Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club & WIMA

It's a straightforward partnership. Like Morecambe and Wise or Ant and Dec, motorcycles go hand in hand with men. Proper men, who like going to the pub and enjoy the company of women. When you see a big bike roar past, it's more than likely that the leathered up rider will be a man. It's a male pursuit after all. Just flick through this magazine and count the number of scantily clad girls within these very pages. They're for us to ogle over, once we've finished drooling over the gleaming machinery.

But tucked away behind the raucous saloon that most bikers inhabit there exists a smaller, quieter, cosy bar, where other less likely two-wheeled hobbyists dwell away from the wheelying, chest-beating mainstream motorcycling fraternity. And it is to these dark and dusty corners that we must venture, in order to understand what drives and motivates those who ride bikes while sticking to their own decidedly different agenda.

And on a rainy Friday night deep in the heart of London's East End, this is as different as it's going to get. For I am in a gay pub. Pictures of moustachioed leatherboys adorn the gaudily decorated walls. A small stage decorated with fairy lights awaits the arrival of a drag queen cabaret show. This place isn't like my local at all. There's no football on the telly, no drunken codger in the corner, and - surprise - no women. Which is something of a relief, as it means I'm in the right place to meet the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club (London chapter).

In existence since 1977, the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club (GBMCC) was borne out of a desire for gay men to ride their bikes without the barbed prejudices of straight bikers getting in the way of their fun. The organisation now has over 400 members across the UK, divided into regional groups, which join up for a series of social get-togethers and ride-outs every month. Hmm, very interesting.

But I've got my preconceptions to deal with first. Let's cut to the chase. So, I enquire gingerly, do these get-togethers tend to end up with rampant man-on-man Bacchanalian orgies taking place in dimly-lit car parks? Preparing for my forced ejection from the pub, my question instead raises a peel of surprisingly manly laughter. "Orgies? No," cackles Paul Wallington, club secretary and proud Bandit 1200 owner. "We're a boring lot. Nothing like that ever happens. A lot of our members are couples and we all do our own thing. Have we disappointed you?"

Well, yes. If they're not indulging in gay sexual abandon, what do these guys do? And how am I going to make this feature interesting? And here's my answer. They all like talking about bikes, and riding bikes, and swapping maintenance tips about bikes. To illustrate the point, Tony Clayton pulls out the owner's manual for his 1200 Bandit and asks me whether I know of a way to improve the dipped beam on his headlight. Presuming that's not prison slang, it's true to say that this lot certainly are boring. In essence, the only difference between them and other male bike clubs is that they enjoy the company of other men a bit more than, well, I do. Oh, and they don't have a problem with homosexuals.

"I've been a member of several straight bike clubs," says Mark Ede, a 15-year GBMCC member and Honda Deauville owner. "I didn't make a big deal about my sexuality but one day someone asked me if I was gay and I said yes. After that I got a lot of attitude from the other members, so I left and joined this lot." And Mark isn't the only one with unfortunate tales of homophobic fellow bikers. "I've been riding for 40 years and I've always copped a bit of an attitude from the fast lads," adds Tony. But these chaps don't seem unduly bothered by any of this. Robert, the cheery membership secretary, tells of an off-road day he and his gay compadres were taking part in. His boyfriend and fellow GMBCC member Duncan experienced an unfortunate off and complained to the straight bikers also present that he had suffered something of an injury.

The straights stopped scoffing for a second and voiced their concerns only to be told by Robert that Duncan had "broken a cuticle". More laughter from the group. I guess my request for orgiastic revelations hadn't caused too much offence. Phew.

I was expecting these guys to be a lot more militant, but they seem very secure with their status as a minority group. Their club is open to all comers, including straight men. "We're turning the tables on regular clubs that don't like the idea of gays joining," says Paul. So, are there any straight men in the GBMCC? Er, no. Hardly surprising, that. But how about women? "Gays and lesbians who ride bikes are all welcome," continues Paul. "The dykes are more masculine than us. They're the only members who ride Harleys." Tony cuts in. "A regiment of them could defeat an army," he laughs. Joking aside, they say the best thing about their club is that without the pressure of wives and kids they can remain members indefinitely, leaving plenty of time for enjoying bikes - about which they are very passionate. "Bikes, faffing, and shopping. It's what we do best," chirps Robert.

