Winter storage and reawakening

One unfortunate scootering disadvantage we have up here in New England (or "the Union" as some others refer) is that we have bitter winters. Bitter may actually not be the correct description. Perhaps miserable-cold-dark-damp-gloomy-oppressing-rain-sleet-snow-snow-snow-more-snow-freeze-your-butt-off-never-ending-tormenting winters is a better term. As a consequence you will not find many scooterists on the road during the winter months. Although there will be a few crazy fanatics that wholeheartedly embrace the Unite States Postal Service "neither rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of night" oath and dare to venture out all year around. I am not one of those. I don't enjoy navigating through black ice and snow, enduring bone-chilling temperatures, and freezing winds that burn any exposed skin (so wear thick gloves, goggles, masks, baby seal blubber suits, etc).

My scooter goes through winter hibernation inside a warm and sheltered garage, courtesy of my friends' apartment and at a cost of a case of beer. Sure I get sad and often miss my scooter, especially during the long chilly walks to the T station, but I endure through the winter knowing that my trusty scooter (or Scoot Scoot as I fondly call it) is in a safe place, and will be ready and energized for an early spring riding season chock-full of sunny days and pleasant rainbows.

For those considering to get a scooter and planning on not using it for a long period of time, it is important to know how to properly prepare and store a scooter. I was unlucky enough to not have been taught this critical information, and thus after a long first winter of storage, my scooter did not work after several disheartening days of dismantling, tweaking, replacing, and swearing at random parts until I fixed what had been undone. The wasted time was mostly due to because I had no idea why it wouldn't start. Often I just stared at the scooter, ignorantly hoping to identify an obvious disconnected cable or newly formed gaping hole that could be easily repaired with superglue and duct tape which would fix the problem, and also a lot of unscrewing and re-screwing random parts (don't ask me why, it's just a guy thing). Anyway, the most important lesson in storing a scooter is to remove the battery. Fact: a scooter battery (think car battery, but much much smaller) will discharge continuously and die within a few weeks of non-use. If you do not remove the battery before winter storage, you will of course, be angered in the spring when you have to buy a brand new scooter battery ($40 or more depending on brand & quality). Garaged scooters can just be turned on and used for a couple minutes each week to keep the battery charged. However, if you are lazy and/or storing a scooter in a place that does not allow a scooter to start (e.g. in the dining room of your second story apartment), the battery must be removed and hooked up to a battery charger every few weeks. You should also clean the scooter thoroughly before storing, to prevent rusting of critical components.

Also when reawakening the beast, gas is certainly a critical factor. The few liters of gasoline in a scooter quickly evaporates over the winter as I learned this after my second winter of storage. Megs had faithfully dropped me off at the friends' house, trustingly hoped that I knew what I was doing, and drove off to run errands. After a couple failed attempts to restart the scooter, and having watchful friends laugh at my situation, I walked the scooter to a nearby gas station a couple blocks away. With determination and patience I was finally able, in that gas station late one chilly spring night, to start the scooter with a tank of fresh gas, a fully charged battery, and faced a brand new scootering season full of adventure and hope.

[Reawakening ceremony tools: gas can, battery charger]

Scooter pic: the po po

Here's a sweet picture my girlfriend snagged of a cool police scooter outside Yankee Stadium a couple weeks ago.

I really have no idea what kind it is, but I would guess some modified version of an old Honda Elite. I'm also doubtful they were able to store a shotgun and tactical gear under the seat.

Side note: upon further inspection of this picture, she was also able to capture the dude to the left in the white sweat band and sporting a "got rings?" t-shirt. My question is, who is he, and how can I be friends with him?

Parking 101

One of the great benefits of owning a scooter is that you can park it where ever you want. Similar to bicycles, all you need to do is find a suitable space, park it, and for extra precaution find something to chain it up to. Some of you may ask, why put a lock on a scooter? Well the average 50cc scooter weights approximately 200 lbs, so crafty criminals with pickup trucks can with relative ease steal scooters not anchored to heavier objects (those jerks). I personally use a heavy duty kryptonite chain lock. I usually park between cars or next to parking meters. In addition stop signs and parking signs are sturdy and good place to anchor your scooter. Fire hydrants and trees are less ideal as they are generally too wide or short to be of use (unless you have a 10 foot chain). For reference here a few pictures of things you can chain your scooter up to:

Also try not to piss off any authoritative figures while parking your scooter, such locking your scooter next to a do-not-enter sign in front of a government mental instution with a state trooper on guard. Luckily I didn't get a ticket, but definitely got a good scolding.

