30 March 06

Two Books for Female Riders

By Laurie Sherfey

I've meant to write a review on these two books for some time now. The first book, my Airhead (the BMW variety of Airhead) brother sent to me on loan, and the second I bought a long time ago, when I thought I was the only female motorcycle rider in the entire Tidewater area (I've long since discovered that this is totally not the case, though we are certainly still in the minority!).

Looking at the covers of the two books, you wouldn't expect them to have too many similarities. One is very stylized and retro looking and the other looks more like a sales brochure photo for the modern faux-retro female rider. My first preference would be more for The Perfect Vehicle, because I am one of those riders who leans far more to the "Zen" of motorcycling, than to the "Zoom". Both two-wheel vehicles I've owned purr more than roar, and I don't even own a lot of black leather. Roaring is just not something I do so much. Sleek, classic Euro-styling is way more my thing than raw power and chrome.

"The Perfect Vehicle" is mostly one woman's personal story, interwoven with some history of Ducati motorcycles, how motorcycle engines work, and motorcycle racing. I like Pierce's writing the very best when she describes her attraction to motorcycling, and when she ponders her motivation for riding. I like her least when she bogs down in details of racing, since that's not an area I'm very interested in personally. For me racing would be fascinating to see and experience in person, but reading about it isn't all too exciting, and these sections seem to go on and on. I loved her descriptions of doing roadside repairs on her bike, though partly because it made me appreciate my modern bike's reliability, and it made me think I do not have the patience or the mechanical aptitude to ever own a "classic" bike like a Ducati, no matter how they might make my heart flutter! It seems that certain bikes - Harleys, old BMW's, and Ducati's, for example, develop this almost cult-like following. That's a part of motorcycling I don't really "get". There are a few bikes that really awe me (e.g. the Honda Trans-Alp, and my brother's old BMW ST-100), and a few that absolutely turn me off (e.g. the Honda Rune), but I generally like nearly all of them, at least to look at, if not to ride. I guess we all use different criteria to determine what "fits" us, and mine have to do with leg room and being fairly nimble on curves and in traffic. Pierce does an admirable job of describing what drew her to the Ducati, and what kept her riding them, despite their quirks and mechanical failures, and despite the many complications in her own life. For a number of reasons, the Ducati "fit" her, just as riding came to "fit" her. In the beginning, I appreciated her introspection and self-examination, and sort of identified with it. By the end of the book, it got a bit tedious for me, and her life seemed rather bleak, overall. Still, there were parts of the book where her words really shone, and touched me, and described the joy and passion of motorcycling far better than I ever could. Those sections alone make the book worth reading, and if you also have a greater passion than me for racing, and the mechanical side of motorcycles, there is even more for you in the book!

The other book, I actually read a long time ago, and will have to browse through it again, to really do it justice. I read it when I was still fairly new to riding, and felt like a total oddball, both because I was a lone female, and because I was riding a scooter. The book made me feel a lot better about it all, because it's a history of many different women, from all walks of life, who were involved with all different aspects of riding. Many of these women started riding at a time when motorcycles were not fashionable, or even socially acceptable. It took great courage for them to pursue their love for riding; they were pioneers, each in their own way. It's hard to imagine the obstacles, and the abuse, and the ridicule they must have endured. Yet for them, the ride mattered more. That, I think any motorcycle rider can identify with! Their courage and conviction made my troubles and trials seem awfully small and petty in comparison. I could handle a few snide remarks, and deal with the patronizing and ill-advised counsel from people who didn't know what they were talking about. Most of these women dealt with far worse, and still they rode.

Whether these women raced, or rode cross-country, or rode recreationally on weekends, they were not in it for personal gain or glory. There wasn't any for them, then. I didn't see a poser in the lot, though the women described in the book were a very large and very diverse group, and had different levels of commitment to riding, from occasional recreation to the total addict. Reading the book made me feel like part of something bigger than just my own feeble riding efforts, like I was included in this long and fascinating history of women riders. Though I didn't feel an urge to roar, I did feel a lot prouder of my ride, and of my riding. At this point, I was riding a nearly 20 year-old 250 cc scooter, so I needed all the encouragement I could get! You certainly don't get much respect on a ride like that, though the people who ridiculed it most probably knew the least about what it was capable of doing. This book reminded me that it is always easiest to mock what you're most ignorant of. Another philosophy I think most of these women believed and lived by, is to live life to its very fullest, really going all out for what mattered most to them. Most of us could use a bit more of that attitude.

