Are You Too Old to Ride or Go Motocamping?
We’re having fabulous weather this week in southern California, south Nevada, and western Arizona.
I couldn’t let it go to waste, so I took the CVO ST out for a quick rip around Spirit Mountain, just behind Laughlin, Nevada.
You go through Arizona, California, and Nevada on this quick hour or so ride circumnavigating the mountain. It’s a fun ride with giant sweepers and gully transitions that can make the road feel like your own personal roller coaster.
Anyway, something funny happened to me the other day that I thought I’d share and then give my take on how I feel about it.
Aren’t you a bit old to be doing that?
So I was making coffee at my campsite after waking to a brisk 36-degree morning.
There was a nice Canadian couple at the site next to me. I’d met the husband and their dog the night before—and Peanut was happy to have someone his own size to play with for a while.
Anyway, the wife is returning from the dog park with their pup and shoots at me, “Hey, aren’t you a bit old to be doing that?”
I didn’t know exactly what she was talking about. Did she mean too old to be tent camping, too old to be riding, or both?
I just gave her a toast with my hot cup of Joe and went on about my business.
Anyway, on my ride home, I started thinking about the Canadian woman’s comment and decided I’d share my thoughts on the subject of
Why Motorcycle Camping Keeps You Young
We all know that aging is inevitable, but how we age is largely up to us. Some people slow down, settle in, and let life pass them by. Others keep moving, exploring, and embracing adventure.
My parents were a perfect example of this contrast.
A Tale of Two Paths
My mom and dad divorced when I was 28. Afterward, their lives took very different courses.
My dad stayed active—working in the garden, tinkering in his workshop, always finding something to do.
My mom, on the other hand, became more sedentary. She spent more time indoors and less engaged with the world around her.
She passed away at 80. My dad? He’s still going strong at 97, although he did have a fall last year. The last handful of years of my mom’s life were the hardest. She slipped away into dementia, a slow, painful fade from the vibrant person she once was.
Watching that happen shook me. And it planted a fear deep in my gut: What if that happens to me?
That’s one of the biggest reasons I keep moving, riding, wrenching, and camping.
The Pure Joy of Riding
To me, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being on a motorcycle. It’s exhilarating. It’s immersive.
As a younger man, I had the opportunity to take glider lessons, which, to my mind, is the purest form of flying.
Motorcycling is about the closest you can get to flying a glider while still being on the ground.
Like flying, riding requires 360-degree situational awareness. You’re constantly scanning the road, reading traffic, feeling the wind, taking in the smells, and anticipating what’s ahead. You’re engaged in a way that few other activities demand.
There’s no autopilot on a motorcycle. When you stop being an active rider, that’s when bad things are most likely to happen.
Even with the focus required to ride safely, it becomes a form of meditation. It clears the mind, sharpens the senses, and keeps you completely present in the moment.
And that, I believe, is one of the most powerful tools we have for maintaining good mental health as we age.
Movement is Life
With the variety of entertainment online now, not to mention big screen TVs, it would be all too easy to simply sit down, turn on, and take in other people’s adventures. Trust me, I know because I did a lot of that during the pandemic.
But it’s not the same.
Whether it’s gardening, working in the garage, riding a motorcycle, or camping, movement keeps the body and mind strong. I find that motorcycle camping offers a balanced combination of physical activity and mental engagement—it requires planning, navigation, setting up camp, and, of course, riding.
Speaking of riding—its easy to think of riding as being a mostly a passive activity, like driving a car. It isn’t.
There’s a good amount of physical exercise in riding. Getting the bike off of its kickstand or center stand takes a measure of effort. Every time you come to a stop you put your feet down and hold up the bike from falling. The front brake and clutch levers exercise your hands. Riding mountain roads requires physical input to get the bike to glide through the twists and turns.
I’m not sure how to measure it, but a 400-mile ride burns a bunch of calories. I know, because I’m starving after that many miles.
Eating Well on the Road
Over the past five years, I put on some weight. It happens. Life gets busy, habits shift, and before you know it, you’re carrying around more than just your gear.
I will also admit to indulging in too many pub rides for a good burger, basket of wings, or a Philly cheese steak.
Getting back into motorcycle camping has helped me turn that around. Don’t get me wrong. I still enjoy a good burger, but I’m cooking them at home or over my campfire.
One of the things I focus on with Ride to Camp is cooking real, whole food while on the road instead of grabbing fast food or eating at a pub or the nearest restaurant.
Not only does it save money, but it also fuels the body in a way that processed food never can.
When I camp, I cook. Simple, healthy meals that give me the energy to keep riding, hiking, and exploring.
And the more I ride and camp and get away from the Lazy Boy and TV, the more the weight comes off—not through some extreme diet, but by living the kind of active, adventurous life I want to live.
Adventure Keeps the Mind Sharp
My dad retired from the Navy at age 40 and never went back to work. He bought property out in the foothills of San Diego and moved us out of the city to enjoy a simple life.
After building the family home and creating the gardens, he always had a project to work on, something to look forward to.
For me, that same principle applies to motorcycle camping. Every trip is an opportunity to learn, solve problems, and experience something new.
You have to think ahead, adjust to changing conditions, and embrace the unexpected—all of which keep the brain sharp.
I don’t know if staying engaged and active will prevent dementia like my mom had, but I do know this: sitting still won’t help.
The Outdoors is Good for the Soul
I think back to my dad, working on his small ranch, breathing in the fresh air, and feeling the sun on his face.
That’s what motorcycle travel and camping gives me—time outside, away from screens and distractions, connected to nature.
It’s a reminder that we’re part of something bigger and a way for my soul to connect with who I am.
Independence and Freedom
One of the hardest parts of aging is feeling like your world is getting smaller. Like things are being taken from you.
I find that motorcycling, touring, and camping push back on that. It gives you the freedom to explore, to set your own schedule, and to go wherever the road takes you. You’re never too old to discover a new favorite campsite or ride a road you’ve never taken before.
And, so long as you can hold your bike up and work the controls with ease, you’re not too old to ride, camp, and go on adventures.
Staying Social and Connected
I’d like to say that my dad never let himself become isolated—but he did. And I carry some of his bad habit of being a bit of a loner and overly enjoy time to myself.
Motorcycle camping offers both alone time and social connection. Whether it’s chatting with other campers, meeting fellow riders on the road, or sharing stories around a campfire, it keeps you engaged with the world, while also giving you free time inside your helmet.
As much as I enjoy solitude, staying engaged is one of the best ways to keep the mind from slipping away.
A Minimalist, Stress-Free Lifestyle
As I get older, I find myself drawn to a less complicated life—packing light, traveling with only what I need, and focusing on experiences rather than things, making life more enjoyable.
And, although I’m guilty of overpacking at times, motorcycle camping forces you to strip away the unnecessary and appreciate the essentials.
It’s Never Too Late
If there’s one thing my dad has taught me, it’s that you don’t stop moving just because you’ve hit a certain age. You stop moving, and then you age. So whether you’re 40, 65, or 80, there’s no reason you can’t throw a tent and a sleeping bag on the back of your bike and hit the road.
Final Thoughts
Watching my parents age so differently showed me firsthand the power of staying active and engaged. I want to be like my dad—still going, still moving, still living at 97. And more than anything, I don’t want to slip away into dementia like my mom. That fear is real, but so is the fight against it.
So I ride. I camp. I explore. I cook. And with every mile, every meal, and every sunrise over a new campsite, I remind myself that life is meant to be lived.
What about you? What keeps you going? Let’s talk in the comments.