Sorry folks about the lack of recent updates, I've been incapacitated for a few weeks by a mutant Ebola/SARS supervirus (or a bad cold/flu).

Scooter Adventure: the Egging

Mischief night, Halloween 2005.

I felt two sudden hard punches on my back. I heard a few more cracks as additional shots missed and fell to the pavement around me. Surprised and in pain, I struggled to keep my scooter upright. It was dark and I was already having enough trouble avoiding the big potholes and dangerous corners in Dorchester. I looked down and felt warm liquid dripping around my waist and legs. Was I bleeding? Was I about to die? I could hear the tires screeching from the low rider car that had been tailing me. I looked in my side mirrors and could see the car had made a quick right turn down a dark side alley. My aggressors had escaped.

I doubt there are many readers here that have been attacked by weaponized poultry embryos. I would even go so far as to say there are even fewer that understand what it feels like to be egged while driving a scooter at 30mph. It hurts like hell. I ended up with a few bruises on my back, a scooter covered in egg yolk (which does not clean up easily), and a very bruised ego. On the positive side, I am gracious the youth of Dorchester on mischief night chose to use grade A large white eggs rather than actual bullets. (For those that are not from the Boston area, Dorchester is comparable to South Philly. Or West Philly. Or all that area past Route 1 in North Philly. Or Trenton). In retrospect, it probably was not the greatest idea to drive through a dangerous part of town late a night on Halloween eve on a bright yellow scooter. But I had a big exam to study for and had spent most of the day in the library. I never got a good look at the teenagers in the car. They had pulled up along side me a few blocks before the incident and stared at me. I had figured they were only checking out my scooter as that happens from time to time, but did not realize there were actually acquiring a target for their mischievous deeds.

In summary:

• Projectile eggs hurt like hell
• Do not drive a scooter in Dorchester
• Wet paper towels will not clean up embedded eggs chunks from a scooter
  
• Use "Kaboom" cleaner. Or anything sold by Billy Mays
  
• Do not go to Dorchester

Site of the Egging Incident.

Weaponized Poultry Embryo

Addendum: In response to Meg's comment, I was selected for jury duty in 2006. While filling out the paperwork at the courthouse, in the section that asked, "Have you ever been a victim of crime?" I wrote in yes and described my scooter egging incident. A few hours later, two lawyers and the judge were filtering through the potential jurors and called me up to the bench. They asked me if I would remain impartial to the criminal case, as I listed having been a victim of crime since I had been egged while driving a scooter. To say the least, it's pretty embarrassing having a judge and two lawyers ask you that question in a court of law. I sheepishly said no, and was picked for jury duty that lasted three days.

Scootering and work

To quote one of my favorite movies (Old School), Luke Wilson's character tells a co-worker of his, "We work together, Walsh. And I don't want to mix work with whatever it is I do at home." Granted I am not starting a non-collegiate fraternity with middle-aged men, but nevertheless it retains some general pertinence as many of us have a "professional personality" that we wear to work and that is not always reflective of our true selves. (Unless of course, you always laugh at your boss's jokes and are truly overjoyed from seeing your company quarterly compliance reports perform above the mean. However, recently a few of my co-workers have discovered my blog. And to keep them happy I have agreed to post a picture of them with a scooter.


There Marc & Nikki, I hope you're happy. Stop harassing me.

But also, if you have a cool/funny picture of yourself with a scooter, feel free to email me and I will post it on my blog for all to see and admire. (All = girlfriend, roommate, and people who have accidentally found this site by clicking the random site button on blogspot.)

Scooter Etiquette

While on my ride and listening to Kenny Loggin's "Highway to the Dangerzone," I sometimes find other scooterists making a point to maneuver through traffic to catch up with me. Sometimes they will proceed to ride up alongside my scooter and perhaps even to be so bold as to strike up a brief conversation during stops at traffic lights. This folks is a big no no. It's like those people in public bathrooms who start talking to you in the next stall over. Last thing you want to do while taking care of business (or as my roommate calls it, "taking the browns to the superbowl") is starting a conversation with a complete stranger. Same rules apply while scootering.

