Sharine Milne believes there is a story behind the way somebody walks.
The 45-year-old mechanic, known as Spanner, said she could tell a lot about somebody's injury or disability when they wheeled a motorcycle into her Townsville workshop.
That is when she gets her hands "dirty and greasy" finding a unique way to modify her customer's ride to their physical needs.
"There's a lot more to take into consideration than you think," Ms Milne said.
"We set their bikes up properly in the first place, so that they don't have to go through too much hassle buying three, four or five different sets of handlebars or seats."
Holding a torch between her teeth as she tinkers with wires and screws, her latest project involves reworking a bike for a customer with an amputated leg and broken ankle.
"When you've only got one leg to start off with, that means you're completely out of action," Ms Milne said.
"We're putting an electronic shift on his bike, so that he can actually shift with his hand rather than using his foot and his ankle."
Mastering an art form
It was 20 years ago when Ms Milne, an Indigenous single mother, left a job in hospitality and retrained as a mechanic to spend more time with her young daughter.
"I was born with a physical disability, which meant that if I wasn't careful with what I did … I would not be walking," she said.
"We don't believe in saying they are disabilities. They're called, 'life injuries'.
"We all like to misbehave a little bit here and there and some of these things have given us a long-term reminder of our mischief."
She said it could take anywhere between one day to 18 months to complete the most complex modifications, but it was an art form to make the changes look like a natural extension of the bike.
"It means they get that sense of normalcy like everyone else without standing out when they sometimes really don't want to," Ms Milne said.
Reigniting a passion for riding
For veterans like Steven "Macca" McLenson, riding his motorcycle helps him unwind.
The 54-year-old was left with post-traumatic stress disorder and physical injuries when he was discharged from the Australian Defence Force in 2012 following tours to East Timor and Iraq.
His assistance dog, Sasha, has been by his side for 14 years and Mr McLenson said leaving her behind when he rode was not an option.
"I rely on her as support for post-trauma," he said.
"It breaks down the barriers with the public. It helps me de-stress and brings down the anxiety.
"I probably wouldn't be where I am today — with much better physical and mental health — without her support. We've done everything together."
After hearing about Ms Milne's workshop through a local veteran's network, the pair are working on sketches to customise his bike.
"We had to bring the idea of having a carrier or some sort of fixture on the back of the bike so that [Sasha] could come with me everywhere," Mr McLenson said.
He said the alterations would give him the confidence to travel and connect with other veterans.
"I'm going to feel real freedom… we can just both enjoy the wind in our hair and just go places," Mr McLenson said.
Coming to terms with trauma
Ms Milne said she had lost count of the number of people she had helped over the years to rediscover their love of motorcycle riding.
She added that the process of re-fitting a bike helped customers talk openly and come to terms with past trauma — an ongoing process that could take years.
"Being of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander descent, yarning has always been part and parcel of my history," Ms Milne said.
"One of our guys who lost his leg on a motorcycle … we got him back on the bike that actually took his leg.
"I don't want their bikes in my shop for forever and a day … I want them out riding."