They say the purpose of their organisation is to make the 'extraordinary appear ordinary', but I don't agree. They're not extraordinary, they're just a bunch of gay blokes who like hooning around on bikes. Good luck to them. At the end of our meeting, they make me an honorary member. So, if I ever decide to bat for the other side, I'll know where to go...

HE RACES BIKES, AND HE'S GAY!

In the world of motorcycle racing, being gay is probably something that is best kept quiet. It just doesn't fit in with the (very) manly nature of the sport. Not so for Michael Hill, Europe's only openly gay bike racer. With numerous top six finishes in British Superteen championships and the Aprilia 125cc challenge under his belt, 25-year old Michael currently races for Taboo Motorsport in the 125cc BSB championships on a GP spec Honda - a shocking pink one, natch.

All very impressive, but how does an openly gay man deal with the macho side of bike racing? "Well, I didn't actually out myself. It was never my intention to do so," says Michael. "My dad found out I was gay in 2000, we had a big row and I moved down to London with my boyfriend. My bike was taken back and the rumours started. And I didn't deny them. Most people were OK with it, but I got a few comments. They bothered me at first but I enjoy racing too much to let it get in the way. And besides, being the sole gay racer gets me more media attention and more sponsorship. So it hasn't affected me that much."

So if you're gay and fancy getting into motorcycle racing, use Michael as a role model. As he says: "I've got as much right as anyone - straight, black, whatever - to compete."

For more info, click onto www.taboomotorsport.co.uk

And if anything is going to make me consider becoming gay, the events of the next day might have something to do with it.

For the second part of my investigation into minority biking groups, I find myself in the bucolic environs of Greenwich Park the following morning to meet up with a select few members of WIMA - the Women's International Motorcycling Association.

My arrival at the park cafe is greeted with the kind of reception I would imagine being reserved for Ainsley Harriott at an Aryan Brotherhood meeting. Somewhat peeved at having her breakfast disturbed, London region leader and Alpha female of the group Jan Duke fills me in on her organisation's history. Founded in 1950 in the United States, WIMA sought to bring women motorcyclists together.

With 3000 members in 18 countries, this group is far bigger than the Gay Bikers club. But although there are only five of them present, I don't get the impression that these particular girls really get on with each other. The bonhomie of the gay bikers is most definitely missing. When Michelle Warmann appears on a Piaggio X9, Jan launches into a tirade about scooters that leaves the poor woman looking crestfallen. And this just after GPZ500 owner Marie Livings has told me about their biking 'sisterhood'.

Well, I'm not buying that claptrap. There isn't much small talk going on, so I decide to get the contentious questions out of the way. The bike press says you're all lesbians, I venture. So, are you? "That's a load of rubbish," states Jan bluntly. "We don't have much time for the bike press. It's macho and competitive," she continues. "And that sort of stuff doesn't interest us." So what was all that commotion over the scooter then? Seems a bit competitive to me. Moving on to the thorny issue of men, I get the response I'd been expecting. Men are 'pushy' when it comes to riding in town, 'intimidating' on track days and have a 'bad attitude' to women bikers in general. Which is probably all true. But it doesn't appear that these particular WIMA members are enjoying their bikes that much. They just seem to have something to prove. 'Look at us! We're women! On motorbikes!'

Now I'm not a woman, so I don't know what it's like to have to stand up for yourself on the road. It must be hard and I'm sure these girls have a valid point, but if I were them I'd relax a bit more and learn to ignore men. In fact, If I were a woman I'd probably just stay at home and bake cakes. What bliss.

To conclude then. Heterosexual men are the reason for the existence of these minority groups. If we weren't all so aggressive and fearful of our own sexuality, gay men and women could ride along with us without fear of being mocked or overtaken. Motorcycling would be an equal and harmonious pursuit free from competitiveness. It would be a glorious multi-pronged partnership. But it'll never happen. Unusual partnerships may be great, but they never last...

