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When I rode the Pony Express Relay for the Susan G. Komen Foundation in 2003, I had no idea where it would go. I had just bought my new Harley-Davidson Deuce in Henderson, Nevada, and rode her into California across the Mojave Desert. I planned to ride the relay solo in a group. Now that may sound odd, but I think a lot of you have ridden that way, too. You see, I have ridden motorcycles since I was very young, but I had never ridden in a run or a pack formation. I liked it that way; I was in control of my ride.
The Pony Express changed all that. I met women who were experienced not only in riding with groups, but also in leading groups. I started my ride in the back because I was on a new bike and wanted to take it easy. We had rest stops about every 100 miles or so and I got to meet some of my fellow riders. One of the first people I met was Gramps, National Liaison for Sisters of Scota Womens Motorcycle Club. It was obvious by her faded vest with the heart and wings “cut” that Gramps had been riding a long time. She was breaking in a new bike, too, and took to riding in the back of the pack with me. We became fast friends.
When she described the sisterhood to me it was as if she was talking about her family. The experienced riders took care of the newer ones showing them correct pack formation and signaling. Respect was always key; no one ever became experienced without first being new themselves.
After assessing my riding, Gramps was ready to challenge me and we moved to the middle of the pack. Through the twisties of Topanga Canyon in Southern California we got into single file. I was flying. This was not unlike the foothills I love to ride at home, but quite different to ride with speed in a large group. By the end of the ride, I was in the front of our pack with Gramps and Sister Boomer leading the way.
I had an awesome riding experience, but what made it unforgettable was meeting the survivors and hearing their stories. It seems that once you survive breast cancer, you have the ability to try anything. A survivor from Texas bought a Yamaha V Star and rode the entire way from Seattle to San Diego. It was her very first time on a motorcycle. Amazing!
After four days, I was hooked on group riding. Gramps left me a contact number and shortly thereafter I joined the Sisters of Scota WMC. Now I am a biker and speak of the sisterhood as my family. Many rides, runs, parades and charity events later, I dont see why I didnt join sooner. It is not like riding in a group of unfamiliar motorcyclists. We take care of each other. We know our strengths and weaknesses and adjust the pack accordingly.
We take turns holding elected officer positions as our founder Grumbles guides the direction of the sisterhood. We range in age from 20s to 50s and are spread across four southwest states. We visit each others homes as stopover points on long rides, much nicer than any hotel. Most importantly, we are in for life. That means whether I can ride or not, I will always be a sister, comforting thought as I look towards my golden years. But until that day comes, I will continue to ride hard solo and with my family, the Sisters of Scota WMC.
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