Text by Sylvia Evans • Photography by Maria Allan
My former neighbor Donna requested me to play host to 22 women for an elegantly appointed Easter tea. My company weren’t your typical tea women, nor did they arrive within the traditional method. They got here up my quiet rural street on bikes, in a cacophony of blaring engines and deafening noise. Not one in every of them wore a tea-party hat and even a costume. Black leather-based and shiny helmets have been the compulsory apparel for these attendees, all members of a feminine bike group—The Ladies of Harley. Yes, that’s Harley, as in Harley Davidson® bikes.