A rush of adrenaline floods through Tina Weber's body as "Mine Again” by Zach Bryan blasts from her speakers. The rumble of the engine of her motorcycle fills the air.
For Weber, riding her Harley Nighthawk motorcycle is freedom. She observes glimmers of light and how the natural world changes daily. She loves the feel of the air. Every time she rides, she puts out her hand to feel it rush past.
Yet the shadows of her past intrude. The haunting memories of a painful childhood riddled with instability and traumatic experiences come up in bits.
“When I ride my motorcycle, the bad day doesn't matter anymore,” she said. “In those moments, I transform from Tina into ‘Bubbles’ — a badass.”
For Weber, riding is healing. It’s how she deals with the mental health struggles that developed from childhood, motherhood and past relationships. Riding has been especially important as Weber pushes through diverticulitis, a gastrointestinal disease, and underwent surgery for it this summer.
Dreams of the road
Weber, 54, grew up in Des Peres and now lives in Collinsville. After her parents divorced when she was 9, Weber found herself in challenging situations, including spending time in juvenile detention.
Even as a child, she had an interest in motorcycling.
“When I was 9 years old, I asked for a Harley Davidson jean jacket and motorcycle boots for my birthday," she said, "always had motorcycles in my system."
Weber’s ex-husband, Mike, introduced her to riding, but his recklessness left her frightened as she was learning. He encouraged her to get her motorcycle license and even surprised her with a bike of her own.
“I dreamed about it my whole life,” Weber said.
Her whole life, Weber said, she had felt like an outsider. But, in the motorcycle community, she found her chosen family which she calls the "brotherhood from the misunderstood." She says the members support one another deeply. “We are all so different but have the same common bond of the bike, and the freedom and all that it encompasses," she said of the broader motorcycle culture.
Since 2021, Weber has been an ambassador for the Missouri and Illinois chapters of the Litas women's motorcycle collective. Weber said she values the organization's mission to lift up and encourage women to get into riding motorcycles.
![Tina Weber holds an ostrich feather she found on Saturday, Aug. 10, 2024, at Salger’s Ostrich Products in Red Bud, Illinois. “[ A feather] represents freedom, good luck, and angels watching over me,” she said. “I live in faith — it is my everything.”](https://npr.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/65c2568/2147483647/strip/true/crop/3000x2000+0+0/resize/840x560!/format/webp/quality/90/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fnpr-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2Ff1%2F4e%2Fac88f85e4c6d9f0f5e3f792f5cfe%2F102324-sp-tina-6.jpg)
Finding Bubbles
Weber stepped into the motorcycling community not as Tina but as Bubbles.
She got the nickname in 1999 when she took a medical leave from her job at MotoMart — a local gas station. When she returned, regular customers commented that she brought a joyful energy, calling her “the champagne in the morning.”
Whenever Weber is out in the biking community, her Bubbles personality comes out. But off the motorcycle, there’s something hidden under her smile.
“I feel like Bubbles is a mask for me,” Weber said. “When I am Bubbles, no one asks me if I am OK […] to avoid questions from people, wondering how I am doing — I am Bubbles.”
Weber feels tormented by the abuse she suffered as a child. She said she was molested by many of the adults who should have protected her. That’s had resounding effects on her life.
“My whole life I struggled with seeing the worth in me,” she said. “When I turned 50 […] I feel like ‘man, I wasted a lot of f------ time. You’re worth it, you are worth it.’”
At moments like that, Weber turns to “wind therapy,” a term used among some motorcyclists that encapsulates the healing nature of the activity.
Through “wind therapy,” riding became a powerful source of healing for Weber. Each ride helps her reclaim her identity and freedom.
"I always had this dream of riding across the country on the back of a motorcycle,” she said. “Never did I think I would ride my own. But that's what's happening."
Life off the bike
This summer, Weber had to go weeks without riding as she dealt with a chronic health condition and the subsequent surgery for it.
Since her early twenties, Weber has been suffering on and off with diverticulitis, a digestive disorder that inflames small pouches that form in the walls of the large intestine. She was wrongfully diagnosed for years.
Her pain became more severe over the last two years and weighed heavily on her mental health. It was increasingly difficult for Weber to enjoy her rides.
On Aug. 12, Weber finally underwent surgery that lasted nearly nine hours due to extensive damage and scar tissue from waiting so long to treat her diverticulitis properly. Initially, the surgery was expected to last two to four hours.
When Weber woke up, her mother was by her side, and she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the surgery.
“It took away years of my life,” she said. “I missed a lot of work because of that disease.”
The recovery was challenging and made Weber reevaluate her life. Though the doctor estimated it would take two to four weeks, she returned to work after five weeks. The first 10 days were especially brutal.
The day Weber left the hospital, her ex-boyfriend Mark Blaylock provided support but left once she started regaining her strength. Her daughter Samantha took on a majority of her care, which was difficult for Weber.
“I am not patient. It was very hard,” she said. “I felt like I was nagging when I told people I needed help.”
As her recovery progressed, Weber began to appreciate the assistance. “What I keep trying to remember is that trusting people is crucial,” she said.
Before surgery, Weber thought the hardest part would be not riding her motorcycle. But discovered she did not miss her bike as much as she anticipated since she mentally prepared for the situation. She still had moments of frustration and the absence in her life left her feeling depressed.
Weber has since gotten back on the bike and rode around her house and neighborhood, which has begun to bring back a sense of freedom to her mind and body.
The time away from her bike has made Weber realize her vision for life has changed and a focus has deepened on ensuring she isn't injuring herself. The future is uncertain, Weber said, and now is thinking about buying a smaller bike or saving up for a motorhome.
That means selling her Nighthawk — something Weber said would be unimaginable. But now, she’s open to change.
“I struggle with thinking too much of my future,” she said. “I feel like I've done a lot, more than most people — seen and felt more than most."