Don't get me wrong, if you happen to be driving behind a scooter it's okay to pull up and give a brief nod before peeling away. That's common courteously. It's like saying, "hello, we're both better than pedestrians and cooler than gas guzzling motorists," but that's it folks. No further acknowledgment is required. As you may now know from my previous post (see "Types of Scootering Personalities") a variety of people ride scooters, and they do not all necessarily share common mindsets (other than loving scooters).

I also have a jeep. There's an unofficial "wrangler wave" that is given to fellow wrangler drivers as you pass by other jeeps on the road. Some overzealous enthusiasts give the big high five wave as they pass by. I tend to utilize the patented two finger peace sign with the left hand while gripping the steering wheel at the 12 o'clock position (the "bunny ear maneuver"). This way it's noticeable to the keen observing fellow wrangler driver and pays respect, but not as obvious to the other motorists or people in your car (so they don't you're super lame). Crap, I've sidetracked so much I've forgotten what I was ranting about. Oh well, here's a cool picture of my scooter.

Scooter Adventure: the Ticket

A typical Monday morning. I was running late to work, on my scooter driving through Central Square on Mass Ave. Suddenly, a Cambridge police officer on his motorcycle pulls up next to me with his lights on and says, "pull over by the sidewalk up there and turn off your scooter son." The next 15 minutes provided to be one of the most confounding moments of my life so far. His next words were, "did you know your registration tags are expired?" Of course I knew. My tags were expired in 2006 (yeah yeah, go ahead and ridicule me, but if you think I like to throw away $40 to the city of Boston for a sticker that registers my scooter as a "motorized bicycle" you might as well stick a feather in your head and call it a macaroni). Anyway, the cop proceeded to lecture me on not having an updated sticker, and then issued me a ticket. A ticket!! Do they really have the free time to pull over scooters for expired registration tags and fine them $25?!?!

But here's the real kicker folks. Hang onto your hats and buckle in your seat belts. His next sentence was, "I'm going to have to tow your scooter." Really? Really really?!? I was dumbfounded. In disbelief. Who tows a scooter? Who tows a 200 lb bicycle? Do jerks like that really exist in this world? Yes, apparently they do. So after a few more minutes of baffling discussion, I was directed to a bus stop across the street which would take me to work that morning. As I sat on the bus, I looked out and saw the officer next to my scooter waiting for the tow truck. I could almost feel the tears trickling down my cheeks.

After pleading with my boss, I was able to take a half day and had the rest of the afternoon off to retrieve my scooter. I had to take the following steps: (1) Get home and retrieval my registration identification. (2) Get to the RMV. (3) Wait in line at the goddamn RMV for hours to get a registration sticker. (4) Get to the impound lot. (5) !!!!!

First of all, the Massachusetts RMV provides a nifty website that shows "real time" wait times for their various locations. Okay, after a bit of perusing I found the most convenient and shortest line existed at the Cambridgeside Galleria RMV office. After rushing home, I jumped into my car and jetted towards the Cambridgeside Galleria mall. Minutes later, I was in a short line at the RMV office. "Oh," said the young woman at the counter, "scooter registration? We don't do that here. You have to go to our Watertown location."

!@%$#^!!

After damning the RMV a few more times, I drove another 15 minutes to Watertown, otherwise known as "the armpit of west Boston". As this entry is getting long, I will spare you the excruciating details of waiting in various lines at the Watertown RMV, but suffice to say, there was a point where I had the wrong form, and was directed to another line to get the correct form (although they did let me cut in line). Nevertheless, 2 hours later, I had a brand spanking new shiny registration sticker, minus two Andrew Jacksons in my wallet.

Luckily I convinced my girlfriend to drive me to the impound lot after work, so at 5pm we took a drive to Phil's Towing Co, paid them their damn hundred dollars, and picked up my scooter, which had been sitting in their parking lot getting rained on all day.

Cambridge Police: 1
Scooter: 0