Dennis Joseph Spencer

May 16, 1951 – October 25, 2026

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He may not always have taken the conventional route through life, but he gave his family a lifetime of adventures, lessons, and stories that will never be forgotten.

Dennis Joseph Spencer, 75, passed away on October 25, 2026, in North Ogden, Utah, following a long journey with dementia. Born May 16, 1951, in Richmond, Virginia, to Richard L. and Lucille Murchison Spencer, Dennis went on to live a life that was anything but boring. In fact, boring was probably one of the few things he never managed to be.

Dennis graduated from Weber High School in 1969 and married Colleen Smith on August 18, 1972. Colleen remained by his side for 54 years, which, considering some of his escapades, probably qualifies her for sainthood. Together, they raised two children, accumulated a lifetime of memories, and somehow survived Dennis's particular brand of adventure. They made their home in Roy, Utah, for most of their married life, until he left their home in August 2026.

Dennis spent much of his career in commercial glazing, first starting a glass business with his father and brother and later establishing another with his son. Between those ventures, he tried his hand at landscaping and gold mining. He was a talented and resourceful man who could build or fix just about anything. Whether he should build or fix something was occasionally a different question.

Motorcycles were practically in Dennis's DNA. Growing up among a Spencer family full of dirt bike enthusiasts, he eventually decided that simply riding motorcycles wasn't exciting enough and took up competitive hillclimbing in the early 1970s, racing at the famous Widowmaker. Apparently, riding a motorcycle up a perfectly unreasonable hill seemed like a sensible way to spend a weekend.

Dennis and Colleen enjoyed motorcycle road trips in their younger years, and when their children came along, the adventures continued. The family spent countless hours camping and riding dirt bikes, particularly across the mud flats near the Great Salt Lake. Dennis even once constructed a camper shell out of plywood in a single evening so the family could ride in the back of the pickup without getting rained on. It might not have won any engineering awards, but it got the job done.

Years later, Dennis returned to professional motorcycle hillclimbing alongside his son, who continues to compete today. Along the way, Dennis made friends throughout the hillclimbing community. He could strike up a conversation with absolutely anyone, whether they were interested in talking or not. Fortunately, most people seemed to enjoy it.

Dennis also loved goose hunting, although his fascination with geese extended well beyond hunting season. If a flock flew overhead, whatever conversation was taking place might have to wait while Dennis watched them. Geese had a way of commanding his attention that few other things could.

But perhaps Dennis's most memorable talent was his ability to turn an ordinary day into an event that people would still be discussing decades later.

There was the time he shot his nephew with a bottle rocket, much to the fury of his sister Brenda. There was the memorable fireplace incident when Dennis built a fire so impressive that flames shot out of the chimney and the fire department showed up. Apparently, the fireplace had limits that Dennis felt compelled to test.

His gold-mining years introduced him to dynamite, which he found particularly interesting. Explosives and Dennis were a combination that tended to make life exciting for everyone in the vicinity. And then there was a Wyoming hillclimb camping trip involving beer bottles filled with gasoline and a campfire. Some stories are probably best left with the people who were there.

Even without explosives, Dennis and his nephew had a longstanding tradition of mooing at each other for reasons known only to a few. It was the sort of family joke that required no explanation and probably wouldn't have made much sense if anyone tried.

For all his mischief and adventures, Dennis had a deeply held belief in treating others with kindness and respect. He never tolerated the mistreatment of others and taught his children to treat people as they would want to be treated. He believed in his children, encouraged their education and career ambitions, and was proud of what they accomplished.

Most importantly, Dennis loved his family. Through life's ups and downs, his love for Colleen and their children was never in question. He may not always have taken the conventional route through life, but he gave his family a lifetime of adventures, lessons, and stories that will never be forgotten.

Dennis was preceded in death by his parents, Richard L. and Lucille Murchison Spencer, and his sister, Brenda Gail Brown, who hopefully has forgiven him for the bottle rocket incident by now.

He is survived by his beloved wife of 54 years, Colleen; his daughter, Shauna Spencer, and her husband, Jared Isakson; his son, Dennis Craig Spencer, and his wife, ShaRae; his brother, Donald Spencer; his granddaughters, Xandrii Spencer, Alaina Olsen, Lucy Isakson, and Kenzie Pentz and her husband, Waylen; his grandson, Ryker Rich; and his great-granddaughter, Willow Pentz.

Dennis leaves behind a family who loved him beyond words, friends from near and far, and enough stories to keep everyone entertained for generations.

The motorcycles may be quiet, the campfires a little smaller, and the neighborhood considerably safer, but life will never be quite as interesting without him.

Rest easy, Dennis. You've certainly given us plenty to remember.

No formal services will be held.