Laugh while you can, monkey-boys.
When I began riding a scooter three years ago, I got a lot of reaction – positive and otherwise. I remember laughter being involved on occasion. Actually a lot. Most of the reaction was aired before folks even saw the bike. A lot of thinking was based on the notion that scooters are what Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels rode in the movie “Dumb and Dumber”. Motorcycling buddies virtually slapped me upside my head asking, “Why not a real bike?” Bicycling buddies virtually slapped me upside my head asking, “Why not a real bike?” My wifed warned me, “You’ll put an eye out with that thing.”
They laughed when I sat on the saddle, but when I began to play…
What my detractors finally saw was not a tiny, mini-bike powered by a model airplane engine but a full-sized, street bike in a rare class of motorized two-wheelers known as “maxi-scooters” over seven and a half foot long and weighing over 450 pounds when filled with gas and ready to ride – bigger and more massive than many real sport motorcycles. Inside a 400 cubic centimeter engine has enough power to propel me and the bike to highway speed and beyond. At least a few observers dismissed the “Dumber” part of the thought if not the “Dumb” part. Still, though, a scooter.
For many it was a silly mode of conveyance that missed the mark of real motor-biking thrills but with all the risk. It exposed me to the slings and arrows of the “caged” world but provided no street “cred.” Neither car nor motorcycle operator would accept this new creature on the roadways. I was different. Oh yeah. And mostly loving it.
Today I had to find a part for the scooter so I went to the motorcycle shop. I thought I’d look over the scooter offerings. The sales guy (they’re always guys) told me he had none in stock, couldn’t keep any in stock despite increased production, and the next few shipments were already spoken for. This goes a way in explaining the sudden interest in my bike and offers to buy it at a price far more than I paid in 2005.
In the world of near five-dollar gasoline, it seems a fair number of folks have been enlightened. And as they have explored alternate forms of transportation and finding motorcycles a significant commitment, the idea of a maxi-scooter and all its advantages and amenities suddenly become apparent. It mostly has to do with the distinction between a scooter and a typical motorcycle.
While a motorcycle requires manual shifting involving coordinated movements of a hand-lever and a foot-operated lever, a scooter’s transmission gearing is handled automatically. The scooter rider simply twists the hand throttle to control speed. Another distinction of the scooter is a long footboard with an infinite number of places for the rider to position feet. On the other hand (under the other foot?) at best, a motorcycle has a short floorboard, most have only pegs on each side on which the rider’s feet rest. Mounting a scooter mean stepping through the frame. Mounting a motorcycle requires throwing a leg over the frame. A scooter typically has built-in storage for as many as two, full-face helmets. Without adding optional boxes or bags, a motorcycle has little to no storage area. A scooter’s brakes are controlled with hand-levers very similar to bicycles. A motocycle’s brakes are controlled by a hand lever and a foot lever. The scooter is a great pick for someone looking for practical transportation. A motorcycle will get you there. And with its efficient engine and transmission, a scooter will get you there at a gas sipping rate of about 55 to 80 miles per gallon depending on the model and, at least for my scoot, at speeds that may or may not exceed the highway speed limit – in Germany. My little ride is a Suzuki Burgman – the name means “City Man” playing off the Japanese marketing impetus to name personal items with some sort of personification suffix. Remember the Walk Man and Game Boy?
In places around the world where scooters are the norm, people have already figured out you don’t need 290 horsepower and two-and-a-half tons of steel, rubber, and glass to move 150 pounds of payload comfortably, quickly and with style.
