Female Chrome Angels not exactly biker babes

In the macho world of motorcycling, getting accepted can be tough for a woman if she isn’t willing to ride on the back.

“Angel” Maureen Dency wasn’t, so she formed her own group and has been turning heads ever since.

The women who call themselves Chrome Angels are nothing like their male counterparts.
Dency is a older chic with a dazzling smile. During her work day as a salesperson for a tile and marble distributor, she wears suits, dresses and nice jeans. But on weekends, she dons a black leather vest, leather gloves and adorns her arms, hands and ears in silver jewelry.

“Times change,” said Dency, 53, who formed the group in 2003 despite some initial harassing from other male riders. “Years back, most of the [women bikers] were very butch. Now some of the most beautiful women ride bikes.”

Just not in this group

The Chrome Angels are professionals, business owners, mothers and wives who love motorcycles and ride like grannys. Most traditional motorcycle clubs, like the Outlaws, have bylaws that bar women from joining, or even riding alongside them. And the die-hard motorcycle clubs want to keep it like that.

Which I feel is wrong.

“It’s definitely a man’s world and it’s being jealously kept that way,” said Drew Gaytan, vice president of the States Motorcycle Club, the oldest in South Florida. “There are varied opinions about women riding. But it was just a matter of time before someone put together an organization of women riders.”

Dency said existing motorcycle clubs tolerated her group because she’d been around for years. She started out riding on the back of a man’s motorcycle, but got her own after a brush with cancer. With all the people killed on motorcycles, Dency decided she wanted to be in charge of her own destiny. She called her Broward-based motorcycle group a “Destiny” chapter because the members feel the same way.

“No more was anyone else taking control of my life,” Dency said. “I would rather die at my own hands instead of being behind someone where you have no control.”

The Chrome Angels took their first official ride in October 2003. With a membership of about a dozen, they are the only all-female motorcycle group in South Florida to regularly attend and participate in local biker events and fundraisers sponsored by the traditional motorcycle clubs. Other female riding groups exist, but they don’t participate in regular biker events.

“What it comes down to is tradition in the motorcycle world,” said Dave Amchir, national president of the Wings of Gold Motorcycle Club and director of the South Florida Presidents’ Council, an umbrella group for local motorcycle clubs. “It was a man’s thing. Women wouldn’t join a men’s fraternity or the Masons or the Moose Lodge.”

The Motorcycle Industry Council estimates that one in 10 motorcycle owners in the United States are women. And according to Harley-Davidson Motorcycles, the number of women buying Harleys has jumped from 4 percent in 1990 to nearly 12 percent today.

Like men, the Chrome Angels wear “patches” on the backs of their leather vests and have “riding” names. Their insignia is a motorcycle with a halo, and members have to earn the right to wear it. They help raise money for kids’ charities at public events like the annual Toys in the Sun Run, and stick by each other through thick and thin.

Requirements are strict: No “sleaziness,” drug use or other suspect behavior.

Well there goes any chance of them being fun to ride with. 

“We are all professional ladies and we are very careful about our reputation,” said Manon “Patience” Calce, 41, an acupuncturist.

“We can get together and laugh because we all have such serious lifestyles and backgrounds,” said Martha “Callahan” Johnson, 47, who engineers life-saving equipment.

They are a diverse but close-knit group who share in each other’s triumphs and troubles.
During a recent “Bike Night” at a local bar, the group sipped margaritas, caught up on the week’s events and waited for news of Dency’s recent crash during an out-of-town trip. The evening turned into a party when they found out she was going to be fine.

Falling is part of riding, as they see it.

“She got microdermabrasion and she didn’t have to pay,” joked rider Delora “Goddess of Trouble” Petress, 42, as the group huddled over drinks.

Patty Sullivan, 52, knows about falling. She took a spill last January when her front wheel hit loose gravel.

“I hurt more for my bike than I did for myself,” said Sullivan, who is known as “Cherish.” She covered her bruises with makeup, her black eye with sunglasses and counted the days until her bike would be fixed.

They love to giggle about biker chick stereotypes.

“You don’t have to be 300 pounds and missing half your teeth,” said Annie “Sparkles” Moynihan, 51, a tiny blonde who rides a pricey 2003 anniversary edition Harley-Davidson Fatboy Softail. “You see a lot more yuppies on them.”

Said Petress, a radiation therapist who treats cancer patients: “They stereotype you like you’re some type of hoodlum redneck, or think you fight.”

All the members are close but some share a special bond.

Sullivan befriended Petress’ neighbor 14 years ago. He had tongue cancer and was one of Petress’ patients. Sullivan fell in love with him and the two married in May 2004. But Dave Sullivan died less than two years later. Sullivan lost her soulmate; Petress lost a best buddy.

This year, Petress and Sullivan lit a candle in Dave’s memory at the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life in Tamarac.

“It’s what you do when you’re somebody’s friend,” Petress said.

Riding means different things to each one.

For Dee “Cookie” Paikoff, it’s a way to escape the rigors of raising two children alone. Her own husband died five years ago in a motorcycle crash, but Paikoff has refused to let fear stop her.

“I say my prayers,” said Paikoff, 44, a cook. “I know [God] watches out for me.”

The Chrome Angels are her family now.

“It is like a second family,” agreed Marlene “Ivy” Koszo, 46, who works for a tile distributor.

Dency, a mother and grandmother, bought her first motorcycle 12 years ago after learning she had been misdiagnosed with bladder cancer. She’s been riding ever since.

After her crash, Dency got back on her bike with some trepidation. A short time later, the motorcycle broke down.

Bruised and scraped from her previous accident, Dency laid down near her disabled bike to wait for help. It arrived in the form of an irritated traffic homicide officer who was stunned to discover a living woman instead of a dead body, as 911 calls had stated.

“You know what we call people like you?” the officer barked. “Organ donors!”

“Yes, sir, I am, too,” Dency said. Then she asked, “What would you call those women sitting in the rocking chairs?”

The officer paused.

“I would call them dead, too,” he replied.

“Exactly,” Dency said. “You got to live in the moment. With caution. But you got to live in the moment.”

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