FEISTY RACING - FOR RACY LADIES

If you're a racy lady and fancy riding hell-for-leather with a bit of female support around you, then Feisty Racing could be your high-speed salvation.

This all-female team aims to get more ladies on the grid at Bemsee club races around the country and ultimately put an all-girl championship into action by 2006. You don't have to be a racer to join. You don't even have to have done a track day. All that's required is the will to win and enough lolly to pay for your racing basics (bike, leathers etc). Feisty will do the rest, helping you to develop the skills to race and, hopefully, win. And if you think this lot are just a bunch of mumsy types wobbling around on bikes they can't handle, think again. TWO's very own road test beaver Jon Urry has seen the Feisty girls in action and, according to him, they are 'proper fast.' High praise indeed. So, what are you waiting for ladies? Get racing...

For more info check out www.bikegirl.co.uk

It's a straightforward partnership. Like Morecambe and Wise or Ant and Dec, motorcycles go hand in hand with men. Proper men, who like going to the pub and enjoy the company of women. When you see a big bike roar past, it's more than likely that the leathered up rider will be a man. It's a male pursuit after all. Just flick through this magazine and count the number of scantily clad girls within these very pages. They're for us to ogle over, once we've finished drooling over the gleaming machinery.

But tucked away behind the raucous saloon that most bikers inhabit there exists a smaller, quieter, cosy bar, where other less likely two-wheeled hobbyists dwell away from the wheelying, chest-beating mainstream motorcycling fraternity. And it is to these dark and dusty corners that we must venture, in order to understand what drives and motivates those who ride bikes while sticking to their own decidedly different agenda.

And on a rainy Friday night deep in the heart of London's East End, this is as different as it's going to get. For I am in a gay pub. Pictures of moustachioed leatherboys adorn the gaudily decorated walls. A small stage decorated with fairy lights awaits the arrival of a drag queen cabaret show. This place isn't like my local at all. There's no football on the telly, no drunken codger in the corner, and - surprise - no women. Which is something of a relief, as it means I'm in the right place to meet the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club (London chapter).

In existence since 1977, the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club (GBMCC) was borne out of a desire for gay men to ride their bikes without the barbed prejudices of straight bikers getting in the way of their fun. The organisation now has over 400 members across the UK, divided into regional groups, which join up for a series of social get-togethers and ride-outs every month. Hmm, very interesting.

But I've got my preconceptions to deal with first. Let's cut to the chase. So, I enquire gingerly, do these get-togethers tend to end up with rampant man-on-man Bacchanalian orgies taking place in dimly-lit car parks? Preparing for my forced ejection from the pub, my question instead raises a peel of surprisingly manly laughter. "Orgies? No," cackles Paul Wallington, club secretary and proud Bandit 1200 owner. "We're a boring lot. Nothing like that ever happens. A lot of our members are couples and we all do our own thing. Have we disappointed you?"

Well, yes. If they're not indulging in gay sexual abandon, what do these guys do? And how am I going to make this feature interesting? And here's my answer. They all like talking about bikes, and riding bikes, and swapping maintenance tips about bikes. To illustrate the point, Tony Clayton pulls out the owner's manual for his 1200 Bandit and asks me whether I know of a way to improve the dipped beam on his headlight.

Presuming that's not prison slang, it's true to say that this lot certainly are boring. In essence, the only difference between them and other male bike clubs is that they enjoy the company of other men a bit more than, well, I do. Oh, and they don't have a problem with homosexuals.

"I've been a member of several straight bike clubs," says Mark Ede, a 15-year GBMCC member and Honda Deauville owner. "I didn't make a big deal about my sexuality but one day someone asked me if I was gay and I said yes. After that I got a lot of attitude from the other members, so I left and joined this lot." And Mark isn't the only one with unfortunate tales of homophobic fellow bikers. "I've been riding for 40 years and I've always copped a bit of an attitude from the fast lads," adds Tony. But these chaps don't seem unduly bothered by any of this. Robert, the cheery membership secretary, tells of an off-road day he and his gay compadres were taking part in. His boyfriend and fellow GMBCC member Duncan experienced an unfortunate off and complained to the straight bikers also present that he had suffered something of an injury.

