'Hy, yo, Silver!' Look out for the two-wheelers

Our governor, Mitch Daniels, is a Harley rider. He just bought a new Harley-Davidson Low Rider and is selling his 1999 Harley.
So, the governor was very cooperative when ABATE of Indiana (American Bikers Aimed Toward Education) approached him about stressing safety for motorcyclists.
This is Motorcycle Safety Awareness Month in Indiana.
ABATE claims two-thirds of motorcycle crashes with other vehicles occurred because the driver of the other vehicle was violating the motorcyclist’s right-of-way.
On the other hand, ABATE also says 92 percent of riders involved in accidents are self-taught in spite of the readily available motorcycle rider courses in the state.
My friends know where this is all leading.
Before I knew Gov. Daniels was a motorcyclist, my wife and I purchased a motor scooter. Actually, she wants nothing to do with it, but I love it.
I braced myself for the barbs about it being little. It has a 49cc engine that burns gas and oil mixed together. It has 4.9 horsepower, less than my push mower and less than half the power of my riding mower.
“How will I get it home?” I asked the salesman.
“Ride it!,” he said. “It’s only about 15 miles from Terre Haute to Brazil.”
“Are you nuts?” I thought.
Friends have kidded me a little. But I was prepared.
If asked, “Why did you get that?” I was going to say, “Well, there is this motorcycle gang I want to join...”
But my scooter is “cute,” not threatening like the big boys that drown out “Family Feud” and “Millionaire” when they ride past our house every afternoon.
But our scooter has its advantages.
Old Blue sports room for a second rider. There is even a locked trunk, underneath the seat, that is large enough to hold a couple gallons of milk.
It is zippy with an automatic transmission and is just a hoot to ride. Top speed is about 40, so you won’t see it on the Interstate. But it will go as fast as it needs to around town and on most country roads.
On the down side, in Indiana, motor scooters or motorcycles over 2 HP have to be plated and the driver has to have a motorcycle endorsement on his driver’s license.
I passed the written test, which means I know as much as the average 15-year-old.
Instead of teasing me, most people are interested in our scooter.
I gassed it up Saturday morning.
A man approached me from another vehicle.
“Excuse me, but how many miles per gallon do you get?”
“Oh, around 70,” I said, nonchalantly, but beaming inside, thinking about all the money I was saving. A fill-up from “E” cost me $2.39.
“Does it go fast enough to drive on the highway?”
“Oh, no,” I told him. “Thirty-five is about its top speed. But, it’s fast enough to drive around town.”
“Yeah, It’s really cute,” he said.
I have wanted a scooter since I saw a Cushman at our neighbor’s house when I was about 8 years old. I don’t really care for motorcycles, but scooters just fascinate me.
I find myself not only taking the long way home, but actually eager to drive to work, even on cold mornings.
Motor scooters are catching on. Check out the Yahoo Groups on the Internet and you will find several groups devoted to the little guys of the two-wheeled world. Clubs of motor scooterists have formed in Texas and on both coasts. They go riding together in the country on Sunday afternoons and swap information about maintaining their little mechanical buddies.
You may laugh, but when I put on my helmet and go riding, I am one of the California Highway Patrol CHiPs (in my own mind).
The other day, I was zooming down Murphy Ave. and found myself saying, “Hi, yo, Silver!”
No, wait. Wrong color.