The Cute Factor

When people think of a woman riding a motorcycle, the first thing that comes to mind is "biker chick."  Visions of leather chaps, fringe, leather halter and tough girl tattoos crop up for most people. I always get asked about my "leathers" and other riding gear. It's hard to explain to non-bikers that there are loads of different types of bikes on the road, several different types of riders and lots of different looks. My Suzuki is a street bike; it's blue and white with a splash of red graphics. It doesn't look tough, or rad, or muscle-like. Actually, it looks kind of ... well... cute. It doesn't have big loud pipes. It purrrs.

I do struggle, however, with the look. I don't actually have a look yet. I want a look. I want a cute look that goes with my cute bike. My Shoei helmet is white, to be seen clearly by others. My  black jacket and pants, both Scorpion, are high quality textile, made for women and very functional. They both come with removeable liners and vents, and the jacket even has a neck muffler for those super cold days. The jacket fits well, but the pants are not the least bit flattering. They are similar to ski gear only worse. Great for riding, but terrible to walk around in when you've reached your destination.

For starters, I'd like some different gear, a red jacket, a flashy helmet, some cool riding boots. This stuff, however, is not cheap, nor is most of it readily available for the woman rider. The selection is limited. At least what I currently have is good quality, safe and comfortable while I'm on the bike. I've considered having my helmet custom painted. How cool would that be? However, the cost would outweigh the cost of helmet itself, which was substantial even in Plain Jane White.

So concentrating on the post ride attire,  I try to wear something presentable underneath my gear so I can remove the layers, don some strappy sandals, shake out the hair and look put together when entering the scene of a party, restaurant or event. So far, I have not accomplished my goal. I make my grand entrances looking disheveled, unfashionable, and sweaty.

I will continue working on this dilemma. I try to take note of what other women are wearing when I'm out riding the ferry and meeting other bikers. Frankly, they sort of look like me. Whether they are the tough biker chicks on their Harley's or the sport bike riders, I can see we all have the same general "I just pulled my head out of a helmet" look.

One thing is for certain. When I'm on the bike, riding the ride, I do not give a rat's booty what I look like!

Ladies Who Ride

There are "ladies who lunch" and then there are "ladies who ride."  I am working on being amongst the second category.  It's been two years since I bought my first motorcycle, a Suzuki GS500F. It's a great first bike. Big enough to withstand a long-ish trip on the highways, but not so big this novice can't handle it.

When I first purchased my bike in 2010, another biker friend suggested I join a local ladies motorcycle group. Wow. What could be more fun and sexy than a group of women riding motorcycles together? I was jazzed and signed right up. Unfortunately, my actual self-confidence was less than my alter-ego biker girl self-confidence and I never could muster up the gumption to sign up for any of the rides. I stalked their website for nearly two years and these girls seemed kind of  advanced and "spirited" to say the least. My shy side, that not many of my pals see, prevented me from taking the plunge. Instead I continued practicing on my own, riding with my boyfriend and just reading about the women's riding group on line.

Recently, one of the rides posted on the women's motorcycle group calendar was labeled "Short Rides for Novice-Eastside Cornering Skills".  That caught my attention. This was a ride for me. It even had the word "novice" right in the title. I scoped out the other women who signed up and confirmed the group was right for me before I registered.

Today was a perfect 80 degree sunshiny day for a ride. After gassing up near my place on Queen Anne and stopping at the bank for some cash, I rode out to Redmond where the group was meeting. Upon entering the empty parking lot, I became only somewhat concerned. My clock said 11.47 and we were supposed to be meeting at noon. I am rarely the first one anywhere. I walked over to Whole Foods for a last chance potty stop and picked up a small snack for the trip. When I returned there was one woman waiting. She also thought maybe she missed the ride when she showed up and no one else was around. She sat upon a Harley Davidson Sportster 1200 and I learned she had all of 200 miles under her belt. This is a fairly big bike, and I gave her kudos for her ambition. The next two women who showed up were the leader and another rider on her Kawasaki Ninja. Ms. Ninja had about the same miles as I did, but I could tell from talking with her that she was a bit more experienced riding on curvy country roads. The majority of my 1900 miles were urban miles.

The other women who had signed up had to bail for various reasons. So after intros were made, the leader gave her spiel about group riding, the rules, the hand signals and what to expect along the ride. Ninja Girl and I were paying close attention and clarifying for understanding. I certainly didn't want to misinterpret the hand signal for U-turn and end up in Tacoma! Sportster Girl, however, was leaning on her bike, her elbow on the handlebar with her fist on her chin looking away completely bored. The leader asked if she was OK and her snippy reply was "I am done with this, I just want to ride!"

We pulled out onto the highway in staggered formation and were on our way, Lead, Ninja Girl, me and then Sportster Girl pulling up the rear. After several curvy miles at a stop light, Sportster girl rode up next to me and said, "I'm not down with this."  Since I hadn't actually seen her behind me for several minutes, I figured she meant the speed of the ride. I said, "just go at your pace."  I didn't know what else to say. I know at 200 miles under my belt, I couldn't have kept up with this group either. Heck at that stage, I was getting passed up by bicyclists on Mercer Island. So I could sympathize.

Once we hit Monroe and pulled over at a check point, Sportster Girl pulled past me and rode up to Lead and laid into her about the speed we were going. Lead, very diplomatically, assured her she was going the speed limit or just slightly over. She did tell us this was her plan during her intro speech. If that seemed unrealistic to Sportster Girl, she could have piped up then. But more than likely, she wasn't listening. Suddenly, Ninja Girl totally jumped down Sportster's throat yelling at her that she was doing nothing but whining all day and had a bad attitude and that she was "sick of it!"

Whoa! What the heck is going on here? Is this why I haven't ridden with this group before? A bunch of hormonal women on bikes?  This doesn't feel fun or sexy at all. My usual Switzerland-Self just hung back on the side-lines and waited for the smoke to clear. Sportster Girl decided not to go any further and took off on her own. Lead, Ninja and I carried on, but Lead wanted me behind her so I could follow her cornering techniques. Great, no stress now after that whole scene. We did take a coffee break and had a chat and when all was calm, we continued onward.

It turned out to be a beautiful ride. The others were very helpful and supportive giving me cornering tips and encouragement. Six and a half hours and 125 miles later (yea, I'm finally over 2000 miles!), I pulled into my usual parking spot on Queen Anne, sweaty and exhausted.

While I did enjoy myself overall and learned a lot from the gals, I have to say, I am not 100% sure if I'll ride with this group again. It's a bit like dating. I might give them one more chance, but if it doesn't feel right, I'm moving on.

Once home and a glass of wine in hand, I called my Kymco Scooter friend to set up a date for a ride to Bainbridge Island in the near future. I know without a doubt that we'll have a great drama free ladies only ride together!