Living on a Ride…


I would love to say I was born on a bike. No one is. I can say, that at 1 year old I was put on my first Harley. My uncle thought it was a good idea to at least to take me around the block. My family, to say the nicest possible wording, was not happy with his decision. I was, in all, a baby. I just got out of my 1st Open Heart Surgery. They thought he had lost his mind. Little did they know, they freed mine.

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When I say, “I was born and breed on a bike,” I’m not joking. One of my first memories was sitting on that bike. Aunts yelling. Grandma ready to fight my Uncle.

I reflect back on it now and I laugh. It made me who I currently am. A ride or die, literally, I’ve almost been there, bike lady.

Do I have regrets??? I’m constantly asked.

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“Hell no!” I love my bike life. Are some days hot as the sun? Oh yeah. Are some cold as the North? Certainly. Would I change anything? No way. I was in my accidents. I survived. It’s not a matter of IF, it’s WHEN, when it comes to my lifestyle. Everyone who rides, weather, (literally,) on the bike itself or back, will be in a accident. I just happened to get mine out of the way.

I’m pretty preticular who I get on a bike with. Really. I rode with one person for over 8+ years. He’s my best friend. I do not ever get on a random bike. To me, that is not safe.


(That’s my best friend, my ride or die.)

Am I a “Sons of Anarchy” woman? Do you believe that is the lifestyle I live? Can I have my hair in a ponytail, jeans, tee, boots, and vest all day…??? Can I then flip myself to a ballgown with heels and full make-up at night?

I guess you will have to stay tuned to find that answer out….

XX- Jessica days


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