Ronnie Romance
Friends in the field
October 15, 2024
Friends in the field
October 15, 2024
Ronnie, Ron, Ultra Romance… whatever you call him, he is hard to miss. Between the vintage bikes, bushy beard, short shorts, and thick sweaters, his romantic and self-governed life is indicative of simpler times. We spent the day chasing Mr. Romance around Lyme, Connecticut – the Capital of “Nutmeg Country” – to see if we could taste the freedom he so eloquently speaks of…
Can you tell us a little bit about your earliest experiences on the bike? Did you know from an early age that you wanted it to be a part of your life long-term?
I grew up in a small town where you could get anywhere you wanted on a bike. So, from an early age (like most kids of my generation) it was the ticket to latch-key freedom. I would ride to school with my friends each morning, and then hit the trails on our way home. It was the early 90s, and the first mountain biking boom in the US was in full swing. The aspirations for the cool boutique parts in the magazines, and emulating the neon clad dirt heroes within the pages consumed my brain. I couldn’t focus in school — too busy thinking about riding. So yes, I think I knew from about age 12 that this was going to be my life.
We understand you’ve lived in several places across the USA, but what is it about Connecticut’s “Nutmeg Country” that brought you home?
I never thought I’d end up back here, but family has a way of drawing you back in… I don’t think we’d be here if it weren’t for the pandemic encouraging us to settle down from our life on the road, but I can’t complain. Both my partner Tenzin’s family and mine live nearby, and we found a dreamy old farmstead to put roots down in. I am reminded every time I point my tires out of the driveway how good I have it with the timeless beauty of the roads, trails, and architecture in our quiet corner of the historic Connecticut river valley. We still get out for a few months of the year, but home really feels like home these days.
How do you feel the aesthetic and culture of New England has impacted the way you view cycling and bicycles themselves (in the context of hyper-technical biking trends)?
Good question. There is certainly a correlation between architecture that is intentionally built to withstand the sands of time and the way myself and others in our area approach our bicycle builds. It is a Yankee (New England local) cultural indicator to repair over replace, and this adage is evident nearly everywhere you look around here. The hyper technical stuff just stands out like a sore thumb when the backdrop is a ribbon of a farm road lined with rubbly stone walls (Connecticut has over 100,000 miles of stone walls).
Early morning coffee
Early morning coffee
Can you tell us a little bit about your earliest experiences on the bike? Did you know from an early age that you wanted it to be a part of your life long-term?
I grew up in a small town where you could get anywhere you wanted on a bike. So, from an early age (like most kids of my generation) it was the ticket to latch-key freedom. I would ride to school with my friends each morning, and then hit the trails on our way home. It was the early 90s, and the first mountain biking boom in the US was in full swing. The aspirations for the cool boutique parts in the magazines, and emulating the neon clad dirt heroes within the pages consumed my brain. I couldn’t focus in school — too busy thinking about riding. So yes, I think I knew from about age 12 that this was going to be my life.
We understand you’ve lived in several places across the USA, but what is it about Connecticut’s “Nutmeg Country” that brought you home?
I never thought I’d end up back here, but family has a way of drawing you back in… I don’t think we’d be here if it weren’t for the pandemic encouraging us to settle down from our life on the road, but I can’t complain. Both my partner Tenzin’s family and mine live nearby, and we found a dreamy old farmstead to put roots down in. I am reminded every time I point my tires out of the driveway how good I have it with the timeless beauty of the roads, trails, and architecture in our quiet corner of the historic Connecticut river valley. We still get out for a few months of the year, but home really feels like home these days.
How do you feel the aesthetic and culture of New England has impacted the way you view cycling and bicycles themselves (in the context of hyper-technical biking trends)?
Good question. There is certainly a correlation between architecture that is intentionally built to withstand the sands of time and the way myself and others in our area approach our bicycle builds. It is a Yankee (New England local) cultural indicator to repair over replace, and this adage is evident nearly everywhere you look around here. The hyper technical stuff just stands out like a sore thumb when the backdrop is a ribbon of a farm road lined with rubbly stone walls (Connecticut has over 100,000 miles of stone walls).