Yes, I said style, my boxed-in, large carbon-footed friends. The classic scooter, typical of what folks call generically, a “Vespa”, continues to have a clean, retro, even art deco look that never has gone out of fashion. However, more than ten years ago, Suzuki and then a number of other manufacturers, began offering larger, more contemporarily styled scooters that appealed to European, Japanese and, quickly, American urban professionals who saw an appealing commuting alternative. With more muscle, more storage space, sport-bike like styling, saddles for two-riders, and near zero learning curve, savvy commuters realized the maxi-scooter advantage. This class of bike was not intended for those who believed a motor-powered two-wheeler had to look and sound “just so.” No V-twin, ground-pounding, ear-splitting hawg rider or multi-hued dressed, rice rocket aficionado would look twice at a maxi-scooter nor were they supposed to. The maxi-scooter was aimed at those who wanted a practical, economical, fast and unique way of getting around. And without the attendant lifestyle commitment expected of riders of other types of power bikes. No tattoos, leather fringe, $1100 body suits or knee pucks required, thank you.
Today’s ride to work embodies everything positive about maxi-scoots. I pulled the bike out of its parking space on the side of the house which is nothing more than a two and a half foot wide sidewalk. No taking up space or blocking the driveway. In the under saddle storage space I placed my full-sized brief case, lunch, and some gym gear. I skipped up to the head of the line at every light – lane splitting is OK in California. I passed all the cars waiting for the on-ramp metering lights on the HOV lane and zipped unto the freeway unimpeded and made my way to the carpool lane where I cranked it up a notch so that I “matched” traffic speed. Honest officer. Motorcyclists hate it when I pass them so every one of them invariably has to pass me farther down the highway. You go guy! Don’t let my step-through block your testosterone. I stopped at the grocery store to pick up a loaf of bread, some milk and a jar of jam. Which all got stored under the seat. I cruised into the work parking lot, opened the door and cruised INSIDE our warehouse styled building without even bothering to look if there was an available parking space in the lot. Total time of transit: 21 minutes. Normal time had I been driving a car: 43 minutes. And did I mention my 3 gallon gas tank takes regular which I fill up about once a week?
But, really, the best part of riding a maxi-scooter is that it’s, and I mean really, fun. There’s enough oomph in the engine, enough spirit in the handling, and enough wind in your face to give you a sense of power and control without feeling guilty about sucking the life out of the planet in fuel depletion and in warming the globe. Even when you push it from 0 to 60 MPH in under six seconds, it’s a steady and settled rush. Yet, it seems, all fun has its price.
The Burgman’s single cylinder thumps just enough to remind you you’re no longer on a bicycle but not enough to raise the attention of the bozo on the cell phone in the Chevy Subdivision next to you. So you dart about nearly silently with the mindset that everyone on the road is trying to kill you. That mindset keeps you safe and alive. And a few motorists notice and may even think that not all two-wheelers are nuts – especially after listening to the traffic news reporting a motorcyclist down. And, yes, it IS that clown wearing nothing but shorts and a grimmace doing wheelies up Highway 880 who gets clobbered and not the responsible rider with both hands on the bar and both wheels on the ground. It’s funny how perceptions take their course. A buddy makes it clear to me that I’m crazy to ride a scooter in traffic. And he’s letting me know as he’s honing a lawn mower blade with the power grinder’s shield removed and he’s not wearing eye protection. A neighbor tells me “I would never ride a motorcycle. They’re too dangerous.” Yet, he rides a bicycle without wearing a helmet. A Harley rider challenges my riding gear, “It’s a scooter. Why the boots, leather jacket and full-face helmet?” I mention the obvious, “It doesn’t matter if you’re riding a Harley, a Honda or a Huffy. When you hit the asphalt at 60 MPH, it will try to eat you up just the same.” I’ve sky-dived, ski raced, and played hockey. Yet I don’t do anything “un-safe.” Measured consequences, measured risks. Is riding risky? Certainly it’s riskier than driving a car but not because riding a scooter itself is dangerous. It’s the stooge in the car who creates the danger. Know that and you can manage.
