Today I contacted a person on Craigslist about purchasing their moped from them with the intention of driving this moped halfway across the country back home. The moped in question is a Vespa Ciao. The owner was going to be at Samovar on Page and Laguna which was on the way back to where I’m staying so I figured I’d stop and see if it was the right vehicle to get me home.
It is not in fact impossible to get across country on an underpowered moped. For reference I will direct you to Brian of moped army who is as we speak wending his way across country on a Puch Newport II: moped army. Perhaps not the greatest of examples since he hasn’t actually successfully crossed the country yet but someone is making the attempt.
Arriving early I found the tea both overpriced and worth the price – for the price of $9 + tip I received a glass pot full of lukewarm green tea that was delicious and smooth. The waitress was wearing a t-shirt with the person I was meeting’s name on it (“TYNAN” – with the “A” having a star as the hole). For reference, visit tynan.net. She apparently is good friends with Tynan.
“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” she said. “He lives in an RV.”
“How does he store his mopeds?”
“His bikes? He just locks them up on the street.”
Tynan arrived and was every bit what his website makes him seem like, a very well adjusted person living in an RV and having apparently a wonderful time of it. The Ciao was small, and I on the Ciao was monkey on a tricycle big. Pointing the bike uphill I slowly eased into the throttle, expecting a sudden jolt of movement as the engine propelled me forward. At the point the handle stopped turning I was still not moving.
“You should start from level ground,” Tynan said. So I pushed the Ciao up the six feet to level ground and was in fact moving. As I drove across the flat intersection towards the westward hill a San Francisco police patrol car pulled up. I continued along and the effect was much the same as rolling a ball up a hill, even heading into it full throttle. The police car pulled aside me.
“Pedal!” one of the cops yelled. “Pedal!”
They drove off uphill laughing as I put my foot down and turned the bike around. And so, my 50cc dream of freedom has come to a slow, underpowered halt.
