My Life on Two Wheels

I had a scooter when I lived in Key West many years ago. It was small and under-powered but being on an island, it made sense to ride a scooter everyday. I was in accident with that scooter too, when my friend ran into me. It was very minor and we were both fine but that demonstrated the vulnerability of being on a scooter - not unlike a bicycle, which was a staple of my childhood and probably the start of my love for being on two wheels.






I walked in to the former Vespa Store in October of 2006 and this blue Vespa immediately caught my eye. I hadn't been on a bike in years and I wasn't planning to buy one. The nice English couple that owned the joint changed that with: "First year: no payments, no interest." I don't remember what the interest rate was after the 1st year but I'm sure it was ridiculous. (I ended up paying it off before the year was up.)  I switched out the dark blue seats for light tan and put a top box on the back. $4,500 in fine Italian-made steel and plastic drove, albeit awkwardly, home the next night.

The first couple of weeks were intense. Learning to be in such close proximity to traffic takes time. I learned to give myself the same space as I would a car and expect other cars to do the same. I also learned to pay close attention to drivers ahead of me. With a quick glance to their side mirror, I can tell a driver is about to switch lanes, allowing me enough time to position myself out of harm's way. There were close calls, of course: Traffic stops short. People run red lights. Bugs that I've swallowed or have hit me in the face. I wore an open face helmet and remember once getting hit in the face with a rock. (I was behind a tractor-trailor and it was spit out by the rear tire.) Some kids very lightly rear-ended Christine and I one night on Siesta Key.

The guys at the motorcycle class reiterated what every biker told me. "You're gonna get hit. It's only a matter of time, it's probably not going to be your fault and you definitely won't see it coming."  Paying attention is the key to survival, they said. The reality is, people are paying less attention behind the wheel than ever. Look at other cars at an intersection and see how many people are using cell phones. It's pretty scary.

Truth is, I love riding. Every morning on the way to work, I would smile at the experience. The open air coursing around me. 300-sunny days a year in Florida and 70-miles-to-the-gallon meant a once a week fill-up for $4. Parking is a dream and I was hardly more than 10-minutes away from anything. I was even able to carry a sizable load of groceries home on it. Sure, riding sucked during inclement weather but that was part of it too. I got a little wet when it rained and chilly when it was cold but it was never that bad. As I passed cars on rainy nights, they would glance over at me in my yellow rain suit and I'd nod back with authority, "Nice windshield, wimps."

On March 11th, I was almost home after work. Cars were blocking the left lane and so I stopped and waited to make my left turn. I was completely unaware of the imminent danger even when I heard the tires screech behind me ... (it's a haunting sound). I remember the big push from the impact and the forward momentum and being worried about hitting a car or being hit by another car. When I stopped, I was face down, (I think), and stood up in utter frustration and agony. I couldn't talk but my voice came out anyway. I staggered off the road to the grass and laid down wreathing in shock. A mass of unfamiliar faces hovered over me telling me to be still ... A former nurse spoke to me and focused my attention ... and the world suddenly came rushing back in to my eyes and ears. I took off the helmet which was completely destroyed. It saved my life. I went to look at the Vespa. The bike was 30-ft away and a twisted mess. Pieces of it were strewn all over the road. The ambulance and police finally came and the witnesses all helped to gather things from the road: a smashed rearview mirror, a screwdriver, my rain suit, etc. The guy that hit me, John, apologized profusely. He called later that night and I could hear it in his voice. I told him it would be OK.

Things that surprise me, aside from my miraculous survival:
- Not a single broken bone. Even the doctor was impressed.
- My helmet, (and sunglasses), stayed on my head.
- Both my cellphone and wallet stayed in their respective pockets and the phone was not damaged.
- One of the police officers dragged the scooter across the street to our house. (I don't think he was supposed to but there was nobody else to help.)

I am on the mend and the scooter is gone. The insurance company settled the property damage and a tow truck hauled it away. It was pathetic looking, sitting in the driveway, all mangled and broken. I looked at new Vespas online. (They're fuel injected now!)

But ultimately, I decided that it's a bit inconvenient - especially for carrying passengers or anything larger than a grocery bag. I may have a scooter again sometime but it'll be nice to be on four-wheels and out of the weather. Plus, I don't want to go through this shit again. Please do not use cellphones while driving.  Special thanks to friends and family who helped me through this bump in the road. I am a very lucky man in so many ways.