My definition of romance includes solitude. That’s why I consider a “romantic dinner” at a restaurant an oxy-moron and that most likely explains why I have never been to a restaurant to celebrate Valentine’s.
Being surrounded by hundreds of peoples, noise, waiters interrupting my thoughts and conversation is not my idea of romantic. Just because the lights are dimmed low, a candle (if you are lucky a real candle) is centered on your table next to an overpriced bottle of wine, doesn’t equate romance for me. But you know where I am guaranteed romance? On my motorcycle!
When it is just you and the one you love on an empty road, that’s romance. When you stop in the middle of nowhere and enjoy the solitude and each other, that’s romance. When you ride your motorcycle to Saint Augustine and spend the weekend at a bed and breakfast, that’s romance.
I don’t know about you, but I love quiet. Anny and I are both loners and enjoy the company of each other more than anything else. Include our pets and that is a bonus. But looking back at all the moments in time where I thought I was being romantic, it took a motorcycle for me realize not really since I was using society’s definition of what romantic is.
Sure, I’m biased when it comes to motorcycle riding, but I’ve owned convertibles before and riding on a desolate road with the full moon above was cool, fun even, but not romantic. Replace those four wheels with two, and trust me your perspective will change as well.
Ever hear someone say “I’ve always dreamed of riding my SUV cross-country?” Not really. What about “I’ve always dreamed of riding a motorcycle cross-country?” Yup! That includes people that have never even ridden a motorcycle.
When’s your next romantic ride? Write it up and I’ll include it in our Reader’s Stories section.