50 years ago, a gang of 25 lesbian motorcyclists harnessed the power of leather jackets, butch haircuts, and the reverberating hum of motorbikes to clear the path for the 1976 San Francisco Pride Parade. Serving as bodyguards safeguarding marchers from harm, their presence provided a level of badass energy that made headlines.
After the San Francisco Chronicle casually identified the group as the ‘Dykes on Bikes’, founding member Soni Wolf decided to make it official. She successfully advocated to have the name trademarked with the US Patent and Trademark Office, and Dykes on Bikes was born.
The original mother chapter assembled in Amelia’s, San Francisco’s lesbian bar, until it closed in 1991. They now meet in the neighbouring Eagle Tavern and have been leading Pride parades, organising charity events, and fostering a sense of protection and inclusion for more vulnerable members of the LGBTQ+ community ever since.
There are only about 20 official active chapters today, but with thousands of members worldwide, the work they do feels enormous. Known for their unapologetic visibility and anti-capitalist ideals, Dykes on Bikes are an incredibly inclusive group that use their presence to demand visibility and empowerment. Over the past five decades, chapters have continued to fight against state-sponsored homophobia and transphobia, leading change and fully embodying their power and dyke energy.
Local chapters often collaborate and join neighbouring cities for community rides and Pride events. In 2018, founding member Soni Wolf was named grand marshal of the San Francisco Pride Parade, but she sadly passed away in April of that year. To honour her legacy, the Queensland chapter organised an international trip to California to lead the parade alongside local Dykes on Bikes members in a powerful tribute to her memory.
Each year, Dykes on Bikes select a different LGBTQ+ charity to fundraise and endorse. Chapters have recently supported trans youth organisations, those experiencing homelessness, people with disabilities, women’s+ aid, and asylum seekers.
In 2023, when a local lesbian group attempted to host an event that explicitly excluded transgender women, Dykes on Bikes Melbourne took a powerful stance against their discriminatory transphobia and shared this official statement: “Our lesbian community is extremely vast and diverse, and that is a pillar of its strength. Without our trans sisters or queer elders, we would not have the freedoms and rights we celebrate today or the insight and knowledge for the challenges ahead.”
I had the pleasure of talking with the President of Dykes on Bikes Melbourne, Reah (they/she), about the Melbourne chapter and how standing up for trans rights has become ingrained in the work that they do.
Reah distinctly remembers the first time they spotted a few Dykes on Bikes on the corner in Sydney, Australia. Their immediate thought was, “I want to do that,” and they made it their personal mission to get a motorbike before the age of 30. She followed through, got her license, joined Sydney’s chapter, and started riding.
Then, life happened. She had a baby, sold her bike, and took a 10-year hiatus. But now, she’s back! She moved to Melbourne, joined their Dykes on Bikes chapter, and in the span of three years, became President.
Reah knows the risks and dangers that come with riding a motorbike, but she says something magical transpires when you’re riding in Mardi Gras in a pack of 300 bikers. “You feel untouchable when you’re in the pack,” they share. She also remembers previous President T-Rex describing it best: “These women were not asking for permission. They were the permission.”
They love knowing how everyone is constantly watching out for each other. Reah says they feel like “a rock star” in a big group, but in some ways, they prefer the smaller, regional parades where some people who have never seen a motorbike up close get to interact with Dykes on Bikes for the first time.
Reah fondly recalls a regional, country town in the western outback called Hay. It’s a middle point between Melbourne and Sydney, so Dykes on Bikes from both cities meet there. Even in these smaller, rural areas, people are “really keen to see us and the majority of the town is on board.” They love to see families come out and genuinely feel excited about the parades.
About 40 Dykes on Bikes made the trek to Hay this year, and Reah led the pack. “I remember just sitting at the front and looking in my mirror and hearing all these bikes behind me rev in, and it was very cool, very empowering.”
Seeing the parents and kids on the sidelines always makes Reah emotional. They share: “I have ADHD and I struggle to regulate my emotions,” so they always wear sunglasses because they know they will tear up when they see the supportive families cheering for them.
For many bikers, the best part about Dykes on Bikes is the indescribable community built on mutual admiration, connection, and respect.
Reah gushed about five-hour rides: “A bunch of us go up on a weekend and you bond on a different level. Since I’ve joined the Dykes on Bikes in Melbourne, I have found a really good core group of women that I now call family.”
Every year, the Melbourne chapter runs a weekend charity event. This year it was for Pride in Place, who helps displaced LGBTQ+ folks find housing.
“I just remember looking around thinking we pulled this event together… I said to my girlfriend, ‘God, I love these people. And I know I can rely on them for anything’.”
Reah also fondly remembers a night shoot when they had all the bikes lined up in a sunset viewing area surrounded by expansive flat lands and kangaroos: “As the sunlight was going, the ride coordinator got a 360 camera,” and Reah took to the road alongside the Vice President T-Rex.
They rode into town in a powerful “bonding moment” that remains one of their favourite memories. Reah recalls, “There were no words spoken… We just took up this space adjacent to each other the whole way.”
Of course there are challenging parts, too. We talked about how there are pockets of transphobia and homophobia everywhere and people carry out cowardly acts like ripping down rainbow streamers ahead of Pride. Reah assured me, “We’re not going to go because of that.”
While TERFs try to divide and intimidate LGBTQ+ spaces, Reah relishes how Dykes on Bikes are seen as “protectors of community.” She added, “Sometimes people forget we have our rights because of trans people. We stand on the shoulders of giants and those giants are our trans community members.”
Reah remembers times when former members hesitated to attend rallies for trans rights because they didn’t want to take a political stance, but inclusion is synonymous with Dykes on Bikes.
They shared, “I’m non-binary myself, and not strictly a lesbian. It’s not just that small cohort of lesbian anymore. We are a motorcycle group for women. All women.”
I asked Reah if she has a message for someone who is trans, non-binary, or genderqueer. She said: “You are loved and you are welcome and we will always stand with you.” She added, “I remember one of our trans members saying they joined because they want to feel safe. We will keep you safe.”
They continued: “I feel sorry for people who are spending time hating on a minority group instead of just embracing and loving what’s around you. Like how sad is your life?”
50 years later, Dykes on Bikes continue to fearlessly support and empower the queer community through riding motorbikes, organising charity events, leading Pride parades, and supporting LGBTQ+ education across Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and the US. Dykes on Bikes London became an official chapter in 2019, and new chapters will undoubtedly continue to form. Reah encourages everyone who feels called to get involved with Dykes on Bikes to connect with chapters on Instagram or reach out to local clubs. Even if you’re not into bikes, you can support your local Dykes on Bikes chapter. In some cities, including Melbourne, you don’t have to ride a bike to be a member.
“We call them LICs: lesbians in cars, and we love them because when we do big long trips they carry our stuff.” They have magnets for their cars that say ‘Dykes on Bikes Support Crew’.
It can feel defeating to see so much anti-LGBTQ+ hate cropping up, but joining an organisation like Dykes on Bikes is an incredibly powerful way to connect with like-minded people, get involved with charity events, and take a stand in protecting queer communities. Who knows, maybe Ireland will get its own chapter soon!