Ditching The Car for a Vespa.

Found this awesome article written by Jim Brumm, a fellow blogger and Vespa rider in Northern California.

For years I watched them go by on the road. They would appear at an intersection or pass me going the other way, the riders looking somehow freer—cooler perhaps—than the drivers around them, like they were in traffic like the rest of us, but not of it. And every time I spotted one, I’d smile and think, I’ve really got to get one of those someday.

Vespas. Cool little scooters that seem to personify a different attitude, a different way to approach living in our congested cities. Films of Europe and Asia invariably show thousands of people zipping around town on scooters or bicycles. In the rest of the world they are a way of life. Here, well, we like our cars. The bigger the better. We have five foot, two inch soccer moms picking up their kids in urban assault vehicles that get eight miles to the gallon and that could carry ten Vespas in the back. We give our large cars large names. We have the Armada, the Expedition; sometimes they are so large we name them after mountains, as in the Denali. We take three thousand pounds of steel with us to pick up a carton of milk.

Even though gas prices continue to rise, even though congestion on our streets worsens with each passing year, we cling to our cars and pay the price for the gas no matter how much it is. Sure, we complain, but we keep doing it. I wanted to break that pattern in my life. For years, Roy and Johnna, owners of Sonoma County’s local Vespa dealer, Revolution Moto, in Downtown Santa Rosa, had been watching me come in to their store to sit on the scooters and ask questions. I would hang around until I couldn’t justify being there any longer, then leave with a sigh and climb back into my car. Roy and Johnna would just smile. They knew that look in my eye; they knew I’d be back. I was hooked.

I had this vision in my head. Me, astride a new Vespa, book bag slung over my shoulder, on my way to an appointment or a coffee shop.

Finally, I made the leap. Wanting to get out from under a ridiculous car payment and the attendant gas prices, I waited until the end of the rainy season, crossed my fingers, sold my car and bought my first Vespa. A LX150. Deep blue with a tan seat.

Vespas come in different sizes. You can get a 50cc, which is great, but it only goes around thirty-five to forty miles per hour, plenty, unless you’re going on highways. They go as large as 250cc, which will attain speeds of eighty five mph, which is faster than I wanted to go on a scooter.

But for me, the 150cc was perfect. It will go sixty-five to seventy mph, depending on the head wind, and it gets seventy five miles to the gallon. That’s right, seventy five.

Sonoma County lends itself perfectly to scooters. With hundreds of miles of beautiful, country roads, you can go pretty much anywhere without going on the freeway, and I was anxious to see those roads from my new vantage point.

I went to the DMV and took the written motorcycle test to get my permit, and then I spent the first couple of days after I got my new Vespa just cruising around, getting the feel of it. And it was just what I’d imagined. There is a sense of freedom that comes when riding a two-wheeled vehicle that you can’t capture from the inside of a car. The wind, the sunshine on your arms, the feel of the road under the wheels, it creates an almost intimate connection with the road and the outdoors.

And here’s the thing. When you’re riding a Vespa scooter, people smile at you. Everywhere I go, strangers grin, give me a thumbs-up sign and stare at my scooter with . . . is it envy . . . longing? All I know is that it’s the same look that I wore when I would spot a Vespa on the road and think, I’ve really got to get one of those. Every time I stop anywhere someone comes up to me and slowly walks around my Vespa, and ask lots of questions about it. How much was it? What kind of mileage does it get? How fast will it go? Then they smile and tell me that they’ve thought about getting one themselves.

While you need a motorcycle license to ride a Vespa, we scooter people know it’s not a motorcycle. The word motorcycle conjures images of either big noisy Harley’s or those little crotch-rockets. And most motorcycle enthusiasts of that ilk wouldn’t be caught dead on a scooter.

That’s because riding a Vespa isn’t about being scary or tough or fastest. It’s about being a part of the solution. It’s about a way of life that much of the world embraces, but which has been slow to take hold here in the United States. A recent Department of Energy survey found that if Americans were to utilize energy efficient and eco-friendly scooters, they could, in aggregate, reduce nation fuel consumption by fourteen-million gallons of gasoline per day, and reduce carbon dioxide emissions by three hundred twenty four million pounds per day. I tried to multiply that to get the numbers for an entire year, but my calculator wouldn’t go that high.

But saving the world aside, let’s talk about saving money. First, the monthly payment on a fully financed Vespa runs around $50-$60 per month. I bought full coverage from Geico insurance for just $250 per year, including roadside assistance. Parking is free in most parking garages and parking lots.

But the best part, and I never tire of this, is going to the gas station. With a two and a half gallon tank, nothing makes my day more than walking up to the counter and handing them just a few bucks for a fill-up. I go back to pump the gas and watch the guy next to me filling his SUV. I pump my two gallons in moments. While he stands there numbly, watching as the gauge on his pump passes sixty or seventy dollars, I’m climbing back on my Vespa, and heading back out to enjoy the day. And as I pull out of the gas station I can feel his eyes on me; I can almost hear him thinking, I’ve really got to get one of those.