Women are supposed to be demure. They're supposed to be reserved and gentle.
They're not supposed to smell of grease and rubber, and they're supposed to drive sensible cars.
Try telling that to Melissa Rhea. Or Diana Martin. Or the countless other women who own motorcycles or just ride them.
Some of these women, veteran riders and amateurs, met in March at Harley-Davidson of Crete for a garage party, a free company-sponsored event for women aimed at educating women on the basics of motorcycle riding.
It had the feel of a Tupperware party or baby shower, as women nibbled on a buffet and listened for their name to be called in the raffle for keychains, bandanas and other gifts.
But make no mistake. It wasn't a day at the spa.
At the front of the store, a petite blonde woman corralled their attention.
The woman was Melissa Rhea, professional rider and host of the event, an effort at spreading the sisterhood of riding.
"I was in your boat 15 years ago, scared to death to even sit on my first Harley-Davidson," Rhea told the women, some who nodded their heads, as if remembering their own first ride.
You may be asking yourself several questions about owning a bike, Rhea said, including, "Does riding your husband's count?"
The women laughed, as if knowing the answer is an unequivocal, "No."
They formed a fast camaraderie, as if war buddies remembering their bike battles. They are quick, easy friendships, like those formed between men in pick-up basketball.
Jim Crisman, who works in motorcycle sales at the Crete shop and was one of the few men present, placed a bike on its side, its seat and handlebars facing a row of women in chairs. Each one practiced "picking up" the bike, an arduous move that is more of an exercise than it might sound.
The women filled the garage's rubber-tinged air with tales from the road, and the mishaps they found there.
"Don't fight a slide," Sue Frieling, of Mokena, Ill., advised, describing one fall. "Once you're down, get up and get back on. Get right back on one."
Diana Martin of DeMotte, backed herself up against the bike, squatted down and grabbed the seat and guts with both hands.
"Come on, Diana," her sister, Linda White, cheered from next to brightly painted bikes of burnt orange and royal blue.
"You can tailor a Harley like you can tailor your jeans," said Steph Galloway, who works in MotorClothes sales at the Crete shop.
Martin sparked White's interest in motorcycles, having started riding in 2006. When asked what she likes about riding, Martin said, "Oh man," and paused. "You just see so much, you're just so much more aware of what's going on. After a hard day of work, you get on a bike, and it all disappears."
Jill Murr and Lori Siriann, MotorClothes associates at the Crete store, guided women on the functional yet fashionable gear.
From helmets to boots, they explained that just because something looks nice, it doesn't mean it's safe.
Collars need to be snapped down. Waterproof gear is best. "Helmet hair" is not worth fighting. Jeans need to be durable. Ankles need to be protected. Some boots are for riding, others for post-ride.
"I'd rather teach women to wear leather jackets for protection, rather than fostering riding as a fashion statement," Rhea said.
