TWO WHEEL ADDICTION

A couple days ago, while riding Scoot-Scoot home, it stalled on me four times. I was praying, while sitting on the side of the road in the rain, "Lord, just help me get home." I have come to the conclusion that the fuel line might be clogged, or the carburetor may need cleaning. This is something I can learn to do. The oil leak may be a little more difficult to fix, but I'm sure I can fix that too.

I was wanting to get another bike at some point, but it was suddenly moved to the top of my "things I want to buy" list, when Scoot-Scoot got sick. The first place I looked, was the store where I found my other bike. Unfortunately, there were no used bikes, and a new Kona, would put me back almost $400. So, this is my new set of wheels. I'm sure it will be fine for a few years, or until I'm feeling rich and get a Kona.

Orange is not my favorite color, but Chuck said, "I like the orange one. You would be seen." This is true, and it would also be quick to spot at the bike rack full of black bikes. I hate to admit that there were times when it took me a little bit to figure out which black bike was mine, in a sea of black bikes.

My new bike is not the only new addition, I have a new grandchild, Presley Jameson Vile Junod, 6 lbs. 4 oz. of precious. She is beautiful, just like her mother.

Dad and Rocket watching Presley. Rocket just starred at her, not sure what to think yet.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was wandering the hallway, when a nurse asked if she could help. I told her my daughter just had her baby. She flipped through the papers she was holding, and asked if her name was Amy. Okay, it's a real small hospital, and I didn't see any other patients on that floor, so Amy's baby was the only excitement this morning. I was told, "Bill and Presley are in there", pointing for me to go into this room where Presley was laying under the heater. A little later, Bill's mother and Rocket entered also. We could go anywhere, that was cool. But I digress.... :-)

The other day, as I was riding Scoot-Scoot, it dawned on me... a moped is the gateway drug to motorcycles. I have caught myself pretending I am on a motorcycle as I lean into a curve. I notice every motorcycle that crosses my path, looking to see what kind it is. I have entertained the thought of owning a motorcycle. Will I give into this weakness? We'll see.

Scoot-Scoot at the Pump

A few days ago, I pulled into the gas station on Scoot-Scoot. The needle on the gauge was at about 1/4 tank, so I thought it best I go ahead and fill up. Not knowing exactly how big the tank is, I fill slowly. Thinking I had put quite a bit in, I looked at the pump, it said .28 gallons. Finally, it was full, and I had only pumped .75 gallons for $3.10. It costs quite a bit less to fill Scoot-Scoot than it did my Jeep Charokee, and lasts about as many days. I'm liking this.

When I first got Scoot-Scoot, I had never ridden a moped. She has a few quirks, but I learned them quickly and she is fun to ride. The most trouble I had, was getting her on the center stand. I knew there had to be trick to it, so like everything else, I asked Google. I found a couple of videos on YouTube and read a little on a couple of forums. I was not the only one that had this issue. After practicing a few times armed with this new knowledge, I can get her parked on the first try.

I rarely see anyone here in Key West wearing a helmet, whether they are straddling a scooter or a Harley. I, on the other hand, wear my new purchase; a white open faced helmet. No, it's not as comfortable as it would be without one, but if someone runs over me, hopefully, my head won't get crushed. And, I won't have to listen to my friend and family lecture me about the need to wear one.

There are literally thousands of mopeds in Key West. I didn't pay much attention to them before, but now I find myself eyeing the shiny new ones. I'm like that person going to the car dealership and imagining himself behind the wheel of the Mercedes or Porsche. I can dream, can't I?

SCOOT-SCOOT

Is it sad that I could, without even thinking, name, in descending order, my three most valuable possessions? One night last week, my third most prized possession was stolen while I worked. I clocked out, left the store at midnight, took the short stroll less than half a block to the bike rack where I always parked my bike. When I got to the rack, there were three bikes there, and none of them were mine. I stood there like a cow looking at a new gate. The spot I left my bike 7 hours earlier, was empty. My heart sank, that bike was my only mode of transportation, my freedom... now what? Oh, how do I get home tonight? It's late, I can't bother anyone this late. I walked, thinking, "I will just walk home. How long will it take me? But, there are some dark place on the trail home, I can't walk, it wouldn't be safe. Everyone would yell at me when they found out." By this time I had walked eight blocks. With a big sigh and tears of defeat welling up, I pulled out my phone and called a cab. It cost me $15 for a 15 minute ride home. That is a rip off, but I felt I had no other choice, I paid it.

My bike was not of great monetary value, but it was MINE. It was my sorce of freedom, I didn't have to rely on anyone to drive me around. That was taken away from me, and this made me very sad. I have fond memories of that bike.

Like nearly everything that goes on in my life, my Facebook friends read about the theft, so my daughter contacted me. When I was at their home a few days earlier, they showed me the moped they bought from a friend. They didn't tell me they planned to fix it up and give it to me. Amy and Bill thought they better tell me of their intensions, in case I get a wild hair and go out and buy me a moped, because I have been wanting one.

My bike did not have a name, but this moped does; Scoot-Scoot. Amy sanded and painted it, a couple broken parts will be replaced, and she runs good. I just needed to learn how to ride her.

I went to Amy's house, and between Amy, Google and I, we figured out how to start the thing. I took it around the block to get used to it, and it is fun! Chuck has already lectured me on the proper riding attire (most importantly....helmet), so my mother and brother won't have to.

A moped does not have to be insured, and you do not need a motorcycle license. They get good gas mileage, and you don't have to pay for parking, there is usually designated parking space in front of every business, or within a short walk of where you want to be. No longer will I have to wipe the sweat off when I arrive at work... this is going to be great. God truly does watch out for me, and I have a wonderful daughter and son-in-law, and I love them very much. Thank you guys!

From now on, every bike I see with a collapsible basket mounted on the side, I will make sure it is not mine. If I ever see my bike again, which I probably won't, but if I do, I am going to beat the crap out of who claims it to be theirs.