Recently I have been asked by several people why I'm getting rid of my motorcycles and vast collection of spare parts in order to replace them with a couple of scooters. I was at a loss for words in explaining why, since I really never gave it much thought. It is, after all, just something I want to do like going for a walk or read a book. After mulling the question over for awhile I've come to the conclusion that the two best words to describe my motivation are "FUN" and "PRACTICALITY".

FUN -

Throughout my life I've always had the most fun when simplicity was the key factor. For instance as a kid I loved to ride my bicycle. I rode it everywhere and did everything on it. It was my means of transportation and the vehicle by which I learned, first-hand, of the human body's fantastic ability to heal after injury. After all my bike was also used to catapult me into the air via ramps/jumps and careen off of trees with while trying to navigate winding downhill hiking trails at break-neck speeds. My bike was an old single speed, coaster braked, steel framed clunker... and it was fun. During my late teens and through most of my 20s I started riding bicycles competitively. I began buying expensive and very light components for my training and race bikes. I started getting wrapped up in the all consuming quest to pare down weight for the sake of speed and being more competitive. Eventually I had some damn expensive but pretty bikes with shiny jewel-like components. I was a good rider and was able to stay with "the big boys"... but I wasn't having much fun anymore. Although competitive cycling was my raison d'etre for such a long time I eventually gave up on it because it lost the enjoyment factor. While in my mid 40s I got back into cycling and am now riding an old Cannondale framed single speed ratbike fitted with fat mountain bike tires. I bought the bike for $20 at a yard sale. Most of it was stripped (and gouged) by the previous owner to bare aluminum using a wire wheel and I spent the better part of an hour cutting the "knobbies" off of the mountain bike tires to make them more road-worthy. I also disassembled the freewheel to remove all but one sprocket and added a chain tensioner to compensate for the frame's vertical dropouts. It's a cheap bike and a hell of a lot of fun to ride on my 20 mile loop from Butchertown to Shawnee park along Louisville's riverside trail (very much like the trail I used to ride along the Charles in Boston during the 80s). I'm having fun on bicycles again.

As for my motorized two wheeled vehicles I've owned various makes and models ranging in size from 49cc mopeds up to 750cc inline fours. I also road raced 175cc to 980cc motorcycles and you know what? They all were extremely fun to ride, tour the American roads and scrape knee pucks on but my fondest memories are of experiences aboard the smaller capacity bikes. For me smaller and simpler vehicles offer a better bang for the buck.

PRACTICALITY

I ride old bikes. Bikes that, at 650cc, were considered "large displacement" when they were produced. Bikes that actually got better gas mileage and yet were quicker than 99% of the cars on the road. My XS650s return anywhere from 55-60 mpg, a fantastic figure compared to most modern bikes that are technological marvels and are blindingly fast with superb handling characteristics but are cookie-cutter sterile looking and only as fuel efficient as the typical small car. In comparison to my XS650s, modern scooters are even more practical because they are relatively quick in acceleration and still return a +70 mpg level of economy. And the best thing about them is that they are "step-throughs", a trait that really adds to the level of practicality in that it offeres the rider better protection from the elements and road grime that gets kicked up by other vehicles in heavy traffic situations. In my line of work the dress policy usually is business attire... slacks, button-down shirt and tie. When riding a scooter I arrive at work clean as a whistle. On a motorcycle there were times I arrived with unexplainable black splotches on my slacks which, for obvious reasons, was very frustrating. Call me an aging old fart... call me what you will but a scooter is becoming a more and more sensible means of transportation for me and my lifestyle than a motorcycle.

ALSO...

Another thing you, the reader, must understand is that I loved racing motorcycles. I lived for it. If I wasn't at work making money to support my habit or at the track racing, I was in my garage designing and fabricating components. I was putting my entire being into building and improving my race bikes. Unless you've experienced the feeling, it is a very difficult thing to describe the whole racing experience adequately enough for you to understand the level of passion involved. My race bike was a part of me. I built it from the ground up. I made or modified every part of it by myself... it was an extension of me. To take it onto the track was nothing short of being a sexual-spiritual experience. Pulling out onto the track for a warm-up lap before a race was akin to the initial penetration of intercourse with a soul-mate... pure electricity, ecstacy and anticipation of the frantic adrenalin laden experience to follow, the calm before the storm. Unfortunately I had to accept the fact that I eventually got to the point in my life where I could no longer give the pursuit of road racing motorcycles my full attention. I couldn't give it everything I had, so with much trepidation and sorrow I decided it was best to part ways. To ease the heartbreak, I feel the need to purge most reminders of this past from my life. To finally and completely say good-bye. Probably for the rest of my life I will yearn to tell you stories of my racing experiences with a glimmer of longing in my eyes. But the feeling will forever exist only as a personal memory that cannot possibly be shared and fully appreciated by those who didn't share in the experience. It will forever be a cold and lonesome memory like those of a war veteran's who's companions have long been dead. So this dagger of sorts needs to be tucked away... out of reach and sight.