Three Degrees ’til Breakfast

We like to start our weekends with a sense of adventure, and go out for breakfast to distant locales, eschewing nearby big chain restaurants with their homogenized, cookie cutter offerings. For added adventure when the weather is nice, we take the motorcycle. Nice is the operative word here, and my wife who acquiesces to my desire to “take the bike,” imposed some guidelines.

“Fifty degrees is the minimum,” she says.

In the spring and early summer months, mornings can be a little cool and waiting for fifty degrees sometimes takes what feels like an eternity, and I wait with all the patience of a caged animal watching for the deck thermometer to hit that magic number. I feign irritation here, but my wife has been quite a trooper on our previous cross country trips where we’ve encountered the “adventures” of temperatures of 112 degrees, as well those with several days of rain.

Although those trips were uncomfortable at times, her complaining was usually less than mine, and we’ve continued to enjoy the exhilaration and unfettered feel of the bike on our breakfast runs and day trips.

In addition to going to non-chain places and smaller cafes in the surrounding towns, the adventure of seeking and finding the perfectly cooked, crunchy and moist country fried steak enhances the discovery aspect of our breakfast runs, as well as the opportunity to live “on the edge” and have a meal that departs from our sensible week day fare of the low-fat-high-fiber-no fun variety.

When we go to these small towns, we’re usually noticed as the adventurers we feel like, and people always greet us with friendly comments such as, “Hey, nice bike,” “Great day for a ride,” and “Where y’all off to?” Not so much when we take the SUV.

Our travels have taken us to places with exotic menu items where we discovered the perfect marriage of flavors of crispy fried chicken followed by the sweetness of waffles and maple syrup. At small soul food cafes, we’ve had eggs, grits with ¼ stick of melted butter and ½ inch thick fried bologna. And, at one of our favorite little places “in the country,” we’ve delighted in the difficult choices involved in deciding between 20 different kinds of pie. The guilty pleasure and fulfillment of pie with 6 inches of meringue on top after a chilly motorcycle ride and a big country breakfast puts a smile on your face that lasts well into the dinner hour.

We continue to look for new places to explore together, and the waiting and anticipation only heighten the appreciation. In the grand scheme of things, it’s really immaterial if you take a motorcycle or a car, or even if you go out for breakfast. Adventures are hard to find these days, and in many cases the only barriers are just a matter of a few miles out of your comfort zone.

Or, a few degrees.


People also view

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *