Motorcycling meets Mindfulness
Explore the art of riding with purpose. Hosted by a professional Colorado Rocky Mountain tour guide, Peace Love Moto is your weekly guide to Mindful Motorcycling and finding your Zen on two wheels.
Route 66 turns 100, and that milestone pulls me back to the ride that quietly rewired my outlook on people. I’m Ron Francis in Loveland, Colorado, and I’m retracing a moment from a solo motorcycle trip that started as a simple plan: follow the towns from “Get Your Kicks On Route 66” and enjoy the open road. What I didn’t plan for was a morning in Gallup, New Mexico that hit harder than any mile marker or desert vista.
Traveling alone on a motorcycle makes you approachable in a way a big group often isn’t. You pull off your helmet, you look like just another human passing through, and conversations find you. Outside a local cafe, I met an older man who looked worn down, and my first reaction was pure ego: I assumed I was the helper and he was the one who needed saving. I offered breakfast, ready to feel generous, and I almost offered the kind of “charity advice” that is really just judgment in nicer packaging.
Then he spoke, and everything shifted. With quiet dignity he shared his Navajo heritage, his past as a recovering alcoholic, time in jail, and the chaplain’s words that helped him rebuild his life. He talked about honest work, gratitude for each day, and the rare treasure most of us chase without finding: peace of mind. By the time the meal ended, I realized the lesson wasn’t about what I could give him. It was about what I needed to learn from him.
If you care about solo motorcycle riding, Route 66 history, and the real meaning of kindness, this story is for you. Subscribe, share it with a riding buddy, and leave a review on Apple Podcasts so more riders can find the show. What’s a moment when a stranger taught you something you didn’t expect?
Welcome back to the Peace Love Moto Podcast. I'm your host Ron Francis here in Loveland, Colorado. It was 100 years ago in 1926, Route 66 officially opened. Referred to as the Mother Road, it's a continuous ribbon of roads stretching from the shores of Lake Michigan to the Pacific Ocean. A pathway across the United States carved out for dreamers, wanderers, and anyone looking for a new horizon. Since Route 66 is marking its centennial this year, I'm thinking back to a story that I shared on the very first episode of this podcast. In fact, that experience was the inspiration for this podcast. It happened along that very highway, Route 66, and it's a motorcycle ride that I think changed my life. It changed how I look at people and how I look at myself. And today, as I share this experience with you, I hope that you may be changed too. Thank you for joining me today. Stay tuned. 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!
I love to ride my motorcycle with my buddies, most certainly. I love them. But I mostly ride solo. Riding alone, when you pull off your helmet at a gas station or a roadside cafe, I don't know, you're you're not as intimidating as a pack of motorcycle riders, right? You're just another human being passing through, possibly open for a conversation. And again, at least for me, I make every effort to appear approachable and ready to connect with anyone who comes my way. And they do. A few summers back, I left my home here in Colorado and pointed my motorcycle to the southeast toward Amarillo, Texas, because that's where I picked up Route 66, heading west toward the Pacific. My goal, I was going to stop in every single town mentioned in that classic song from Amarillo West. Get your kicks from Route 66 is that song. I bet you know the tune. My favorite version is the one sung by Nat King Cole.
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Don't forget when I'm on the King Win most standard in the moment. Get him to this time, let's when you make that calf on your trip. Get your kicks on Road 66.
One afternoon, that solo ride took me through Gallup, New Mexico, just like was mentioned in the song, and it's there I spent the night at a local hotel. The next morning, in the cool, high desert air, I rode over to the local cafe for breakfast before continuing west. This, as I was about to learn, would be a very special morning. A very special breakfast. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a man walking nearby. His clothes were weathered, moving a bit slow. Maybe a man in his 70s, possibly or probably Native American. I wasn't sure. I parked, turned off the bike, and as I swung my leg over my motorcycle, he walked over and had a nice smile, and he said, Nice bike. Looking at him, my instinct or my ego kicked in. I looked at his worn appearance and thought about my nice motorcycle, my comfortable home, my financial security, and the family waiting for me back home. And I thought, here is a man who could use my help. Maybe there's something I could do for this poor guy. Yeah, if I have to be honest, that's what I was thinking. So I asked him, Would you like to join me for breakfast? He had a smile on his face and he said, sure. So we walked inside the cafe and slid into a booth, and I handed him the menu and said, Order whatever you want. It's on me. So in my mind, I was already patting myself on the back, thinking this might be the best meal that this fellow's had in a while. In fact, I was ready to offer him a little, I don't know, charity, maybe even share some well-intentioned advice on how he could turn his life around and build a comfortable life just like mine. Yeah, that's what I almost did. But the heavens above had a different plan. A very different plan. And he gave me a masterclass in how to live a good life. I didn't expect that. He introduced himself with a quiet dignity, speaking of his immense pride about his Navajo heritage. And over warm coffee for the next several minutes, he shared his heart with me. He told me that he was a recovering alcoholic who had spent some time behind bars. And while he was incarcerated, a jail chaplain sat down with him and said words that he has never forgotten. The chaplain told him that no matter what his past was, he was a good man with a good heart, and he still had a bright future ahead of him. He told me that he took those words to heart, and when he got out of jail, he started rebuilding his life one day at a time. He told me that now he had a steady job right down the street from the cafe working as a car wash attendant, and he loved his work. And more importantly, he told me that he loved each day he was given. And as he put it, for once in his life, he had finally found peace of mind. And hearing that stopped me dead in my tracks. But that wasn't God's plan at all for that meeting. This Native American gentleman was sitting across from me holding the one treasure every human on this earth spends a lifetime searching for and sometimes never finds. Genuine peace of mind. This gentleman didn't need my pity. He didn't need my unsolicited advice. He was already content and more wealthy in spirit than almost anyone I had ever met. He finished his plate and wiped his hands and said he needed to head out so he wouldn't be late for his job. He thanked me for the meal, and as he stood up, I shook his hand, looked him in the eye, and I said, Just thank you, sir. Thank you. He stepped out of the cafe. And I sat there alone in that booth for a long time, sipping my coffee, and letting that lesson, that life lesson that I had just learned soak in. Because I felt like I had
just learned something about humanity and about life and about how wonderful life can be. After sitting there in the cafe for a while, I was just yeah, just trying to soak all this in, sipping coffee. Uh I finally let the uh waitress know that I was ready for my check. And she came over with a big smile on her face and she shook her head and she said, There's no check. The manager watched you two talking, and he took care of both of your meals. So that was a magical experience out on a road, and I did not expect that at all. And maybe that's the way we ought to be going through life without expectations and just see what kind of magic may happen. Route 66 spans over 2,000 miles of history with its neon signs and desert vistas. But of all the miles I've logged along that road and elsewhere in the United States, that small cafe in Gallup, New Mexico is the place that stays with me. To that Navajo gentleman who I may not see again this side of heaven, thank you, sir. Just like that chaplain reminded you of who you are, you reminded me of who I ought to be.
Thank you so much for listening, as always. And if today's episode brought a little extra peace and inspiration to your day, I'm so glad. Just share it with a riding buddy. A review, especially on Apple Podcasts, or if you'd like to write reviews, that'd be really, really helpful. It really helps to spread the word about the podcast. And if you'd like to support us, there's ideas on how to do that in the show notes. But until we visit again, hey my friends, go for a ride. Visit with a stranger and listen to what they may have to teach you. One random act of kindness may just change your life. Peace.
