Along for the ride on their motorcycles and off, these women stick together, even down life's steep and broken roads

10/23/03 - JULIA O'MALLEY
Portland News: 503-221-8199; portlandnews@news.oregonian.com

In late September, when Sheila Paeth woke from a surgery to reconstruct her breasts after a cancer-related mastectomy, she was wearing a hospital gown, Harley-Davidson sunglasses and a rhinestone tiara.

"There I was, still messed up from the drugs they gave me, doing a princess wave," said Paeth between drags from her Liggett Select cigarette at 9 Ball Sports Bar in Northeast Portland.

The get-well costume came courtesy of friends, most of whom are Paeth's motorcycle-riding sisters in the women's bike group, Girls Riding Independently Proud, or GRIP. Paeth, a 46-year-old Portland bus driver, credits GRIP, along with her friends and family, with helping her keep a sense of humor through the cancer diagnosis and treatment, which included five surgeries.

"I don't know what I would have done without these girls," she said. "This group has been the best therapy for me."
Paeth and a few of her pals began riding together a year ago with a mission to have fun, promote riding safety and provide support to women riders, on and off their bikes. Since they began, the group has grown to 20 and gained a name, T-shirts, motorcycle aliases and a Web site.

The most effective advertisement, however, comes when the women cruise Portland streets leading a hurricane of noise, clad in leather and fringe, pony tails trailing from the back of their helmets.

"I met them in a bar in Washington, and we exchanged phone numbers," said rider Jan Gleaves, 32. "I felt in my heart this was a group of women I wanted to get to know."

The diverse group has attracted novice to expert riders, including a single mother in her 30s and a grandmother in her 50s. They include a fork-lift driver, mortgage loan broker and alcohol and drug dependency counselor.

GRIP meets at 6:30 p.m. at 9 Ball the first Thursday of every month and gathers there at the same time on the third Thursday for a ride. The only requirement for membership is a desire to ride, although the women suggest prospective riders take a Team Oregon motorcycle certification class.

"A lot of us probably wouldn't ride if we didn't have each other," Paeth said. "We could ride with men, but that's a totally different type of riding."

Many women began their relationship with motorcycles by "packing" or riding on the back of a man's bike.

"I found myself looking around him, and I was much more excited about what was in front of me than what was behind me," said Nancy Wing, 43, who has been riding her Harley Davidson Custom Softail, dubbed "Tweety," for a little more than a year.

Riding offers unique challenges for women because they are often smaller than men and may have a harder time maneuvering the bikes, which can weigh up to 400 pounds. Women are also more likely to admit their fear the first time they get on a bike, encounter an erratic driver in a car or ride over the grates on the Hawthorne Bridge, Paeth said.

At its core, GRIP is about helping women overcome that fear, with the help of friends. And, as in Paeth's case, many relationships formed on the road extend into daily lives.

When rider Bev Daugherty discovered she had a serious heart condition earlier this year, she was jobless and without insurance. Women from the group showed up to do her yardwork, gave her money, took her to buy groceries and helped her get health insurance. "When I felt like not going on," she said, "they kicked me in the butt."

On an unseasonably warm "ride night" in October, a dozen women met at 9 Ball and rode down Northeast Marine Drive under a yellow moon to Tippy Canoe Bar and Grill, where they stopped for refreshments and conversation. Sitting at a crowded table Paeth rubbed her sore chest and made a crack about how going over bumps on the road "rings her new set of chimes." The table erupted with laughter.

"Since Sheila was diagnosed, I think just about every one of us has gone in and had a mammogram," said rider Barbara Tate, who goes by the handle "Dragon Lady" because of her penchant for long painted fingernails. After Paeth's diagnosis, Tate, who lost her mother to breast cancer, rode in a cross-country charity ride, collecting $2,300 in pledges for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.

On the way back from Tippy Canoe, the women buzzed through fallen leaves, smelling soil and skunk, passing gas stations, minimalls and a few pedestrians who stopped to wave. Paeth led the pack astride a Harley her husband gave her as a get-well present, wearing her sunglasses and a rhinestone tiara bolted to her helmet.

At a light, a woman peeled off into a turn lane to head home, and jokingly gave Paeth a stiff princess wave. Paeth waved back, the red light making her tiara sparkle, and yelled to no one in particular, "Life is good!"