the duf knows no bounds

Remember the scooter that Kim bought me for Christmas?  Well she finally came home today.  Yep, I wasn’t in a real hurry.  The weather has been pretty nasty for scootering (scooting?) here in central PA, so the drive to claim my gift was a little lacking.  But the good folks at Kissell Motorsports walked me through the intricacies of my “bike” and got me out the door.

If you live in the 16801 area and like motorcycles, you ought to check out Craig’s shop.  I’ve never owned a motorcycle, but being in the place was intoxicating.  I wanted to buy some cool biker gear and hit the open road…

Now some of you serious bikers may be scoffing at me and my scooter.  I don’t really care.  My truck is averaging somewhere around 13 miles per gallon.  This new scooter rides along at 90 mpg, and when the weather breaks 50 degrees, will get me from A to B in sweet scooter style.

I have been warned by several people that this new found joy will only last one riding season.  These ne’er-do-wells are telling me that scooters are like the gateway drug to true motorcycle ownership, and that I’ll find myself longing/lusting after a real bike in no time.  We shall see.

One of the things that I’m looking forward to (other than the cha-ching in my pocket from the gasoline savings) is the biker wave.  You know, the simple shake of two fingers on the left hand, held down low as you pass another biker bro.  I have 2 concerns: 1) the biker bro might refuse to return my salute since I’m astride a scooter, even though it’s a Genuine Roughhouse.  2) I’m missing part of my left middle finger.  Do you think that will throw off other riders, causing them to doubt my sincerity and good will?  Apparently I’m not the only one asking these questions.  Adam Cleaveland is a scooter-riding blogger who experienced the wonder of the wave firsthand.

One of the things that I was fearing has already been addressed:  the first scratch.  I like to take care of my stuff, and wondered how I would react to the first ding.  Which one of the kids would be the first to knock the scooter down?  Or maybe it would be Kim, or even the dog.  Turns out I found a pretty practical solution to the mystery.  When I loaded it off the truck and started to ride up the street to the garage, I turned too sharply, and down we went.  Done.  I stared at the scooter (she needs a name) for a minute asking, “Did that just happen?”  How big of a goof am I?  5 minutes of bike ownership and I’ve already done the duf.  Oh well, I don’t have to worry about the first ding anymore.  Now I need some touch up paint.

And what about a name?  It’s a Genuine Roughhouse Scooter, so I’m thinking about Genny or Jenny.  Of course, I’m calling the scooter a girl, but I’m not certain that she’s a she.  What if she’s really a he?  It’s (He?) a black scooter, so what about Black Jack?  I’m open to suggestions.  Some of you creative people chime in, and maybe I’ll let you all vote on a name.