A couple of cars sit in my garage. One, the wife drives just enough to keep the battery charged. The other one is far more economical but doesn’t get driven much. The trips to the grocery store are atop the scooter or a tandem bicycle. Sometime we walk. Remember that? There’s something about NOT driving solo in a car that’s both liberating and refreshing. I call shenanigans on folks who insist they “need” a car for all their trips. In my case I’m glad I’m kinda against the car culture. It gets me on the two-wheeled vehicles more.
They laughed when I sat on the saddle, but when I began to play…
What my detractors finally saw was not a tiny, mini-bike powered by a model airplane engine but a full-sized, street bike in a rare class of motorized two-wheelers known as “maxi-scooters” over seven and a half foot long and weighing over 450 pounds when filled with gas and ready to ride – bigger and more massive than many real sport motorcycles. Inside a 400 cubic centimeter engine has enough power to propel me and the bike to highway speed and beyond. At least a few observers dismissed the “Dumber” part of the thought if not the “Dumb” part. Still, though, a scooter.
For many it was a silly mode of conveyance that missed the mark of real motor-biking thrills but with all the risk. It exposed me to the slings and arrows of the “caged” world but provided no street “cred.” Neither car nor motorcycle operator would accept this new creature on the roadways. I was different. Oh yeah. And mostly loving it.
Today I had to find a part for the scooter so I went to the motorcycle shop. I thought I’d look over the scooter offerings. The sales guy (they’re always guys) told me he had none in stock, couldn’t keep any in stock despite increased production, and the next few shipments were already spoken for. This goes a way in explaining the sudden interest in my bike and offers to buy it at a price far more than I paid in 2005.
In the world of near five-dollar gasoline, it seems a fair number of folks have been enlightened. And as they have explored alternate forms of transportation and finding motorcycles a significant commitment, the idea of a maxi-scooter and all its advantages and amenities suddenly become apparent. It mostly has to do with the distinction between a scooter and a typical motorcycle.
While a motorcycle requires manual shifting involving coordinated movements of a hand-lever and a foot-operated lever, a scooter’s transmission gearing is handled automatically. The scooter rider simply twists the hand throttle to control speed. Another distinction of the scooter is a long footboard with an infinite number of places for the rider to position feet. On the other hand (under the other foot?) at best, a motorcycle has a short floorboard, most have only pegs on each side on which the rider’s feet rest. Mounting a scooter mean stepping through the frame. Mounting a motorcycle requires throwing a leg over the frame. A scooter typically has built-in storage for as many as two, full-face helmets. Without adding optional boxes or bags, a motorcycle has little to no storage area. A scooter’s brakes are controlled with hand-levers very similar to bicycles. A motocycle’s brakes are controlled by a hand lever and a foot lever. The scooter is a great pick for someone looking for practical transportation. A motorcycle will get you there. And with its efficient engine and transmission, a scooter will get you there at a gas sipping rate of about 55 to 80 miles per gallon depending on the model and, at least for my scoot, at speeds that may or may not exceed the highway speed limit – in Germany. My little ride is a Suzuki Burgman – the name means “City Man” playing off the Japanese marketing impetus to name personal items with some sort of personification suffix. Remember the Walk Man and Game Boy?
In places around the world where scooters are the norm, people have already figured out you don’t need 290 horsepower and two-and-a-half tons of steel, rubber, and glass to move 150 pounds of payload comfortably, quickly and with style.
Yes, I said style, my boxed-in, large carbon-footed friends. The classic scooter, typical of what folks call generically, a “Vespa”, continues to have a clean, retro, even art deco look that never has gone out of fashion. However, more than ten years ago, Suzuki and then a number of other manufacturers, began offering larger, more contemporarily styled scooters that appealed to European, Japanese and, quickly, American urban professionals who saw an appealing commuting alternative. With more muscle, more storage space, sport-bike like styling, saddles for two-riders, and near zero learning curve, savvy commuters realized the maxi-scooter advantage. This class of bike was not intended for those who believed a motor-powered two-wheeler had to look and sound “just so.” No V-twin, ground-pounding, ear-splitting hawg rider or multi-hued dressed, rice rocket aficionado would look twice at a maxi-scooter nor were they supposed to. The maxi-scooter was aimed at those who wanted a practical, economical, fast and unique way of getting around. And without the attendant lifestyle commitment expected of riders of other types of power bikes. No tattoos, leather fringe, $1100 body suits or knee pucks required, thank you.