The book also had some practical advice to offer, such as finding a bike that physically fits. For many women, their smaller size (and shorter inseams) means that a lot of bikes are tall and hard to handle. The book discusses some options, as well as modifying a motorcycle for a shorter rider. After watching several very petite women struggle to control even the smallest motorcycle in the MSF safety course, I understood better what a challenge this could be. And yet, there were several smaller women that went at it with confidence and gusto, and pulled it off with style and grace.

This particular issue didn't apply so much to me, but after reading the book, when I eventually decided to switch from the scooter to a "real" motorcycle, the ergonomics were right at the top of my list, and there were a lot of really great motorcycles that got eliminated because they just weren't comfortable to be on. The book was worth its price just for this advice; it kept me from choosing a motorcycle that could make my heart race, but also make my poor arms and legs ache.

The book attempts to offer aspiring female riders not only encouragement, but also an education, so they can make informed choices that will work for them, in the long run. I liked very much that the book didn't assume we're all about pretty, shiny paint colors, and how much fringe we can fit on our riding gear. Not that there's anything wrong with fringe, or a cool bike color. I just think we are capable of considering other things, too. I'm not a seasoned rider, and yet I can look at a bike, and admire it greatly, but still know it would never be right for me. Even though riding is a passion, you can still be practical, too! Unless you are just going to drape your leather bikini-clad self across the bike for photo opportunities, and/or trailer it to be a static display at bike shows, you still want to be able to control and enjoy your motorcycle out on the road, doing your kind of riding. There are plenty of riders, both male and female, who make their choice of motorcycle based purely on brand, or on looks, or on what their friends ride. If that works for them, then so be it. However, I appreciated that the book pointed out some other critical factors, and helped me to think more long-term. It helped me step out of my comfort zone, and after some initial growing pains, the choice I made seems like the best possible one for me. My choice has stretched both my budget and my riding ability quite a bit, but the bike still "fits" me nearly two years later, and that's included some longer rides, daily commuting in decent weather, and many wonderful weekend rides. I think the book conveyed enough information to help someone who was into trails, or racing, or long distance riding, to also make appropriate choices.

The book showed some of the quirkier segments of the female riding population, from the very early female riders (some of whom formed clubs with matching color-coordinated uniforms, designed to overcome some of the negative stereotypes of their day), to the high-power racers, to the author herself, who favors BMW motorcycles (which definitely doesn't seem like the most common choice of most women, especially around here!). At a time when many of the people around me seemed to think my riding made me fit into a tight little box crammed full of overworked stereotypes, this book showed that it's a big, wide world out there for female riders. I think any book that opens up the world like that, is a great book!

In the end, it's hard to compare the two books. I'd read both of them again. However, I own "Hear Me Roar", and would buy it for a female friend who was considering a motorcycle. "The Perfect Vehicle", I have on loan, and will pass on to my father, to try to help him understand why 3 of his 6 children have gotten bitten so bad by this motorcycle bug. For me, though it was a good read, it's not a "keeper". I think "Hear Me Roar" has more in it, to appeal to more women; though perhaps most of it might be a bit too basic for an experienced rider.

After all is said and done, I think I'm ready to read it all over again! I'm sure I'll see it in a whole new light now. I'm still very inexperienced as a rider, but I know a lot more than I did when I read it the first time!

Overall, what I can't keep out of the review for either book is how they relate to my personal experiences with motorcycles. In the end, I think that's what it's all about for most of us. Each of us seems to take different things from it, whether it's the thrill of speed, the chill of vulnerability, the surge of power, an altered self image, an altered public image, the smooth swoop of curve, the expectation of what lies on the road ahead, or the indescribable feeling of being one with the machine. Maybe it's a little of all those things, or something else altogether. I hope when you ride, it opens your world wide!

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