It's Official!

Sometime earlier in the summer Jen sent me an e-mail with a link to a local women’s motorcycle club who was just getting their boots under them and in search of members. Like any good partner, I dutifully checked it out and, upon the page loading fully, began to laugh out loud hysterically. The link was for the Detroit chapter of Dykes on Bikes! It had been somewhat of a running joke between us since I took my first motorcycle safety class in 2007, that someday I would ride home sporting a leather jacket and Dykes on Bikes patch. I was only half-serious in all of those conversations, mostly because I assumed that there were no such chapters here in my home state at all, let alone one in my general geographic portion of this vast land mass.

As I surfed through their burgeoning website seeking information, I stumbled upon a “Contact Us” link and figured what the heck, let’s check it out. I typed up a quick e-mail expressing interest in joining the group and seeking information as to what I needed to do to make that happen as well as when meetings were and what the requirements for membership were exactly. I was shocked to get an almost instant response from their president telling me that simply by sending that e-mail I was considered a member and only needed to make an appearance at a meeting to meet the rest of the crew. I think Jen was even more surprised when I returned from work that evening with the news that I had “joined” and told her we just needed to show up for a meeting.

Meetings are held during the week about an hour from our house and consequentially we never managed to find the time to attend, until last night. When I went to work yesterday, I had no intention of doing anything other than putting in my standard 9-hour day, riding the bike home, and spending some time with Jen after dinner. The Dykes on Bikes meeting was to be held in its usual spot, at its usual time, and not exactly convenient to attend. Sometime around 3 o’clock I got an e-mail telling me that the venue for the meeting had been changed, to within 15 minutes from my house. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this was my chance to grab Jen, head out to our first meeting, and meet the crew. If we hated it we never had to go back and weren’t out anything but a few dollars in the gas tank and an hour or two of our Wednesday night. I managed to get in touch with her, by skirting around the firewall block on instant messaging here at work (don’t tell my boss that I know where the hole is), and she agreed that it was a good opportunity to test the waters. It was a plan!

I have to admit that I was nervous. I was walking into an unknown environment filled with unknown people, and quite possibly into an absolute drama fest in EVERY sense of that word. I’m a Dyke, a Butch Dyke to be exact, and I am well aware of what drama can ensue when you mix too many flavors of Dykes together in one spot for too long. Jen admitted she too was nervous, the whole meting new people thing isn’t usually our style to begin with but we were game anyway. As we pulled into the long driveway and passed clusters of trucks, trailers, and golf carts of crew who were at the fair grounds to shoot a movie, yes real Hollywood type movie with leading roles filled by names of people you would recognize, I was just hoping that I didn’t do something stupid like dump my bike in front of the “biker gang” and be laughed out of the meeting. It was a dirt road and I was carrying a passenger, so it was entirely possible to make a stupid mistake and go toppling over, but alas I managed to make it all the way to the main gate, hit the security checkpoint, and was waived through when I told the kid I was looking for the Dykes on Bikes group. They were easy enough to spot, all three of them standing next to a silver and purple Harley.

I pulled up slowly, flipped up the facemask, cut the engine, and introduced myself. Jen climbed off the bike and did the same as I carefully parked my bike next to that silver Harley and climbed off. They were friendly, entertaining, and genuinely happy to have us join them. I was impressed. I’m not certain what I was expecting to be honest but as we stood there talking, asking and answering questions while we waited for the rest of the group to arrive, my fears dissipated and within minutes I felt like both Jen and I belonged in the group for reasons other than my motorcycle.

The remainder of our evening was spent playing the hurry up and wait game that is so common in the movie business, or so others have told me, having a brief conversation with a producer, then a short meeting with the executive producer, and finally just sitting around a large table talking. I’m not certain anything will come of the movie thing, right now they are trying to work us into the script somehow as ourselves, the Detroit chapter of Dykes on Bikes. They have also offered roles as extras if any of us are willing to dress in period clothing at the Fair for background shots, but the chance to make an appearance in a major motion picture had nothing to do with why Jen and I went to that meeting in the first place. Do I think it would be cool to show up on the silver screen riding in a pack of lesbians down the road somewhere? Absolutely! Would I jump at the chance to make that happen? You betcha! However, the feeling I left that meeting with was the reason we went. It is something I have been searching for, something I didn’t know I was missing out on. When the gang headed to the hotel bar to get a drink, and I realized how late it had gotten, Jen and I decided to make our exit. We had not yet eaten dinner and since she gets up for work at 5am, we needed to get some food and head home to bed as quickly as possible. The group seemed genuinely bummed that we were heading out for the night, yet happy that we had finally made an appearance in a meeting. We parted ways with smiles and hugs, we were officially part of the family and I look forward to making time to attend more meetings in the future.

Mom, it’s official, your daughter is a self-proclaimed Dyke, she owns a motorcycle, and she is now an active member of the Dykes on Bikes!

To the crew from last night, Heather, Ronda, Marianne, Meg, and Cristi (I hope I spelled them right girls) THANK YOU! I have never in my life, been in a group of people who were so friendly, easy to talk to, fun, energetic, and understanding of my view of the world from the moment they laid eyes on me. It was truly an eye opening experience to hang out with you girls and I look forward to our next encounter. RIDE ON!