Bob Howland Obituary: It is with deep sadness and heartfelt sympathy that we extend our condolences to the family, friends, and loved ones of Bob Howland, a proud resident of Colorado Springs, Colorado, who passed away at the age of 67. The world lost a true original—someone who lived with spirit, grit, and heart, and who left an indelible mark on all who knew him.
Born and raised in Colorado Springs, Bob was a son of the community through and through. He grew up in familiar places—attending Buena Vista Elementary School, West Junior High, and later Coronado High School—and along the way, he formed friendships that would last a lifetime. Bob’s roots ran deep in the city he called home, and those roots were nurtured by family, adventure, and a lifelong passion for speed, engines, and the open road.
Bob loved motorsports in all forms. Whether it had two wheels or four, dirt under its tires or pavement in front of it—if it roared, raced, or rumbled, Bob was there for it. Motorcycles, though, held a special place in his heart. He was more than just a rider—he was a racer, a road warrior, a man who felt most free when the wind hit his face and the miles disappeared behind him. His life on the road wasn’t just a hobby; it was a lifestyle and a calling.
As a long-time motorcycle rider and racer, Bob was part of a unique and passionate community—a brotherhood bound by the roar of engines and the thrill of the ride. He was someone who appreciated the craftsmanship of a good bike, who knew the details that made a ride smooth, and who could swap stories for hours about road trips, near misses, and wide-open highways. His enthusiasm was infectious, and his knowledge, endless.
But Bob didn’t just live for the thrill—he also worked hard. As an over-the-road truck driver, he logged countless miles delivering goods across the country. He took pride in his work, knowing that he was part of the backbone that kept America moving. His time on the road may have taken him away from home often, but he carried his loved ones with him always, in thought and in spirit. There’s a quiet nobility in that kind of work ethic, in the commitment to providing for those you love by doing what you do best—and Bob did it with integrity and heart.
Beyond his passions and his profession, Bob was, above all, a family man. He is survived by his loving mother, Leoma Howland, whose strength and grace have shaped their entire family. His beloved wife, Brenda Howland, stood by his side and brought joy to his later years, along with her four children—Bob’s stepchildren—whom he welcomed into his life and heart as his own. To them, he was more than a stepfather—he was a guide, a friend, and a grandfather whose stories, laughter, and spirit will echo through generations.
He is also survived by his siblings—Marge Brinkman, Steve Howland, and Mark Howland—each of whom shared with him the experiences of childhood, the bonds of family, and the journey through life. Sibling bonds are among the deepest and most enduring, and the loss of a brother like Bob is felt not only in shared memories but in every quiet moment when you expect to hear his voice or see his smile.
To his grandchildren, Bob was a figure of fun, adventure, and wisdom. Though words may never capture what he meant to them, his legacy lives on in their laughter, their stories, and the twinkle in their eyes that he surely helped inspire. His life wasn’t just about speed and roads—it was about people. About connection. About love.
In moments like these, it’s natural to ask “why?”—to seek meaning in the face of loss. But perhaps the meaning lies in the life Bob lived. He embraced his passions. He showed up for his family. He worked hard. He chased freedom down long roads and open skies. And he left behind a trail of love and memories that will never fade.
For those mourning Bob’s passing, know that your grief is shared. To lose someone who meant so much, who lived life fully and unapologetically, is to lose a piece of your own heart. But we take solace in remembering that death does not erase the love that was given, nor the memories that were made. Bob’s spirit lives on—in every rumble of a motorcycle engine, in every stretch of open highway, and in the hearts of everyone who was lucky enough to know him.
As we reflect on Bob’s life, let us remember the sound of his laugh, the kindness of his heart, the passion he had for the things he loved, and the fierce loyalty he had for his family. Let us honor him not just with tears, but with stories—stories about the man who knew how to fix anything, who lit up when he talked about his next ride, who showed up when you needed him, and who made you feel like you mattered.
To Brenda, Leoma, Marge, Steve, Mark, the stepchildren and grandchildren—you are held in our hearts and our prayers. May you find comfort in one another, and peace in knowing that Bob’s journey, though it has ended here, continues in the next great adventure. He is free now, on roads without end, under skies that never fade. Bob, thank you for the rides, the miles, the memories, and the love. May you rest in eternal peace, and may the road rise to meet you always.
