Well, it’s the end of an era. A very short-lived era, but an era none the less. My trusted steed, the Yamaha Vino has passed on to another owner.
It was a great idea. 75 mpg, and all Euro-styled out. When you ride one you can’t help but feel a little more sophisticated than your fellow travelers. It was a hell of a way to experience the city too… alleyways and parking spots that are inconceivable in a car look like Interstates on a scooter. Also there’s the smells. Sure you suck on a lot of diesel exhaust, but you can also smell the Mexican restaurants on South First long before you see them. You can feel the temperature drop as you scream down Lamar towards the river, and catch hints of the chaff of the roasting coffee at whole foods. You learn the microcosms of the metropolis like you learn the light switches in your home.
The problem, or the deal killer was the suburbs. The way to work and downtown is via Mopac, on which you’re really putting you life in the hands of others, or down a very indirect path of surface streets that add about 30 minutes to any trip.
The suburbs – they kill your manly moped and make you buy a lawnmower. There’s no justice there.
"Pure sex, baby"