Today’s ride to work embodies everything positive about maxi-scoots. I pulled the bike out of its parking space on the side of the house which is nothing more than a two and a half foot wide sidewalk. No taking up space or blocking the driveway. In the under saddle storage space I placed my full-sized brief case, lunch, and some gym gear. I skipped up to the head of the line at every light – lane splitting is OK in California. I passed all the cars waiting for the on-ramp metering lights on the HOV lane and zipped unto the freeway unimpeded and made my way to the carpool lane where I cranked it up a notch so that I “matched” traffic speed. Honest officer. Motorcyclists hate it when I pass them so every one of them invariably has to pass me farther down the highway. You go guy! Don’t let my step-through block your testosterone. I stopped at the grocery store to pick up a loaf of bread, some milk and a jar of jam. Which all got stored under the seat. I cruised into the work parking lot, opened the door and cruised INSIDE our warehouse styled building without even bothering to look if there was an available parking space in the lot. Total time of transit: 21 minutes. Normal time had I been driving a car: 43 minutes. And did I mention my 3 gallon gas tank takes regular which I fill up about once a week?
But, really, the best part of riding a maxi-scooter is that it’s, and I mean really, fun. There’s enough oomph in the engine, enough spirit in the handling, and enough wind in your face to give you a sense of power and control without feeling guilty about sucking the life out of the planet in fuel depletion and in warming the globe. Even when you push it from 0 to 60 MPH in under six seconds, it’s a steady and settled rush. Yet, it seems, all fun has its price.
The Burgman’s single cylinder thumps just enough to remind you you’re no longer on a bicycle but not enough to raise the attention of the bozo on the cell phone in the Chevy Subdivision next to you. So you dart about nearly silently with the mindset that everyone on the road is trying to kill you. That mindset keeps you safe and alive. And a few motorists notice and may even think that not all two-wheelers are nuts – especially after listening to the traffic news reporting a motorcyclist down. And, yes, it IS that clown wearing nothing but shorts and a grimmace doing wheelies up Highway 880 who gets clobbered and not the responsible rider with both hands on the bar and both wheels on the ground. It’s funny how perceptions take their course. A buddy makes it clear to me that I’m crazy to ride a scooter in traffic. And he’s letting me know as he’s honing a lawn mower blade with the power grinder’s shield removed and he’s not wearing eye protection. A neighbor tells me “I would never ride a motorcycle. They’re too dangerous.” Yet, he rides a bicycle without wearing a helmet. A Harley rider challenges my riding gear, “It’s a scooter. Why the boots, leather jacket and full-face helmet?” I mention the obvious, “It doesn’t matter if you’re riding a Harley, a Honda or a Huffy. When you hit the asphalt at 60 MPH, it will try to eat you up just the same.” I’ve sky-dived, ski raced, and played hockey. Yet I don’t do anything “un-safe.” Measured consequences, measured risks. Is riding risky? Certainly it’s riskier than driving a car but not because riding a scooter itself is dangerous. It’s the stooge in the car who creates the danger. Know that and you can manage.
A couple of cars sit in my garage. One, the wife drives just enough to keep the battery charged. The other one is far more economical but doesn’t get driven much. The trips to the grocery store are atop the scooter or a tandem bicycle. Sometime we walk. Remember that? There’s something about NOT driving solo in a car that’s both liberating and refreshing. I call shenanigans on folks who insist they “need” a car for all their trips. In my case I’m glad I’m kinda against the car culture. It gets me on the two-wheeled vehicles more.
posted by sweeper at 2:19 PM
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