In the summer of 1916 women do not have the right to vote, let alone be motorcycle dispatch riders. Two sisters, Angeline and Adelaide Hanson are determined to prove to the world that not only are women capable of riding motorbikes, but they can ride motorbikes across the United States. Alone.
From a dance hall in Chicago to a jail cell in Dodge City, love and trouble both follow Angeline and Adelaide on the dirt roads across the United States. The sisters shout their triumph from Pike’s Peak only to end up lost in the Salt Lake desert.
Will they make it to their goal of Los Angeles or will too many mishaps prevent them from reaching their destination and thus, hinder their desire to prove that women can do it?
There was a twinkle in Francisco’s eyes as he looked the women up and down, taking in their dirty riding attire and the motorbikes behind them.
“We are just moving some of our caballos and mules to a more desirable location,” he said smoothly. “You must be the famous sisters riding to Los Angeles and getting into muchas problemas!” He laughed boisterously and, turning to the conversing men waiting on their horses and mules behind him, said something in Spanish to them all. The men began laughing and slapping their thighs with their large hats.
Angeline didn’t like this and stepped forward. “What are you saying?” she demanded.
Francisco gestured for his men to be quiet. “I read your American papers. You are quite famous. You brought trouble upon a man with many wives.” He shook his head and raised his hands in the air as though in supplication. “More than one espousa. Por que? Hombre loco!”
The men behind him roared their approval once again. Finished with his antics, Francisco turned a serious face to the women in front of him. “Crazy man, I say. One woman is enough.” He held up a single digit. “Any more woman than that, and I would be drowning in my José Cuervo!”
The men behind him began yelling amongst themselves, and Angeline had no idea what they were saying but decided it sounded rather bawdy and thus related to women and a man named José, and it seemed harmless enough. The men looked dirty and disheveled, and she noted they carried weapons, but the man called Francisco was smiling and did not seem to intend them harm, so she permitted herself to relax.