Passmore. It’s my family name – the name I was born with. The name my father gave me. When I had to create a team name, I wanted to pay homage to the heritage to which I owe so much. That heritage - that legacy - is the product of a father that built bikes in the living room of our house. The one who taught me to ride. The one who ignited a dream within me to build a life around motorcycles – something he never got the chance to do.  

PM represents finding that inner racer in all of us. It’s about embracing opportunity no matter the obstacle and conquering challenges to reach the finish line. It all comes down to reaching our goals and shattering personal limits. So, keep it swift, steady and remember that leaning a little sideways is always a good thing.

Passmore Motorcycles is an initiative that doesn’t idle. We aim to continuously grow and adapt to the needs of both our team and the industry. The beauty of starting from nothing is the possibilities that come with uncertainty.

The team at Passmore Motorcycles hopes to one day bring you custom parts, merchandise and events. And we want to be there when your next desire or dream for a bike strikes.

So, while this “business” is the brainchild of one woman on a quest to do her father justice, the team behind it is the engine for the growth ahead. A growth that will, hopefully, inspire others to chase the very same dreams.





I grew up with my dad building bikes in the living room of our house. My baby photos are me sitting on rat bikes and choppers. After a while, it just became instinctual. I favored the smell of grease over flowers.

My dad put me on a Honda 50 when I was 4 and I never looked back. We would spend summers in his garage taking apart bikes, polishing all the pieces and putting them back together. He would handle each piece as if it were a rare and ancient artifact all while telling me what it’s function was and how it related to life. He was quite the philosopher and, at the time, it was annoying to me as pre-teen little girl. Once I got older I began to appreciate his life lessons more, especially when we would ride to biker events together. When I started announcing for Supercross and Motocross races, I would bring my dad with me. To continue the family tradition, I bought my son a Honda 50 on his 4th birthday.

My father passed away in the summer of 2008. I was devastated. I rode his Softail to the funeral and then never got on a bike again until the spring of 2014. It’s crazy to think that before his death my life was consumed with a motorcycle race every weekend, dealers’ conventions, motorcycle events and just riding. But I suddenly found myself unable to go to any of those things.

I decided to change my life completely. I moved to NYC and became the director of Marketing and PR at a Fortune 500 Company. The stage was set for me to be the next powerful lady in business. But it just wasn’t me. After five years of being on autopilot, I woke up. I moved to back Florida to find myself again.

In March 2014, I took my son to Daytona Supercross. The smell of the exhaust and dirt, the excitement on my little boy’s face as he watched the race only assured me of where I belong. The ride home was emotional but I knew what I had to do. The next day I rented a Thruxton, rode 300 miles to a motorcycle event and bought my dad a patch to place on his grave. The following week I purchased my Iron 883, and now I ride all over the country. I was afraid that riding would be too unbearable to not share it with my father, but strangely I feel closer now to him than I ever did. And that’s one of the great things about motorcycles: they’re more than a form of transportation... they're a form of transformation.

Currently I'm a journalist for some of the top motorcycle magazines and blogs. Every day I get to test parts, gear, and motorcycles and write about it. I am also in the process of getting my MSF Rider Coach Certification and have an all-women’s traveling class planned for 2017 along with a 5,000-mile trip through the northeast of US. On a daily basis, I ride with an all-women, all-Harley riding group called The Iron Lilies.



● 2001/1992 Harley Davidson 1200 Sportster