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When people ask me how I started riding, I answer, “A sheer determination to ride and I was pissed off.” Growing up, I had never been around a motorcycle. I was known as a responsible, nice, sweet girl. I was also a girl scared of most everything. Then, I met a biker guy. He was free-spirited, and not afraid of anything. He took me on my first ride and I fell in love with riding.

I can tell you the exact moment in time when I fell in love with motorcycles and the bad boys who ride them. I was a young girl growing up in rural Wisconsin and we didnt have much to do in the way of entertainment except playing outside, annoying our siblings and watching our favorite programs on TV. On Tuesday evenings I would go over to the neighbors house (they had a big floor model TV) and we would watch Threes Company, Laverne Shirley and my all-time favorite Happy Days.

When a woman becomes a biker, she undergoes a change in her way of thinking. Reading numerous bottles of shampoo, wrinkle creams and many fashion magazines has taught us to speak in a seemingly foreign language to many men. However, when a woman becomes a biker it begins to bridge the communication gap between the sexes.

I hadnt given much thought to motorcycles. My dad owned a couple when I was small and my mother was terrified of them so I wasnt allowed on them. My dad died a few years back and my travels led me to see more and more iron horses on the roadways. The sound of one approaching would remind me of my dad and I begin to notice how beautiful each one was and how those straddling them seemed to know some joy I didnt.