The straights stopped scoffing for a second and voiced their concerns only to be told by Robert that Duncan had "broken a cuticle". More laughter from the group. I guess my request for orgiastic revelations hadn't caused too much offence. Phew.

I was expecting these guys to be a lot more militant, but they seem very secure with their status as a minority group. Their club is open to all comers, including straight men. "We're turning the tables on regular clubs that don't like the idea of gays joining," says Paul. So, are there any straight men in the GBMCC? Er, no. Hardly surprising, that. But how about women? "Gays and lesbians who ride bikes are all welcome," continues Paul. "The dykes are more masculine than us. They're the only members who ride Harleys."

Tony cuts in. "A regiment of them could defeat an army," he laughs. Joking aside, they say the best thing about their club is that without the pressure of wives and kids they can remain members indefinitely, leaving plenty of time for enjoying bikes - about which they are very passionate. "Bikes, faffing, and shopping. It's what we do best," chirps Robert.

They say the purpose of their organisation is to make the 'extraordinary appear ordinary', but I don't agree. They're not extraordinary, they're just a bunch of gay blokes who like hooning around on bikes. Good luck to them. At the end of our meeting, they make me an honorary member. So, if I ever decide to bat for the other side, I'll know where to go...

And if anything is going to make me consider becoming gay, the events of the next day might have something to do with it.

For the second part of my investigation into minority biking groups, I find myself in the bucolic environs of Greenwich Park the following morning to meet up with a select few members of WIMA - the Women's International Motorcycling Association.

My arrival at the park café is greeted with the kind of reception I would imagine being reserved for Ainsley Harriott at an Aryan Brotherhood meeting. Somewhat peeved at having her breakfast disturbed, London region leader and Alpha female of the group Jan Duke fills me in on her organisation's history. Founded in 1950 in the United States, WIMA sought to bring women motorcyclists together.

With 3000 members in 18 countries, this group is far bigger than the Gay Bikers club. But although there are only five of them present, I don't get the impression that these particular girls really get on with each other. The bonhomie of the gay bikers is most definitely missing. When Michelle Warmann appears on a Piaggio X9, Jan launches into a tirade about scooters that leaves the poor woman looking crestfallen. And this just after GPZ500 owner Marie Livings has told me about their biking 'sisterhood'.

Well, I'm not buying that claptrap. There isn't much small talk going on, so I decide to get the contentious questions out of the way. The bike press says you're all lesbians, I venture. So, are you? "That's a load of rubbish," states Jan bluntly. "We don't have much time for the bike press. It's macho and competitive," she continues. "And that sort of stuff doesn't interest us." So what was all that commotion over the scooter then? Seems a bit competitive to me. Moving on to the thorny issue of men, I get the response I'd been expecting. Men are 'pushy' when it comes to riding in town, 'intimidating' on track days and have a 'bad attitude' to women bikers in general. Which is probably all true. But it doesn't appear that these particular WIMA members are enjoying their bikes that much. They just seem to have something to prove. 'Look at us! We're women! On motorbikes!'

Now I'm not a woman, so I don't know what it's like to have to stand up for yourself on the road. It must be hard and I'm sure these girls have a valid point, but if I were them I'd relax a bit more and learn to ignore men. In fact, If I were a woman I'd probably just stay at home and bake cakes. What bliss.

To conclude then. Heterosexual men are the reason for the existence of these minority groups. If we weren't all so aggressive and fearful of our own sexuality, gay men and women could ride along with us without fear of being mocked or overtaken. Motorcycling would be an equal and harmonious pursuit free from competitiveness. It would be a glorious multi-pronged partnership. But it'll never happen. Unusual partnerships may be great, but they never last...