In this episode of Peace Love Moto, I share one of the most powerful moments I've experienced as a tour guide in Rocky Mountain National Park—when a guest from Chicago stood beside me and said, “Ron, I feel the presence of God here.”

That moment reminded me why I ride and why I guide—to help others connect with something greater. I will share about the deep contrast between my corporate day job and the stillness I find on a motorcycle in the wilderness.

Adventure riding isn’t just about dirt roads and distant views—it’s about mindfulness, healing, and peace. We reflect on how the open road helps peel back the layers of everyday stress and reveals something deeper.

Whether it's a Jeep Tour in Rocky Mountain National Park or a solo ride into the mountains, I believe these experiences change us. Riding is therapy. It's spiritual. It's real. In this episode, I invite you to ride with me—not just through the mountains of Colorado, but into a deeper part of yourself.

Let’s talk about resilience, reflection, and rediscovering purpose on two wheels. Join me as we chase peace, love, and that presence we can feel—but not always explain.

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The moment you restore an old motorcycle, you're not just fixing a machine—you're preserving history, creating art, and joining a global community of kindred spirits. This truth resonates powerfully throughout my conversation with Chris Tope, the visionary builder behind Utopeia Moto Company. That's right, uTOPEia. Get it???

Chris's journey from Richardson, Texas to the mountains of West Virginia reveals how motorcycles can become the thread connecting seemingly disparate lives. His passion began at 14 with a neglected Yamaha moped from an abandoned storage unit, which he lovingly restored while dreaming of impressing girls (despite it being a single-seater). This early mechanical education blossomed into a lifelong dedication to rescuing forgotten motorcycles—particularly two-strokes like Hodakas, Pentons, and other brands that have largely vanished from America's roads and trails.

What makes Chris's work truly exceptional is his integration of natural elements reflecting his background as a biologist. Each build features thoughtful details like epoxy resin grips, gemstone accents, paint schemes inspired by butterfly wings, and his signature "hobo coin" tribute. "I try to make the coolest two-strokes in the industry," he explains, focusing on models overlooked by mainstream builders. This approach has earned him invitations to prestigious shows from Portland to Austin, allowing him to connect with luminaries including DGR founder Mark Hawwa and musician/motorcycle enthusiast Lyle Lovett.

Perhaps most inspiring is how Chris transformed his passion into community service. Discovering West Virginia lacked a Distinguished Gentleman's Ride, he founded one in his small town of Fayetteville (population 3,000), growing from 25 riders to 46 and raising $25,000 for men's health causes. He also established the annual "Utopeia Give Back Giveaway," distributing $10,000 in donated motorcycle gear to community members during the winter months when riding spirits often need lifting. Connect with Chris on Instagram at Utopeia Moto Company to see his remarkable creations and perhaps commission your own piece of motorcycle artistry—though with twin nine-month-old boys at home and a biology career, he limits himself to about one custom build annually.

https://www.instagram.com/utopeia_moto_company/

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063995115243

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Some announcements carry more weight than others, and this one comes straight from the heart. Peace Love Moto is now officially sponsoring two remarkable Northern Colorado nonprofits that embody the spirit of joy, healing, and community connection.

The Carousel of Happiness in Nederland stands as a testament to resilience and wonder. My friend Scott Harrison, a Vietnam veteran who found solace in a tiny music box during combat, dedicated 26 years to hand-carving 56 magnificent animals. These creatures now bring joy to visitors from around the world as they ride the restored 1910 carousel to the melodies of a century-old Wurlitzer band organ. It's a place where joy isn't just an emotion – it's a tangible presence, carefully crafted and freely shared.

Just minutes from my home, Hearts and Horses offers another kind of healing magic. This therapeutic riding center serves children with disabilities, veterans battling PTSD, and individuals with dementia through equine-assisted therapy. With approximately 30 horses and a dedicated team of professionals and volunteers, they create safe spaces where physical and emotional healing blossoms through the unique bond between humans and horses.

These initiatives have awakened something profound in me – a calling to create more meaningful connections with you, my listeners. While I may record this podcast from my son's former bedroom in Loveland, the feedback I receive suggests many of you crave authentic experiences: riding Colorado's back roads, witnessing nature's magnificence, and meeting extraordinary people making a difference in our world. I'm actively exploring ways we might connect beyond these audio episodes – perhaps through shared motorcycle journeys where together we can seek that elusive peace of mind we all desire. The path forward isn't entirely clear yet, but the destination feels right – finding joy, purpose, and connection in an increasingly disconnected world. Stay tuned as this vision takes shape.

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Discover the surprising power of slowing down in a world obsessed with speed. While anyone can twist a throttle and go fast, the true art of motorcycling—and living—reveals itself when we master the delicate balance of going slow.

Riding at a crawl demands exceptional skill and mindful awareness. That perfect balance point where you can come to a complete stop at a stop sign, then moving forward again, all without putting your foot down? It requires practice, patience, and presence. This mastery on two wheels mirrors the challenge we face in our daily lives: not just slowing down from frantic to a bit slower, but achieving genuine presence and intentional movement.

