I've complained before about how driving a motorcycle in Boston can be a frustrating affair, even a bike as small as Kawasaki's Ninja 250. As much as I am enjoying my bicycle (and I am!) I've become addicted to engines and I enjoy the speed and freedom a motorized bike provides when I'm not actually stuck in gridlock. I haven't always driven a motorcycle. I'm a scooter man from way back.
I started off, many years ago on a 50cc Honda Elite four stroke, and I've driven many a 50cc Honda Metropolitan to Death's doorstep. It wasn't until I got a Genuine Stella, however at 150cc, that I needed a motorcycle license.
The Stella and I had a love-hate relationship. It had style. It had a spare tire. The technology was antiquated enough I could figure things out and fix them myself. There are any number of chrome accessories available that I bolted on like a character from the classic scooter film "Quadrophenia" though I didn't dress the part, which isn't to say I am not fashion-obsessed. The downsides were that the scooter is made in India and subcontinental engineering justly doesn't have the reputation of Japanese. While there aren't any plastic parts on a Stella, the whole thing is machined out of a solid block of pig iron. It is heavy. Then again, it had style and chicks dug it.
Like many people, including the Boston Globe, I've been thinking a long time that a motor scooter is the best way to get around our shared metropolitan area and I'm thinking something bigger than 50cc will be more up my alley, spoiled by power as I am. I was headed home on Old Colony Avenue today and I passed Scooters Go Green. What was parked out front but a beautiful avocado Stella... I had to make a tight U-ey over cobblestoned over trolley tracks for a personal inspection. Yeah, the scooter bug bit me again confronted with a replica of my old, trusty steed that gave me more scars on my knees than I can count and dislocated my shoulder. This one had white wall tires and was painted a darker shade of green.
I went into the shop and took a brochure. No shop talk. "This is all I need," I said and I left. Had we discussed the Stella and its price, I am afraid they would have reeled me in with the hook in my mouth. I'm still on the fence. I'm not ready to give up the Ninja and I don't really need two bikes (three counting the one with pedals). Though inexpensive by most standards, I'll be racking up bills for crash bars and other accessories.
My life may be about to get more complicated and if there is anything I don't like it's complications that contain more headache than mischief. Hopefully this reactivation of my scoot-fever will die down if I don't think about it too much. The brochure is within easy reach though.
A tip of the fedora and gratitude to April Streeter (from Sweden!) on treehugger.com for quoting my recent article about sharing the road and providing both attribution and a link. That's professional and we here at Whalehead Enterprises appreciate it.
It's not that great a movie but the final scene scooting along the White Cliffs of Dover feels like many a trip I've taken in other places.
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