One of the many things Mike and I have always loved about these road trips is the people we meet along the way. Motorcycles provide an instant connection, excuse or curiosity from people, even non-riders, that opens up real conversations. Where are you coming from?   What roads have you traveled? Where are you headed? 

The best rides are off the beaten path, where you find time-warped towns filled with lovingly cared for little motels, campgrounds, diners or bars, seemingly unaffected by the world at large. A simple “May I join you?” or “Good morning, how are you?”  is an invitation to sit back and hear someone’s story.

Bill and Barbara run the Riverside Ranch in Hatch, Utah, where we spent three nights camped by the Sevier river enjoying the light on the Red Rocks and a night sky filled with so many stars it was humbling. Perfectly situated between Bryce Canyon and Zion, it set us up for two of the most beautiful day rides we have ever done. I had called the office that morning from Colorado and spoke to Bill who encouraged us to come on down and pick a spot. No reservation necessary…if we got there late, just pitch a tent and settle up later. 

The cold woke me up early and I set off the quarter mile to the office in search of hot coffee and a battery charge for the camera. I opened the office door to a smiling Bill and a heartfelt, welcoming “Good morning !” Happy to unplug a lamp and let me charge up, Bill suggested I make a cup of coffee and chat for a bit while I warmed up from sleeping in a tent on a 48 degree night. I sat down and asked Bill how they wound up in a little town in Utah running a campground.

Bill’s story was captivating and beautifully told. A simple life by choice, full of the joy of a loving wife, three children, and grandchildren. There were times of hardship and growth, reinventing himself and his career, travel, outdoor adventure, unexpected opportunities and the courage to take them. The most recent being an invitation to relocate part of the year from their long time home in Michigan to a remote town in Utah helping their daughter and son-in-law turn a dream into a reality.  The kindness, respect and admiration they have for each other made it obvious to me that they have shared a lifetime of experiences, good and bad, and turned it in to a beautiful story that they are still writing.

They are still writing.   They didn’t stop writing, and they could have.   We can all stop writing our stories.  But the difficult times they have been through received no more emphasis in the telling of their tale than the good times. He  was grateful for all of it. Tough times made them stronger and did not define them.  They only added to their story.  

You have a story.   We all have a story.  Never, ever, stop writing your story.