Ladies up Front is a column by and for the women who ride in Colorado both on back and up front. Each month we publish an article written by a lady rider. You will find stories of how these ladies ended up
where they are today, with their opinions, strange and funny things that
have happened to them, their thoughts, dreams and points of view.
Some tell the stories about their journey from the back to the front.
Some relate how they came to motorcycles, some are just interesting
experiences they have had.
We believe that every woman who rides, be it on the front or on the
back, has a story to tell that is worth hearing.
When they share their perceptions and knowledge, they often have
insight and perspectives that can help us all as we journey forward.
Here you will see those experiences and hear of the strength and joy
we have found on motorcycles.
All ladies are welcome and encouraged to join in and contribute to Ladies
up Front. Please contact us at: ladiesupfront@thunderroadscolorado.com
last summer. After the divorce, I
moved to Colorado Springs and
met a soldier from Fort Carson; he
became a great friend and talked
me into getting my permit so that
I could ride his bike legally. Since
he entrusted me with his bike
when he was away or otherwise
unavailable to ride, I rode as much
as I could—mountains, prairie and
city, to get all of the experience I
could. His bike was a 750cc Honda
Nighthawk with a very heavy front
end. During the motor vehicle test,
he said, I would not be allowed to
put my feet down, so I prepared
for the challenge with weeks of
practice in a nearby parking lot.
When it seemed perfect, I knew it
was time I went and took the test
and I finally had my own motorcycle
license. So, of course, I had to get
my own bike.
Silver
My first experiences with twowheeled vehicles and motorcycles
were as a passenger on my
father’s “rabbit scooter,” later on
a high school friend’s motorcycle,
and later yet on my husband’s
(now ex-husband’s) dirt bike.
When I was a passenger, it gave
me an amazing feeling of freedom
and it was my ex-husband who
suggested I would enjoy learning
how to ride a motorcycle by
myself. I was twenty at the time
and this was this was when
women riders were few and far
between, so teaching me how
to ride was a somewhat radical
thing to do; I said “Hell, yes!” and
we soon had my first lesson.
The first lesson with my ex-husband started at the South
40 bar in Elbert on a 250cc Suzuki dirt bike. He took
me down a side street, demonstrating and explaining the
gears and clutch then circled back to the bar. It was now
my turn. I was as nervous as a cat in a room full of dogs
and with my ex holding the clutch and his friend holding
the throttle, I presumed, to keep the bike from falling. The
engine roared, the clutch popped and I held on. It was as
if I had been riding all of my life. After that, I rode every
chance I got.
Later, he introduced me a much larger 400cc Yamaha.
When I hit the throttle the first time on that bike, it reared
up nearly scaring the tar out of me, and once again, I
held on. I became familiar with nearly all of the dirt roads
around Elizabeth--even though I did not yet have a
motorcycle license.
While he and I did get divorced, we are still friends and
we even rode together with my son when I visited Seattle
24 Thunder Roads Magazine® Colorado
At that point,
I was a single mom without the
necessary funds, but I did have a grandfather clock valued
at $3000.00 and I was able to barter for a 900cc Honda.
Oh, the adventures that followed—through all the seasons
of the year, helping me to discover that hail really hurts a
lot. I have also had the pouring rain during a trip to Vegas
in July. During this trip I was heading west on I-70 near the
Eisenhower tunnel and after I wiped rain off my helmet, I
shifted down, and noticed that my bike wasn’t moving. After
I lifted my helmet and looked down I saw that snow and ice
had taken the place of the rain. Fortunately I got some help
that day once I got the bike to the side of the road and called
my sister to my rescue. She came with a truck and hauled
me back to Colorado Springs.
Most of the time, I rode streamlined racing bikes and I got
good enough that I would touch the buddy peg to the ground
when cornering and I even felt comfortable handling a bike
like that. Unfortunately, I was in a thirteen car accident in 1999
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