Member story: Kathleen Terner
Rider and mother Kathleen Terner describes how she rediscovered her confidence on an epic motorcycle adventure
In most ways, I’m a rather typical middle-aged woman. As a public high school math teacher with three beautiful children, I’ve worked more than one job most of their lives to provide for them – tutoring, teaching night classes, even delivering food. Much of my adult life has revolved around nurturing my children, students and friends.
So when I first donned black leather chaps, motorcycle boots and a helmet in 2014 to ride on the back of a motorcycle with my then-future second husband, I felt like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. It was liberating to express myself in such a different manner.
As I spent the next four-plus years riding on the back of a Harley-Davidson, I didn’t think I’d ever be brave enough, strong enough or skilled enough to ride my own bike. But as my marriage deteriorated, I realized I might have to get my own endorsement if I wanted to continue to ride.
At age 52, I took to riding my own bike with a level of passion that surprised even me. It was exhilarating and empowering to direct and guide so much horsepower up hills, around curves and down straightaways. I could express an inner strength not normally reflected by my 5-foot-2, 110-pound physique. Riding also allowed me to experience the world around me with all five senses. The rumble of the bike, texture of the road, temperature of the air, and wind in my face were strangely soothing and comforting.
Due to travel restrictions imposed during the pandemic, I hadn’t visited my son Ethan in Washington, D.C., for several months. In the spring of 2020, newly divorced and recovered from throat cancer, I set out on an eight-week solo summer motorcycle trip from my home in Oregon to see him.
Embarking on the adventure, my greatest fear was riding my bike alone. However, once I got out on the open road on my 2018 Softail Slim, I quickly discovered a sense of community with fellow bikers in the cities I traveled through.
Crossing the northern states, I decided to tackle an IBA-certified endurance ride on my way east. As I started the challenge, I wasn’t sure if I could even finish the target 1,000 miles in less than 24 hours. But I quickly took to the experience and ended up riding over 1,500 miles in less than 36 hours. I discovered an inner fortitude I hadn’t known was there.
Spending time with Ethan in Washington, D.C., eating dinners together on the rooftop of his apartment and looking out on the Capitol lit up at night was amazing. Being able to hug him, talk with him and reconnect with him after months apart filled me with gratitude.
Armed with an increasingly positive perspective as I headed south, I was still unsure of my ability to handle the technical aspects of a ride like Tail of the Dragon, with its more than 300 curves in 11 miles. I had underestimated myself! After joyfully riding it twice, I began to identify as a biker in my own right.
Heading west, I faced a week of triple-digit temperatures in Utah and Arizona. I was apprehensive about spending so much time clad from head to toe in black leather during such intense heat, but I ended up mesmerized by the seven national parks I visited, particularly falling in love with Zion.
Turning north toward home, I travelled through California and southern Oregon, and visited friends from my youth. As I talked with them about the difficulties I had faced, it dawned on me that though the past had shaped who I was today, it didn’t have to define me. Just as I had chosen to become a biker, I could now choose to learn from all I had experienced and face the future with a sense of confidence and hope.
As I overcame challenges and obstacles during my trip, I blossomed into a woman of strength and power, with friends from all walks of life both inside and outside the motorcycle world. Determined to encourage others facing difficulties, I wrote Two-Wheeled Wind Therapy about my life-changing motorcycle adventure, and it was published by Road Dog Publications in May 2021.
In the summer of that year, I embarked on another epic biking adventure; this one to book signings at each of the four corners of the U.S. as a published author and speaker. This solo trip encompassed almost 23,000 miles through all 48 contiguous states, a 2,000-mile IBA-certified endurance ride, mechanical difficulties and new roads from the tip of Maine to the outskirts of the Mojave Desert.
In the summer of 2022, yearning to stretch my wings a little farther, I travelled through Canada to Anchorage, passing through stunning mountain ranges that left me wondering if I was heading to Alaska or on vacation in the Swiss Alps. The challenges were plentiful: I found myself navigating around bears, traveling through rain heavy enough to fill up the insides of my goggles, and bumping and jostling my way along gravel and dirt roads still under construction.
The farther I pushed north, the more difficult the ride became, with huge potholes, cracks and crevasses large enough to lose a chihuahua in. Mosquitoes were out in full force, swarming relentlessly around my face when I stopped at gas stations. I was grateful to have a gaiter, helmet, and goggles to protect me from the relentless insects sometimes jokingly referred to as “Alaska’s state bird.”
Five days and over 2,000 miles after leaving home, I crossed into Alaska at the Beaver Creek Checkpoint, delighted to have finally reached the 49th state after years of dreaming of such an accomplishment. I stopped for the night at Copper Creek before traveling on to Anchorage the next day. Once there, I headed straight to the dealership to drop off “My Baby” for a much-needed service. Later that evening, with my Harley safely tucked away in my host family’s garage, I reflected on how much more confidence I had than just a few years before. The successes I had experienced on my Harley had helped me to see myself more as a person of strength and value than ever before.
If I can do it, so can you. What would you do if fear were not your first thought?
It was love at first sight when I first sat on my Softail Slim in November 2018, but I still wasn’t sure if someone of my size and stature would be able to handle the 700-pound machine. However, I’ve come to see my bike as a natural extension of myself, partially because I’ve adapted My Baby with H-D parts to fit my own body, including:
• Four-inch riser bars and extra foam on my existing seat pan that allow me to sit upright and comfortably reach the handlebar.
• A cut-down King-Size Detachables 18-inch Windshield so I can easily see over it.
• Two-and-a-half-inch Short Angled Adjustable Highway Pegs to give my legs a place to rest on longer trips.
• A heated Harley jacket liner and an evaporating cooling vest that make it possible for me to comfortably travel in biting cold as well as searing heat.
• The sissy bar, luggage rack and saddlebags I’ve installed that have turned my Softail Slim into my own version of a Touring bike.
In February 2022, with 85,000 miles on my bike and my sights set on Alaska and Newfoundland, I purchased a 2021 version of My Baby in a breathtaking billiard red color, making it possible for me to transfer over all the Harley accessories I loved so much while continuing my North American adventures in style.
First published in Vol. 106 Issue 01 of The Enthusiast®.
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