My name is Jo. I'm 61 years old, a Nana, and I've been riding motorcycles on and off since I was 16.
Looking back at why I started riding, I think my dad simply got fed up with being my taxi driver. His solution was to buy me a little orange Suzuki Suzi 50cc step-through moped and send me on an RAC/ACU six-week riding course.
At the time, I probably didn't appreciate it. Now, I realise it was one of the best gifts he ever gave me. The roadcraft and riding skills I learned during those early lessons have stayed with me throughout my life and gave me a solid foundation for everything that followed.
More importantly, they gave me freedom.
I can still remember the feeling of independence, the wind in my face and the excitement of heading off on my own adventures.
At 17, I graduated to a Yamaha RD125DX. I absolutely loved that bike. It was one of the last unrestricted 125s and, to a teenager, it felt like the most exciting thing in the world.
Life, however, has a habit of taking us in different directions.
My boyfriend at the time wasn't keen on motorcycles and, somewhat reluctantly, I swapped two wheels for four and bought a car.
Years passed. Relationships changed. Life moved on.
Although motorcycles never completely disappeared from my life, it would be many years before I returned to riding properly.
I occasionally rode my partner's bikes, but when he bought a Yamaha Diversion, my short legs and that bike were never going to be a successful combination. I was firmly relegated to pillion duties.
Then, in 2020, everything changed.
My new partner, a lifelong biker, decided it was time to get me back on the road. At 55 years old, I found myself riding a 1993 Kawasaki EN500.
I won't pretend I wasn't nervous. I was.
But something wonderful happened.
The skills came back.
The confidence returned.
And before long I was enjoying every minute of it.
Unfortunately, Covid arrived shortly afterwards and riding opportunities became limited. To make matters worse, the Kawasaki wasn't exactly renowned for its reliability and spent almost as much time being worked on as it did on the road. Then, in 2021, I took early retirement from the NHS and decided it was finally time to buy my dream bike.
A Harley-Davidson Sportster XL1200C.
At the time she was green and black, but when we noticed rust beginning to appear on the rear mudguard, we decided she deserved something special. My partner is a wizard with a spray gun and together we designed and created a complete makeover.
That's how Gypsy Rose was born.
She's beautiful.
She's also a complete diva.
With all that chrome, she's definitely not a winter bike. So naturally I needed another motorcycle.
Enter my Honda Shadow 750. She's my "rat bike" and happily goes out in conditions that Gypsy Rose would consider completely unacceptable. The Shadow doesn't care about mud, rain or dirt. In fact, I think she quite enjoys it.
One of the biggest surprises since returning to motorcycling has been discovering the rally scene.
Until six years ago I'd never attended a rally. Now we regularly attend events around the country and I've made friendships that I know will last a lifetime. I'd recommend the Soggy Moggy in Ramsey for anyone looking for a friendly first rally experience.
The biker community has brought so much fun, laughter and companionship into my life.
In fact, that sense of friendship and support inspired me to start my own all-female motorcycle club in Norfolk, called Miss Fitz Sisterhood.
There are still relatively few women-only motorcycle clubs, and I wanted to create a welcoming space where women riders could get together, share experiences, build confidence and enjoy adventures on two wheels. We currently have seven members and are hoping to grow, but it's already become something I'm incredibly proud of.
Seeing women encourage one another, celebrate each other's achievements and simply enjoy riding together reminds me exactly why I came back to motorcycling in the first place.
For me, motorcycles are about much more than transport.
They're about freedom. Friendship. Adventure.
And sometimes they're simply about taking a little time for yourself.
When life gets busy or overwhelming, there is something incredibly therapeutic about getting out on the bike. Sometimes all you need is thirty minutes to clear your head. Although, if we're being honest, those thirty minutes do have a habit of turning into a couple of hours.
And that's some of the best self-care you'll ever find.
If you're thinking about learning to ride—or returning after years away—my advice is simple.
Do it.
You're never too old.
Borrow a bike.
Beg for a bike.
Find a bike.
Get yourself out on the road.
You won't regret it.
To all my fellow Wind Sisters, ride safe. And perhaps I'll see you at a party in a field sometime soon.
For anyone in the Norfolk area interested in Miss Fitz Sisterhood, you can find the membership page here