Who is Liza Miller? Liza Miller is an AMA award-winning motorcyclist, founder of the Re-Cycle Garage co-op in Santa Cruz, and host of the Motorcycles and Misfits podcast. For over 18 years, she has been a leading voice in motorcycle culture, focusing on community building, DIY maintenance, and international adventure riding.

I have interviewed riders across all types of disciplines, and one thing remains consistent, it is never about the bike. It’s about the people who show up, the risks they’re willing to take, and the quiet decision to just… start.

Liza Miller doesn’t wait for permission, she opens her garage… every Sunday.

No sign-in sheet. No waiver. No plan. Just a handful of chairs, a pile of 10mm sockets, and an open door.

At first, it was one or two people, someone wrenching on a project, someone else just looking for a place to be. Then it became three. Then ten. Then a standing ritual. Eighteen years later, that same garage, small enough that you have to duck to walk in, has turned into one of the longest-running co-op motorcycle spaces in the country. (she has an award from the AMA to prove it) 

There’s something deceptively simple about what she built, and there is only one rule…don’t put your shit on a chair.“ An empty seat is an invitation. A chair covered in gear is a signal to keep moving. It’s one small detail, but it is what turned a garage into a community.

But her co-op is only part of the story, Liza has a long list of motorcycle stories, we only had time to cover a few, so we started with her trip to Pakistan. 

Ask most people about riding there and you’ll get the same answer: it’s too dangerous. An answer that will be given while sitting behind a keyboard and having never visited. But Liza isn’t interested in narratives built from a distance. She wants to see for herself.

What she found was that parts of Pakistan are dangerous, just like parts of the US are dangerous, but the danger in Pakistan was not what the internet had warned her about. 

It wasn’t chaos. It wasn’t hostility. It was a poorly timed arrival to a road that just had a land slide. Construction crews were stopping cars, but motorcycles can fit anywhere, so the crew just waved the riders through. With an expectation that they would know what to expect, but even a prepared rider has to be ready when teams are blasting rock and riders pick their way through falling debris. 

There are no cones. No guardrails. No one is holding your hand.

Just you, the bike, and the understanding that you’re responsible for getting through it.

And for Liza, that’s the point.

It’s the kind of danger that used to exist everywhere, drinking from the garden hose, playing in ditches, jumping off sketchy wood piles you called a ramp. That is the kind of danger that makes you feel alive because you have to be present. Not fear-driven, but awareness-driven.

An awareness that allows for you to be present in the moments that are not chaotic. Typically she finds the perception her fellow riders carried in, disappears quickly. 

As you ride through towns, people invite you in for tea. Refusing money. Thanking you for being there. 

It’s why those trips exist in the first place, not just as an adventure, but as a way to reshape understanding. One rider at a time.

And then Liza did what she always does, she pushed it further.

She realized that as a woman, she wasn’t getting access to the full story. So she changed the format. Built all-women trips. Opened doors that wouldn’t have been accessible otherwise. Schools. Factories. Conversations with women who otherwise wouldn’t connect with them because the riding groups were mixed and cultural norms did not allow for it. 

And just by showing up, by riding through villages, by existing visibly on two wheels, something else started happening.

Local women began to imagine themselves doing the same, no one was telling them to try it, or even suggesting they consider it, but because they saw it was possible. 

That’s the thread that runs through everything Liza does.

From a garage in Santa Cruz to mountain roads halfway across the world, it’s the same idea repeated in different forms: Build something real and invite people in.

Most people are waiting for the perfect setup. The right space. The right funding. The right moment.

Liza just opens the door.

And every time, people show up.

Which brings us to her podcast, Liza is the host and producer of Motorcycles and Misfits, a long-running show centered around motorcycle culture, stories, and the people who live inside it. When we spoke she had just put out episode 666. The podcast has grown into one of the most recognized voices in the space, built on real conversations rather than polished production.

The show leans into the same philosophy as everything else she does, community first. It’s the kind of podcast you don’t just listen to, you feel like you’re sitting in on it.

Takeaways…. 

  • For new riders: You don’t need the perfect bike or setup, start where you are, show up, and learn alongside people who are willing to open the door.

  • For experienced riders: The best riding isn’t about the next upgrade, it’s about pushing into new environments, building community, and staying curious enough to keep evolving.

  • For all of us: The real value of motorcycles isn’t the machine, it’s the people you meet, the risks you choose to take, and the stories that come from simply saying yes.

If you want to get involved with the rides mentioned in Liza’s stories, you can find more information here - https://adifferentagenda.com/

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