Next time you're riding, find a quiet stretch of road and practice the art of going slow. Feel your breathing align with your movement. Notice how your awareness sharpens when you're not rushing. Experience what it means to ride like you're "meditating on two wheels." This mindful approach to motorcycling doesn't just make you a better rider—it connects you to that peaceful, easy feeling we're all seeking on the road and in life. After all, true mastery isn't found in how fast you can go, but in how present you can be at any speed.

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Remember Arthur "Fonzie" Fonzarelli? That leather-jacketed, motorcycle-riding tough guy from Happy Days who could start a jukebox with a tap of his elbow and had girls flocking to him with a snap of his fingers? Beyond the coolness factor, Fonzie represents something profound for motorcycle riders.

The beauty of Fonzie's character lies in what's underneath. On the surface, he was the classic biker stereotype—independent, slightly dangerous, utterly self-assured on his Triumph. Yet beneath that tough exterior beat a heart of pure gold. He was fiercely loyal to the Cunningham family, offered surprisingly profound advice to Richie and friends, and consistently used his influence to protect rather than intimidate. Fonzie showed us that true strength isn't about dominating others but lifting them up.

As motorcyclists, we can learn valuable lessons from this cultural icon. Fonzie taught us that appearances can be deceiving, that you can be strong while still showing vulnerability, and that authentic kindness never diminishes your cool factor. His character reminds us that when we're out on the open road, we carry more than just our bikes—we carry the opportunity to break stereotypes and demonstrate that riders can embody both toughness and tenderness. In a world that often judges books by their covers, Fonzie showed that the most rebellious thing might just be having the courage to be kind. So the next time you're suited up for a ride, remember the Fonz—and consider how you might bring a little more peace and love to the roads you travel.

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Mark Hawwa's compassionate vision became the Distinguished Gentleman's Ride, a global motorcycle event that raises awareness and vital funds for men's health, focusing on suicide prevention and prostate cancer research. Growing up with immigrant parents who instilled values of service and compassion, Mark explains how these principles became the foundation for the DGR. What began as a way to challenge negative stereotypes about motorcyclists has evolved into something far more profound – a safe space where men can openly discuss health challenges that were once considered taboo. As Mark poignantly shares, "We're making it easier for guys to be comfortable in their own skin, more comfortable to talk about mental health, and more comfortable to reach out for support."

The conversation takes us through the evolution of the movement, including the launch of the Distinguished Gentleman's Drive for classic car enthusiasts and the logistical challenges of coordinating events across diverse international jurisdictions. Mark's initial concerns about sustainability have proven unfounded as participation continues to grow stronger each year, demonstrating the power of bringing people together around shared passions while serving a greater good. His candid reflections reveal both the tremendous work behind the scenes and the unexpected ways the movement has touched lives worldwide. Whether you're a longtime participant or new to the DGR community, this episode provides profound insights into how motorcycles, style, and compassion are creating lasting change in men's health awareness globally.

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For years, I'd listened to my parents—now in their 90s—share stories about their brief time in California during the 1950s when my father was drafted for basic training. As a young Texas couple who had barely left their small hometown, their journey to the Pacific coast represented both a frightening challenge and an incredible adventure. Though I could have flown and reached my destination in hours, I knew that experiencing this meaningful place required the unfiltered perspective that only motorcycle travel provides.

If you're fortunate enough to own a motorcycle, you possess not just a vehicle but a gateway to experiences that can't be replicated any other way. The open road awaits with both its challenges and rewards. When you return, you'll carry not just memories of places visited, but of conversations had, kindnesses exchanged, and a deeper understanding of both the world around you and your place within it. What journey are you putting off that might change how you see everything?

Keywords: Motorcycle travel, Fort Ord, solo road trip, family history, California coast, veteran stories, American West, motorcycle adventure, spiritual journey, podcast storytelling

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There’s something very special about that quiet time before the ride—when the map’s still folded, the bike’s waiting, and your heart’s just starting to lean toward whatever you may find down the road. That’s when the journey really begins.

In this episode, we get into the soul of trip planning—not just the “where,” but the deeper “why.” Are you riding to shake loose the dust of everyday life? To chase a dream route that’s lived in your head for years? Or maybe to feel that kind of freedom you only get when it’s just you, the bike, and the open road. Whatever it is, let that purpose guide your plans. It’ll shape your ride in ways a GPS never could.

We’ll also talk practical prep—because a well-loved motorcycle deserves some love before the adventure. Do your maintenance early. Take her out for a shakedown ride. Pack with purpose: layers, tools, tape, and those little things that become lifesavers when you're miles from the nearest town. Think of your route like jazz—lay down the structure, but leave space for improvisation. Rest days matter. Getting lost can be beautiful. And yes, stop for that homemade pie.

Whether you’re riding solo or with your crew, planning isn’t about controlling the ride—it’s about creating space to be present. To wave at a kid in the back seat. To pull over for a view that stops your breath. To feel the road not just under your tires, but in your soul.

I'd love to hear what you’re planning and why you ride. Drop me a line at ron@peacelovemoto.com

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