6 things I learned from buying and riding a scooter

1. No Matter How Long I've Been Riding a Bike or How Comfortable I Feel on Two Wheels, I Felt Like I Was Going to Constantly Fall Over

I've been riding bikes since I was a wee little lass, and I've really grown to love them. From going down the street and standing on the crossbar to splashing on a fancy bike and racing TTC buses, bicycles became a natural extension of my body. That was, however, until I was on a bike with a gas-powered motor. I rented a moped in Hawaii so it wasn't the first time I was on one, but the one I bought had three times the displacement and could top out at 109kmh (still haven't touched that yet, though). The day I rode it home was pretty windy in the city, and for the entire stretch of Eglinton I had to take to get home, I thought the wind and high speeds were going to knock me over. For the most part, I don't feel that anymore, but opening up the throttle on Highway 7 when cars are touching 90 still remains a tiny bit of a nerve-wracking experience.

2. There's a Club, and the Only Membership Requirement is Buying a Bike

I rode to Whitby on the weekend, and noticed something out of the ordinary. A motorcyclist going the other way took his hand off the clutch, and extended two fingers. It seem like a sign of acknowledgement to me, so I nodded my head at him. And when it happened a second time a short while later, I knew I wasn't mistaken: I was being given "The Wave". This dates back decades and decades and is a sign among riders that we're all part of the same family, and I'm part of it (!!!). On the way home, I took initiative and did the wave at other rides—and each and every one of them responded. It was the coolest thing.

3. Gas Prices are No Longer Something to Fret Over

Filling up a car costs around $50 or $60, depending on the size of the engine, so finding the cheapest gas station matters a lot. But when your tank is only about 5L, you stop wherever you want. I was recommended to fill up with premium gas (which I'm not entirely convinced of, but whatever), and the most I've had to pay for an almost-full fill-up is $4.63...and that was with premium gas priced at $1.47/L.

4. People Will be Drawn to You Like Moths to a Flame

There's something so innately bad ass about owning a fast vehicle on two wheels, and people who don't have one will try to live vicariously through you. Case in point: I popped by Walmart to pick up a few things and put my helmet down on the counter to pay. Out of nowhere, an old man walked up, started petting my helmet, and told me it was "too big, too big". Smh. Or another time when I was having coffee and had to put the cover on my bike to protect it from the rain. I returned to it to find someone had taken the cover entirely off, and lain it across the floorboard (an aborted theft attempt?). I had an inkling people would be interested in my ride, but I had no idea they'd be so brazen about it.

5. All I Can Think about When Riding is Crashing and Dying

You don't have to tell me motorcycles are dangerous; I get it. I know perfectly well that the lack of a cage means risks are amplified at high speeds, and the only barrier between skin and road are the clothes I'm wearing. I also know that if I crash out at high speeds, I get one shot at walking away from it without being laid up in a full-body cast, and that's constantly on my mind. Every time I open up the throttle or see a pothole on the road, I'm anticipating a crash and going over how bad it can be. And when I don't crash, I breathe a little sigh of relief, and get ready for the next bump in the road.

6. It's a Lot Colder than it Seems

Mona Lisa. I can get dressed up in a couple of t-shirts and hoodies, leather boots, and fuzzy winter gloves, and the cold still manages to find a way in (such as just surrounding my two braking fingers on my left hand). Even my helmet isn't impermeable, no matter how much of a fortress it looks like. There are vents all over, and I'd have to cock it to the left to avoid the wind rushing in, which would affect how I see the road.

But motorcycles are so, SO cool. Every time I'm at a red light, I surreptitiously glance at the other drivers, and then VROOOOM! A hard tug on the throttle and I'm two blocks ahead before they've even finished getting to the other side of the street. Also, cars (when they see me) are afraid of hitting me, so I tend to get lots of space around me. Even public transit buses get in on the fun of motorcycles, like the Viva driver who was pantomiming "look Ma, no hands!" to me at a red light.