I love motorcycles, and my love for them goes way beyond the joy of riding them.

I got my first bike in second grade, my brother and I had to share it. It was a YZ80, a two stroke. It was loud and mean… and I felt like a bad ass riding it. I was a “tom-boy”as they called it. I wanted to do the things the boys did.

I can’t remember the learning to ride part for some reason, but I remember the crashes and adventures. Back then we could take off for hours and be home by dark. I crashed into a boy once on Mt. Solo, and he became my boyfriend for the summer. His name was Bobby and he was from Montana visiting. We came around a corner on the mountain road, both bikes being two strokes and loud somehow we didn’t hear until we were in view. I basically just slowed off to the side and dumped it, he ended up down in the slough. We were both fine.

My life at home wasn’t always the best. When I started riding motorcycles- although I did not know it at the time, it was an escape from home. That freedom feeling of going far away -and fast was a thrill. What if I just kept going? Not to mention the excitement and the ability to see so much more so much faster than walking. Imagine getting a car of sorts when your like 10. Besides riding horses, it was the first time I could do something and think of nothing else. They call that in the zone.

At the time, I did not know any other girls who rode motorcycles so it felt like MY thing. Like that it made me unique in some way.

Eventually, my brother and I got our own bikes, and my new one was a little street legal Yamaha. It had lights and blinkers, and I was a bit confused by it- but our family was on a budget so maybe someone gave it to us. I named her Vince after Vince Neil the singer of Motley Crue. In third grade I would ride that thing on the streets in my rural neighborhood and visit my great-grandma in a nursing home about a mile away. That freedom was mind blowing.

We graduated to a KX 125 and I was too short to reach the ground, it so I started with my foot on a construction bucket, I can’t remember how I ever stopped to put my foot down, but I do remember the giant muffler bubble burn I got from the bike landing on me once.

Yes I was breaking some rules, but hey I never got busted.

I met these woman because of an all woman’s motorcycle collective called THE LITAS with branches all over the world.

For that I am forever grateful, I love you Litas.

Gabrielle, a mother of three, Indian Motorcycle Ambassador, skin care witch, fun, adventurous, powerful and gorgeous human. Follow her adventures at EROS MOTO on instagram

On a long ride I get into a zen like state, all my worries left behind. Experiencing the world with a different point of view, and feeling as close to being a bird as possible. Often times I receive some sort of epiphany. It wasn’t always like that, there were some years of being nervous and even scared of the freeway and of most cars. And to some extent that comes with the territory. I broke through that to become a confident rider. Before every ride I sit and do a little safety ritual, envisioning a white light surrounding my and my bike, a circle of protection.

I’m using this blog as an opportunity to honor some of the amazing woman I have met along the way because of riding motorcycles. They just blow my away, and I never would have met them had it not been for the love of riding.

Mt. Tahoma

My first street bike was a 1975 Honda 400Four Supersport, and I rode that thing for 15 years before selling it at the beginning of the pandemic for a bike that ran. I loved that bike, made the same year as I was.

Image above by Megan Karson (link to her beautiful work)

Here this lovely woman Rhiannon is honoring her mother who has passed on. She holds her mother’s helmet and carries on her legacy.

She is a guidance and ritual woman who helps woman reclaim their legacy. Check her out at Motherline Magic

I shot some photos of the amazing Reagan (above) for a spread in THE TON MAGAZINE - a super cool moto mag.

Dream Roll, an all woman’s motorcycle campout in Shelton, Washington. Maybe one of the coolest things I have ever experienced. The 2023 Dream Roll is this weekend, and you better believe I will be there having a blast and empowering woman with some portraits. Stay Tuned.

“Be wild; that is how to clear the river. The river does not flow in polluted, we manage that. The river does not dry up, we block it. If we want to allow it its freedom, we have to allow our ideational lives to be let loose, to stream, letting anything come, initially censoring nothing. That is creative life. It is made up of divine paradox. To create one must be willing to be stone stupid, to sit upon a throne on top of a jackass and spill rubies from one’s mouth. Then the river will flow, then we can stand in the stream of it raining down.” - Woman Who Run with the Wolves

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