Bike date

Ah, the art of the perfect bike date. Let’s dive in, shall we? First things first, pick a spot that’s so under the radar it’s practically in witness protection. I’m talking about those charming, obscure rural towns in Montana with names that sound like they belong more in a New York borough than out West—Manhattan, for instance. You can check it out here: Town of Manhattan. This way, if the date tanks, it’ll fade into oblivion faster than my New Year’s resolutions.

Next up, hunt down the shortest bike path you can find that leads to a river. It’s all about the journey, or lack thereof, in this case. Once you’ve arrived, find the most unremarkably bland spot to plant yourselves. The kind of place that’s so dull, you’ll have nothing to do but actually talk to each other—imagine that!

After soaking in the mediocrity, it’s time to pedal back to civilization. This is where it gets fun. Get yourselves hopelessly lost on a dirt road, dodging what I can only describe as unnervingly enthusiastic doves. Just as you’re contemplating your life choices, along comes a woman straight out of “Little House on the Prairie,” giving you both such a fright that any thoughts of a goodnight kiss are banished to the realm of “maybe next time.”

And just like that, you’re both speeding off into the sunset, or more accurately, away from it, each silently thanking the other for a memorable, if not entirely conventional, adventure.