Lessons from the Farm, Lessons for the Ride

His name was Oliver. He was a successful Harvard-educated attorney in New York City, but over time he became, I don't know, disillusioned Maybe that's the right word Disillusioned by the hustle and bustle of the city life. Instead, he longed for the simplicity and independence of rural living. He dreamed of leaving behind the urban life and becoming a farmer. So one day, against the wishes of his glamorous and materialistic wife Lisa, oliver bought a dilapidated farm in a small town where he embraced the role of a farmer. His dream had come true. There, in the little farm town called Hooterville, oliver Wendell Douglas was changed forever. And some of you are saying wait a minute, that's the old TV show Green Acres. That's right, you got me. But maybe it's just a fantasy dream by those of us who grew up in the city. You know, I grew up in a small town, but it was not farm town at all. I don't know, maybe real farmers and ranchers envy our lives in town, but I doubt that Today we're diving into the unexpected connection, one that links the steady, time-honored wisdom of a farmer with the freedom-seeking spirit of a motorcycle rider. Yeah, it's easy to romanticize rural life, much like Oliver Wendell Douglas did in Green Acres, but behind the charm of a farm life lies a deep understanding of machines, a required resilience to keep going no matter what, and an unshakable respect for Mother Nature. Let's talk about it. Thank you for joining me today. Recorded in beautiful Loveland, 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?

Ron: 2:38

How many of us feel, I don't know, weird or at least discouraged, when we think about how many hours we spend in front of a computer screen and how many hours we've spent in front of this tiny little screen in our hand that we also call a phone. Unimaginable, how many hours we have spent. I can't complain, though. I mean, I've made a good living in front of a computer screen, and sometimes well, yeah, sometimes I just think about what are my grandchildren going to think of me from when they look back at whatever age and when we're not staring at screens anymore, I hope and they look back at us on how many years and years we spent staring at the phone or staring at the computer screen, when there's a real outdoors going on out there, where there are sunrises and sunsets and birds are singing outside, all the time we're inside staring at a screen. I don't know, but I was fortunate enough to know my grandparents on my mother's side especially knew them well. My grandparents taught me what it means to be a farmer. My grandfather he was known as Buddy, but my cousin and I we called him Papa.

Ron: 3:53

Papa was the one who taught my cousin Randall and I how to drive. He taught us on the same day. I was maybe 10 or 11 years old and my cousin Randall was about a year younger. I'll never forget that day and that pickup truck. I believe it was a 1966 Chevrolet C10. It had a three-speed manual transmission.

Ron: 4:14

At 10 and 11, my cousin and I were in no position to learn how to drive. We couldn't get in position because we weren't tall enough, but we made it work. We could barely see over the dash, but Papa God bless him he felt compelled to teach his grandsons how to drive, and so he did. We rode together out into a field where there were no fences and no trees. Papa got out of the truck, moved the seat as far forward as it would go and he said to us don't run over anything. And that was our instructions. And we said to us don't run over anything and that was our instructions and we didn't, we didn't. I don't think we even stalled the truck very many times.

Ron: 4:57

Anyway, my cousin already grew up on a farm and he had, of course, many experiences with machinery that I hadn't yet had. I just got my first mini bike, but beyond that I didn't know a lot about machinery. But we learned, we learned really well. We also learned from my grandmother, nettie May, who we called Mimaw, and like my grandfather, nettie May was extremely good with machinery and she could drive just any of the same equipment that the men could. Together, as farmers, their world revolved around early mornings, a big breakfast made from scratch by my grandmother and an unwavering commitment to their land and to their machines. Needless to say, their world wasn't about constantly being in front of a screen, as we are today. Not at all. It was about being hands-on. It was about faith, it's about courage and it's about knowing what you're doing.

Ron: 6:04

A farmer's livelihood depends on the reliability of the machines the tractors, the planters, the combine, the cotton stripper, all those machines. Yeah, that's our livelihood there, right as farmers. If a machine breaks down and you can't fix it, well, just about everything stops. Weeks or maybe even months worth of work can become undone by a single mechanical failure. You've got to take care of the equipment. This is something my grandparents taught me.

Ron: 6:34

Beyond the machines, they also taught me about the unpredictability of Mother Nature. One year they'd make a money-making crop and do quite well. Then the next year they'd be on the brink of losing everything because of weather that just didn't go as planned. It was a reminder that no matter how well we prepare, whether we're farmers or motorcycle riders, mother nature is always in charge. Too much rain, not enough rain, a sudden freeze after a warm spell the unpredicted can change everything in just an instant. And yet, through it all, buddy and Nettie Mae remain steady and strong farmers, holding on to the things that mattered most family resilience, their faith and love for other people. Hopefully, some of that rubbed off.

Ron: 7:38

It's probably safe to say that most of us are not farmers. We don't rise up early in the morning to milk the cows and tend to the crops, but our jobs don't hinge on whether or not the tractor is going to start in the morning. Many of us don't spend much time outdoors. We spend a lot of time indoors, in front of our screens, working a world far removed from the uncertainty of a farm, I suppose. And yet in our garage, something waits for us, a machine of our own that we do depend on. Our motorcycles may not be tied to our income necessarily, but they are tied to something just as important our connection with Mother Nature, our passion, our freedom, our sense of adventure, our mental health, maybe. Like a farmer's tractor, our motorcycles require care, oil changes, tire checks, chain adjustments and lubrication. All these little, small acts of maintenance ensure that when the open road does call, we can answer it without hesitation. I think that we motorcycle riders can learn quite a lot from the lessons of a farmer. Here's just a few things maybe to think about. Respect for the machine.

Ron: 8:54

Farmers depend on their tractors, their plows, all their equipment for their livelihood. They know that proper maintenance is essential for keeping all the tools working, all the machines running, just like the motorcycles that we care for. Taking care of again, the oil changes, the tire inspections and overall upkeep Keep it reliable. A lot of times some of us find ourselves out in the middle of nowhere, and it's not a place to find out that, uh-oh, I should have taken care of something early on, especially when you're in the middle of nowhere where I like to hang out generally. Most likely our hard-earned money was spent on that motorcycle too. It's a gift in the garage. It's something that we should take care of. Farmers know also, no matter how well they prepare, weather and unforeseen changes will disrupt the plans. A sudden drought or early frost can really break up the season, and riders face a similar unpredictability changing road conditions, sudden storms, mechanical issues that require adaptability, to say the least, and a calm that's hard to say. Sometimes. It's definitely hard to act out a calm, problem-solving mindset Again, especially when we're broken down in the middle of nowhere.

Ron: 10:16

Farmers appreciate the outdoors. They spend a lot of their days under the open sky, working in harmony with mother nature and riders too. We experience the world in a way that most people don't. Sitting in their cars, feeling the warmth of the sun or smelling the fresh rain, smelling the fields after that rain, after the hay has been cut, riding to me, immerses me into the natural world, maybe just as farming does. Farmers often rely, too, on a tight-knit community. Most of them reach out to each other for advice, for help, for camaraderie, to have dinner together, motorcycle riders too. We experience a sense of brotherhood or sisterhood out on the road, whether you're out on a group ride or attending a rally or just having a conversation with a stranger at a gas station, riders support and learn from each other, just like farmers do. In the end, whether you're riding a motorcycle or working the land, the lessons are the same Respect your machine, cherish the outdoors, adapt when you have to. But, most importantly maybe, what makes it unique for us? On motorcycles, we just embrace the journey. We just embrace the ride.

Ron: 11:51

Next time I go for a ride, I'm going to try to be extra thoughtful about one thing, about the fact that owning and riding a motorcycle for me was a dream come true, in the same way that Oliver Douglas his dream came true to become a farmer At some point. Even as a little kid, I became a motorcycle rider, and I still am, and I am so grateful for that. I know you are too. As always, thank you so much for listening. I wish you peace. I wish you love the Shores, the Shores, listening. I wish you peace. I wish you love.