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?
Excerpt:
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.
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